Re: Woodscraft (3/?)imaginary_goluxApril 28 2011, 21:03:24 UTC
Three days later he’s back in that clearing again, with a little bitty jar in one pocket (he can’t even think about it without blushing, which was…awkward when the man at the gate asked him how long he’d be gone), hoping against hope that the kiss wasn’t really more in the way of “you’ll never see me again.” It wasn’t. The stranger is there, as soon as Thomas is, tall and dark and looming and impassive, and if Thomas hadn’t been hard before, he would be now. But there’s one thing he’s decided, and that is, that if he’s going to sin against God and man, and declare himself an invert and an effeminate forever, he is by-God going to know the name of the other man, so when the stranger leans back against his tree and raises that eyebrow, Thomas puts one hand on his own chest and says, “Thomas,” and points at the other man.
The stranger raises his eyebrow higher, and then his smile appears, and he says, voice low and dangerous and everything Thomas hoped it might be, “Kocoum.”
“Kocoum,” Thomas repeats, and then he takes his shirt and breeches all the way off, and digs out the little jar, and opens it, and shows the man what’s inside. It’s liniment, made for sore muscles, and all the men use it after a long day’s digging, but it’s not meant for this - what is? - and Kocoum looks a little confused for a moment, just a touch, like a shadow on that impassive stone face. Thomas takes a deep breath, and digs his fingers into the liniment, and transfers it to…where it needs to go. For a long moment, Kocoum doesn’t move, and Thomas wonders if this is too much, too wrong, if even savages from across the world know how demeaning and ugly this is, and then there is a strong hand in his hair and strong lips pressed against his, and he is being backed up against a tree.
That’s probably a ‘yes,’ then.
Kocoum is absurdly strong, strong enough to life Thomas completely off his feet and hoist Thomas’s legs into the air, pinning Thomas against the tree, and Thomas puts his head back and braces his hands on Kocoum’s shoulders and goes with it. He’s not even sure when Kocoum got his loincloth off, but clearly he did, because there’s a particular hot, hard, strong part of Kocoum pressing up against Thomas, and Thomas has the sudden thought this will probably hurt and then Kocoum is easing into him, slowly, clearly trying to be gentle, and Thomas grins and relaxes, because Kocoum is trying to be gentle, which means this is more than just a fuck. He hopes.
It is, however, a really good fuck, because Kocoum is strong and coordinated and, when he realizes that Thomas is really enjoying this, lets himself go a bit - thrusts harder, pushes Thomas more firmly against the tree - blessed tree - and Thomas bites down on his own fist to muffle his cries and comes, untouched, between them, and Kocoum thrusts once, twice, three more times and stills, shivering, and Thomas hears a very, very low moan. Which is incredibly hot, actually, that he actually made Kocoum moan.
Kocoum kisses him again, almost gently, and puts Thomas’s feet back on the ground, and helps him clean off - Thomas brought a handkerchief - and watches as Thomas gets dressed again. This time, for the first time, Thomas leaves first.
The stranger raises his eyebrow higher, and then his smile appears, and he says, voice low and dangerous and everything Thomas hoped it might be, “Kocoum.”
“Kocoum,” Thomas repeats, and then he takes his shirt and breeches all the way off, and digs out the little jar, and opens it, and shows the man what’s inside. It’s liniment, made for sore muscles, and all the men use it after a long day’s digging, but it’s not meant for this - what is? - and Kocoum looks a little confused for a moment, just a touch, like a shadow on that impassive stone face. Thomas takes a deep breath, and digs his fingers into the liniment, and transfers it to…where it needs to go. For a long moment, Kocoum doesn’t move, and Thomas wonders if this is too much, too wrong, if even savages from across the world know how demeaning and ugly this is, and then there is a strong hand in his hair and strong lips pressed against his, and he is being backed up against a tree.
That’s probably a ‘yes,’ then.
Kocoum is absurdly strong, strong enough to life Thomas completely off his feet and hoist Thomas’s legs into the air, pinning Thomas against the tree, and Thomas puts his head back and braces his hands on Kocoum’s shoulders and goes with it. He’s not even sure when Kocoum got his loincloth off, but clearly he did, because there’s a particular hot, hard, strong part of Kocoum pressing up against Thomas, and Thomas has the sudden thought this will probably hurt and then Kocoum is easing into him, slowly, clearly trying to be gentle, and Thomas grins and relaxes, because Kocoum is trying to be gentle, which means this is more than just a fuck. He hopes.
It is, however, a really good fuck, because Kocoum is strong and coordinated and, when he realizes that Thomas is really enjoying this, lets himself go a bit - thrusts harder, pushes Thomas more firmly against the tree - blessed tree - and Thomas bites down on his own fist to muffle his cries and comes, untouched, between them, and Kocoum thrusts once, twice, three more times and stills, shivering, and Thomas hears a very, very low moan. Which is incredibly hot, actually, that he actually made Kocoum moan.
Kocoum kisses him again, almost gently, and puts Thomas’s feet back on the ground, and helps him clean off - Thomas brought a handkerchief - and watches as Thomas gets dressed again. This time, for the first time, Thomas leaves first.
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