Page 81 of Pansies

The sound ricocheted wildly, more than slightly suggestive and far too loud.

“And”—Fen added, thrusting himself clumsily against Alfie’s waiting hand—“at this point, I probably wouldn’t care.”

Alfie fumbled his way past denim and under boxers until he found skin. God. Somewhere Fen was warm. So fucking warm. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen.”

“Y-you’re jerking me off in a cave. Something bad is already happening.”

His hand stilled. “Good bad, right?”

“Yes. God yes.” Fen wriggled impatiently, his trapped wrists grinding the back of Alfie’s hand against the pillar. It hurt a bit, but that was okay. Better than okay. It was perfect. Rough and right and perfect, just like Fen. “Reallygood bad.” His hips twisted, shoving his cock against Alfie’s palm like he was trying to fuck it.

From there things got frantic. Hopeless. Wonderful. Alfie’s hand. Fen’s cock. Their mouths. A tangle of kisses and gasps and muffled moans, and the sound of skin moving against skin. Fen’s head thrown back against the pillar. A drop of sweat gliding down his throat, pristine in the half-light. And Alfie, desperate, a littlebit dizzy, a little bit shocked. Because he loved Fen like this, so hot and straining, and lost and found, andhis. He still smelled a little bit of flowers and tasted a little bit like salt. And the words scattering at their feet with the shells and sea-glass wereyes, andoh, andGod, andyes, andplease, and that last one was maybe Alfie not Fen, because he wanted it so badly, Fen’s pleasure, not taken but given, and nothing between them but this, and the things they chose to build together.

A shudder and a cry, and it was over, a flood of fresh warmth against Alfie’s palm and a white splash across the pebbles. And Fen, flushed and breathless and shaking. And beautiful. So ridiculously fucking beautiful. Alfie hastily let go of his hands. Fen winced a little as he lowered his arms, but before Alfie had time to feel bad, they were thrown around his neck, and he was being pulled close for another kiss. Tender this time. Endless. A world spun from a moment. Like one of those snow globes Billy used to collect. Blackpool. Edinburgh. Windermere. Alnwick. Though he couldn’t imagine there was much of a market for this: two men lost in a kiss.

At last, they parted, Fen pressing his cheek to Alfie’s for a moment. Then, “Oh God, I’m a mess.”

“I told you, I don’t think you are. We’re not doing anything bad here.”

Except now Fen was laughing. “No, I didn’t mean… I meant…literally. I’m covered in…well…”

“Oh right. Whoops.” A pause. “I think there’s a Kleenex in my jacket pocket.”

“You’re a classy man, Alfie Bell.”

They found, with a little difficulty, a scrunched-up, sorry-looking tissue. Fen cleaned himself up and zipped up his jeans. Alfie crouched down by one of the small pools and washed hishands. Then was suddenly awkward. Didn’t quite know where to look. He’d basically just attacked Fen in a cave. Unable to keep his hands off him. That was the sort of thing teenagers did. Not grown men who had access to cars and homes and beds.

Fen was waiting by the entrance, smoothing slightly shaking hands over his thighs. He had a dazed, just-shagged look, all ruffled hair and swollen lips, and Alfie felt right again. Filled with a kind of possessive warmth. Because he’d done that. To Fen. For him.Withhim.8 Like a story they were telling in touching.

“You okay?” he asked.

Fen glanced up, half smiling. “Very much so.”

His shoulder nudged Alfie’s upper arm, and they leaned against each other a little. The sky was whitish now to match the tops of the waves and backlit by the sun to a smooth gleam like somebody had been polishing it.

Alfie stared out into the distance, Fen warm at his side, and felt so strange that it took him a moment to realise he was happy.

Which made him remember he had a job and a life that was supposed to be happening somewhere else. And Fen didn’t belong here any more than Alfie did. His heart flinched with the anticipation of pain, and he ignored it. Ignored it.

“Tide’s coming in,” he said. Which wasn’t what he meant at all.

Fen nodded.

“Sure you’re okay?”

“Just a little tired.”

Alfie couldn’t help himself. “Did I wear you out?”

“Hah, no. I’m just not sleeping very well.”

There was a secret to sleeping, and it was working a fourteen-hour day. Alfie tended to fall into unconsciousness like he’dbeen hit with a hammer. But he suspected there were better strategies. “Want me to run you back?”

Tuck you in?Maybe not.

“Would you?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

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