Page 25 of Ascendent
Sergey raced for him, kissing his palm, his wrist, sliding his hand up to his own cheek. “Sashunya,” he whispered. “I want––”
Sasha grabbed Sergey’s jacket and yanked. Pulled the sleeves down to his elbows, and then attacked his shirt. Sergey ripped his bowtie free, helped work the shirt buttons loose, yanked his shirttails from his pants and flung his cummerbund to the side. His hands tugged at Sasha’s clothes, jerking him free of his tuxedo as Sasha dropped to his knees again.
“No.” Sergey guided Sasha back to his feet.
Sasha stared, his breath puffing before him. Frost crawled along his exposed back, dipped below his waistband, into the open fly of his trousers.
Sergey’s mouth moved. His lips formed words, but they had no air, no sound. Sasha frowned. “I want you. I want you to make love to me.” Sergey clasped both hands around Sasha’s face. “I want to feel you inside me.”
Supernova. A thousand suns, a billion fireworks, all exploding at once. Heat that seared his soul, that burned him to ash. If he looked at the wall, would his shadow be blasted into the paint? Sasha couldn’t think. Sergey wanted…
After the burn came the freeze. Space was cold. Without a sun, after the supernova, the blackness of space could suck every last micron of heat from the universe, could turn every moment of warmth into crushing loss, the absence of heat and light. His breath sped up. What Sergey wanted––
He had to move fast, before the ice returned. Sasha pushed Sergey back roughly, got him down onto the bed and flipped him over onto his belly. Sergey grunted, tried to push up. He twisted, looking over his shoulder. “Sasha––”
Sasha grabbed his pants and pulled hard. Got them over the tight, taut curve of Sergey’s skinny ass.
“Sasha, what—”
He was so cold, so cold. But Sergey was warm. He’d warm him back up. He’d bring him back to life. If he could just get to Sergey, he could feel that warmth. Sasha clambered up and laid over Sergey’s body. Sergey jerked, grunted. One hand reached back for Sasha, grabbed his hip, the other his hair. “Should we—”
Sasha buried his face in Sergey’s neck. He stroked himself, trying to keep his erection, trying to stay hard. He was flagging, waning, losing everything, dammit! Sergey wanted this, he’d asked for it, he wanted Sasha. Fuck, he had to give this to him.
Ice slithered down his arms, built up from his legs, down through his chest. Circled his heart. Dropped lower, into his belly. Lower.
Sasha pulled back, slinking to the edge of the bed. He collapsed, pitching forward. Ice was choking him,govno, he couldn’t breathe.
“Sasha?”
Shatter. Fragmentation.
He gulped down a breath, felt hot tears work through the frost of his eyelashes. No, he wouldn’t break down in front of Sergey again. But did it matter if he did? He was a failure, as a man, as a lover. He couldn’t give Sergey what he wanted. He hid his face, buried his shame. Dragged a pillow into his lap.
His gaze darted sideways. Sergey had flipped over and was pulling his trousers up.
He wouldn’t look at Sasha. He stared straight up, a deep frown creasing his face.
This is where it ends. I can’t give him what he wants.I’m worthless.He pressed down on the pillow in his lap. His cock was limp, not a single hope of hardness.What he wants, it’s impossible.
I would destroy him.
What if his freeze infected Sergey? What if he doused whatever heat, whatever nuclear core lived inside Sergey? What if he destroyed everything that made Sergey the perfect man he was?
Run.
Sergey’s voice battered through the cloud, the haze, the snow fog of his mind. He was in a blizzard, his thoughts smearing, ripped apart by his fears. He tried to focus on the sound of Sergey’s voice. “…you simply aren’t attracted to me, is that it? Certain things are okay for you, but the thought of making love to me… You don’t want that? Or me?”
“Sergey––”
“I’m too old. I know that. I’m not like you. I’m––” Sergey ran a hand down his naked chest. His ribs made a cavern over his sunken belly. Sasha could count his ribs as they arched up his chest. Spry hairs poked valiantly from his pale skin, between his tight pecs.
“You’re perfect,” Sasha choked out.
“Don’t lie,” Sergey snapped. “I couldn’t inspire you, could I?”
Govno. “That had nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing to do with me? You were trying to fuck me, weren’t you? And I couldn’t get you hard!”
