Whatever It Takes
Page 13
“I wish it was dark enough to see stars,” Roman said.
“It was in Aleppo when the sky wasn’t lit up by explosions.”
“I saw on TV that it was bad there. Gas attacks. Civilians targeted.”
“It was worse than bad.” Zain’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t like to think about it.”
Something else they had in common.
“I try to think about when life there was good and… I like stars too.” Zain’s voice brightened as he changed the subject. “My father had a telescope. Before the trouble started, we used to go to the roof and look at the sky. I tried to guess which were the stars that weren’t there anymore. I like the idea that their light lives on long after their mass has gone.”
Roman thought of his father and guessed that Zain had lost his too. “Come on then. Let’s lie down.” Roman walked over to one of the loungers and flopped onto it.
“We’re going to get cold.” Zain lay on the one next to him. “What’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen?”
“I once spotted an alligator lying in the gutter in Moscow.”
Zain turned to look at him and gasped. “A real one?”
“Yep. Just a small one.”
“Was it alive?”
“No.” Roman laughed. “What about you?”
“I’ve never seen an alligator in the gutter.”
“Thank goodness for that or it wouldn’t make my sighting so unusual.”
“The most interesting thing I’ve seen is the oldest thing in the world.”
Roman’s interest was piqued. “Intriguing. A meteorite?”
“Space dust. It’s in the Natural History Museum.”
Oh yes, I’ve seen that. “Fascinating.” Roman stared at his mouth.
“A tiny smudge of white power at the bottom of a small glass tube. Hardly visible but it’s millions of microscopic diamonds older than our solar system.”
“Amazing.” He moved his gaze to Zain’s eyes.
“Formed when a star exploded billions of years ago,” Zain croaked.
“Remarkable.” Roman ran his tongue over his lips.
“It looks like nothing and it’s everything.” Zain’s voice was barely audible.
“You’re a very interesting guy.”
“Shit. I was fascinating, amazing and remarkable a second ago. What changed?”
“You? It was the space dust I was talking about. But…”
“I like this but. But what? Is interesting good?”
“Yes, it’s good. I rarely find anyone to be interesting and sexy.”
“One out of two isn’t bad. Plus I’m funny. That has to count.”
Roman laughed.
“See? Told you. How long have you lived in the UK?” Zain asked.
“I came to school here when I was fourteen. Went back to Russia aged eighteen, then returned around three years ago.”
“Do you want to stay here?”
Roman hadn’t thought that far ahead. “For the time being—yes.” He climbed on top of Zain, planted his knees either side of Zain’s and supported himself on his forearms. “This is exactly where I want to be.”
He could hear his heart pounding fast in his head, anticipation making his pulse race and his cock harden. Zain stared up at him, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. He slid his hands onto Roman’s arse. Oh God.
This is just sex. This is just sex. This is just sex.
If he kept telling himself that, everything would be okay. Roman drew his tongue over Zain’s bruised cheek and his heart jumped. He should be hiding how much he wanted him and he couldn’t. From the moment he’d seen him in the café, he’d known one touch would never be enough. He’d always want more. Shit, shit, shit.
This wasn’t the plan.
This had never been the plan.
He was fucking changing the plan.
Roman lowered his head and brushed his lips across Zain’s, the slightest of touches, no more than a whispered breath, but his gut twisted as desire strengthened its hold. Zain gave a shaky moan, tightened his grip on Roman’s backside and the breath caught in Roman’s throat. As he traced the line of Zain’s lips with his tongue, Zain’s mouth opened, their tongues touched and they both froze for a second, not moving, neither of them even breathing. Whatever this is, he feels it too.
“Did I drink enough beer?” Zain whispered.
Roman made a sound that vaguely resembled a chuckle.
Zain lifted his head to kiss him and Roman was lost in an instant, pulled into a rip current, carried into deep water—I’m drowning. The kiss moved from gentle to hard and they twisted to lie on their sides, plastered themselves together, hands grabbing at backs, arses, shoulders, heads as they devoured each other. Roman’s cock pressed more firmly against his zip.
I want you now before I come in my trousers like some horny teenager. He pulled back to gasp four words. “Take your clothes off.”
“Out here?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to take yours off?”
“Too cold.”
Zain whined.
Roman struggled to his feet. “I’m going to stand over there and I want you to strip, then suck me off.”
Zain sat up. “Are you always so bossy?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t always do as I’m told.”
Roman smiled. “Good.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Zain gave a heavy sigh.
“You’ve never undressed before?” But Zain’s comment had reminded him this was not an experienced guy.
“Just take your clothes off,” Roman said quietly.
He stood against the aircon unit, his cock tenting his trousers as he watched Zain looking around nervously as he removed his clothes.
“It’s cold,” Zain said.
“Be quick then. Think about soaking in a hot bath as your reward.”
“Two hundred pounds. Five hundred and now a hot bath? How can you top that?”
Roman felt a moment’s discomfort at being reminded he’d paid Zain for sex but then dismissed it. “Bring your jeans to kneel on.”
It belatedly occurred to him that Zain still had to be hurting from that beating. But he could have said no. I’d have listened.
The roof was and wasn’t overlooked. No buildings were close enough to give a good view but they could still be seen and if anyone had a telescope… more than seen. Roman felt a thrill of pleasure. My kink. He’d had to keep his desires so tightly locked away… Was that why he had this urge to fuck in public? Semi-public. Zain prowled towards him like a big cat, sleek and slender, all long limbs and fluid grace. His cock was already erect. The first time Roman had actually seen it and his mouth watered. Though when Roman saw the bruises on Zain’s legs and his ribs, he felt guilty. Not a familiar emotion. But then, what emotions were?
Zain dropped his jeans at Roman’s feet, knelt on them and reached for the button on Roman’s trousers.
“No.” Roman knocked his hand away. “Jerk off.”
“Is that an insult or an instruction?”
“What do you think?”
Zain gulped. “What am I supposed to think about while I do that? Where’s inspiration when I need it? Oh, I know what I can think about. That blond guy I saw a couple of days ago. He had a lovely smile and didn’t look as though he liked barking orders.”
Roman held back his laugh. “Some might find your sarcasm appealing. But I’m crushed.”
“Doesn’t look like it to me.” Zain stared at the bulge in Roman’s trousers.
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“You know you have the sort of voice that no matter what you’re saying makes me think you’re saying—drop your trousers because I’m going to fuck you.”
Roman did laugh then. “Is that a problem?”
“If we were on Oxford Street, yes.”
“We’d just have to find a place a
bit less public.”
“Nerves are making me gabble.”
Zain stared up at him while he dragged his fingers up his own cock then down. He’d grasped the root tightly enough to make himself shudder and when he drew in a breath, Roman sucked in a breath of his own. Little by little Zain worked his way to the top of his cock, squeezing until fluid emerged from the slit and all the time, he stared into Roman’s face. Roman’s gaze flickered between Zain’s hand and his eyes.
“That’s good. Keep doing that,” Roman whispered.
“Really? I was thinking I could just come now.”
“Don’t. You have precome on your fingers. Suck them.”
Zain groaned. He dropped his other hand to his cock and ran his fingers over the precome gathering on the crest before bringing it to his mouth. He licked and sucked each finger in turn and Roman could feel his groin tightening, his own cock leaking, wetting his boxers.
“Keep going.”
“How long?”
“As long as I say.”
Zain did the same thing over again, squeeze release, squeeze release and Roman didn’t know what to look at—Zain’s eyes, Zain’s cock, the way his chest heaved, those delicate wet fingers. What would it be like to… Fuck.
The next drop of precome Zain milked was larger, his groan louder and Roman watched the fluid drip from the slit on his cock all the way down to his balls. He shuddered. He’d made a mistake. He wanted those hands, that mouth on his cock, but he was too entranced to stop him. Except…
“Don’t come until I tell you to,” Roman snapped.
And he was back in control. Zain groaned.
“Keep moving your hand,” Roman ordered.
“I’ve had enough now. Tell me to come.”
“Don’t.”
Zain groaned again but kept working his cock.
“Faster and don’t come.”
“Oh fuck,” Zain gasped but he sped up.
Roman’s mouth was dry. Zain was breathing noisily, more rapidly but he didn’t take his gaze from Roman’s face. He hardly blinked. Nor did Roman.
“You are so hot, so sexy. Oh fuck.” Roman moaned.
“Please,” Zain whispered. “I have to come. Say I can come.”
“You’re whining.”
Zain managed a short laugh. “Yeah I am. Whining and whinging and wailing. Tell me I can come. One word.” Zain shuddered. “Say it. Please.”
“Come then.”
“That’s two. Don’t feel like it anymore.”
Roman laughed, then Zain was coming, jet after jet spraying out over Zain’s fingers, and onto the patch of roof between them. Zain’s eyes had fluttered closed and Roman wondered if he’d ever seen anything more beautiful as the guy kneeling in front of him. He unfastened his trousers, yanked down his boxers and pulled Zain’s head in close.
A couple of sucks and he was done. Orgasm snagged him like a tiger’s claws, and he erupted into Zain’s mouth, coming so hard, he couldn’t breathe. He leaned back against the aircon unit and wondered if he’d opened Pandora’s box. Shit, he’d done that the moment he’d followed him to that statue in Deptford.
“Phenomenal,” Roman said.
“Me or you?”
He laughed. “Lick me clean?”
Zain licked him, then tucked him away and fastened his trousers, and the ice in Roman’s heart melted a little more.
“Think they caught that on Google Earth?” Zain pushed to his feet.
Roman snorted, Zain leaned into him and Roman wrapped his arms around him. He seemed to be making a habit of gestures of affection but Zain pressed against him and it felt…right.
“Maybe they have to check every image just in case they offend some little old lady checking to see what her neighbour’s doing in his back garden,” Zain said.
“Maybe they do.”
“You promised a bath.”
“I did. I’ll cook while you take it.”
“How much water can I have?”
“As much as you like.”
“I want it really deep.”
Roman shrugged. “Deep is fine.”
“Bubbles?”
“There’s bath gel. You should be able to make some bubbles with that.”
Once Zain was in the bathroom, Roman went into his study, and took a deep breath. He was either brilliant or a fool. The jury was out.
Zain stepped into the bath, slid under the layer of bubbles and into the hot water—perfect temperature—and shuddered with pleasure. His body relaxed, but his brain didn’t. Who was that guy on the roof? Because it hadn’t been him. It hadn’t even sounded like him. Was the real unfettered version of himself beginning to emerge from his chrysalis? He didn’t know what he was doing and yet all he could do was let himself loose.
From a life that a few days ago was safe if boring, he felt as if he’d been caught up in a fast-moving storm that was dragging him away from safety and wasn’t going to release him. Roman was the reason. Roman was the storm. Roman was…electrifying and frightening. It was as if Roman had thrown the doors open on what it was like to be gay and Zain had rushed through headlong without thinking of what he was going to find, what he’d need to do, or say. He’d spent so long wondering and now he had the chance to find out for real, he wanted to know everything, do everything.
He’d brought himself off in front of a guy! He’d never even thought about doing that. But he’d liked it. Roman had liked it and he liked Roman. He shouldn’t. He knew that but he couldn’t help himself.
Except what the hell had all that hiding thing been about? Not just the stairs located behind the secret door but the way they lifted up to reveal that place beneath? Roman was scared of something. Really scared. And not of a violent ex. That didn’t feel right. All Roman had to do was refuse to let him into the building, then his door. Two barriers between them. Zain had thought him confident and self-assured but in revealing that hiding place, Roman had shown he was scared for himself too. Flutters of anxiety twisted in Zain’s gut and yet it made Roman more real to him, more approachable.
Do I trust him? Can I? Until Roman had revealed that spot under the stairs, Zain would have said he wasn’t sure, erring towards no. He still wasn’t sure but he was erring towards yes, except he needed to know what was going on with Roman’s life, needed to get to know him—and for Roman to want to get to know me. That would make trusting easier.
Zain wanted this to be more than sex, hot as it was, though deep down, he didn’t think that was what Roman wanted. They’d talked a little but not really much about themselves. Was that the way things usually worked with gay guys? It was all about the sex and not much else?
Look at where you are. In his flat. Isn’t that telling you it’s more than sex?
Maybe.
Yes.
No.
I don’t know.
Zain had kind of enjoyed being ordered around when they were…doing stuff. He hadn’t even known he’d feel like that. Being naked on a roof… Jerking off in front of him had been… Oh God. It had been hot. He’d said more to Roman than he had to anyone for a long time. He was the first person Zain had wanted to talk to.
Roman was interesting. Just like that tube of space dust. Intriguing. Fascinating. All those words Roman had used about the space dust, though he’d meant Zain, applied to Roman too. He smiled. Zain bent his knees and slid down so that his head was under the water. Roman might have paid him for the blowjob but Zain hadn’t asked for the money. He could pay it back along with the money to go to that party.
Should he ask Roman if he’d been jealous? Or stay quiet. Their relationship—if it could be called that—was complicated.
It can’t be called that. We aren’t even friends.
Not yet.
I don’t know how to have a boyfriend, how to be a boyfriend. His heart started to race. Roman was the first person to say Zain was gay. Roman had known and Zain had thought Roman was too, even in the café. How?
He sat up, reached for Rom
an’s shampoo and washed his hair. Now he was hiding in the guy’s flat. Am I really in so much danger that I need to hide under the stairs? But why would Roman have shown him the hideaway if he wasn’t in danger? Shit. He didn’t want to miss taking the UCAT, plus he needed to look for another job and a place to live. How was he supposed to do any of that if he was stuck here? This…association with Roman was unlikely to last even if Zain wanted it to. I don’t know if I do. I don’t know if I can cope with a guy like him, if I’m strong enough. Thinking that sent him back down into the water.
What did Roman do for a living? How could he afford to buy a place like this? What would happen when the danger to Zain was gone? Why would it go? How? What about the danger Roman was in? Would that go too? What if Zain didn’t get offered a place at medical school for the second time? At what point should he give up? Should he apply to be a paramedic instead?
He literally submerged under the barrage of questions. His head dropped under the water and he held his breath. So much for a relaxing soak. But they were questions he needed answering. He stood up. He still looked a mess, bruised and battered. If that acid had hit him… He gulped.
Zain emerged from the bathroom in the same jeans and T-shirt. He’d used Roman’s hairbrush because his was still in his bag. Did Roman want him to sleep in the guest room? Somehow, he thought not.
Zain sniffed. Something was teasing his scent buds and his stomach rumbled.
“Meatballs in tomato sauce with rice. Okay?” Roman asked.
Zain nodded.
“Want another beer?”
“Will you still kiss me if I say no?”
Roman laughed. “Yeah.”
“Then no thanks.” The beer had been okay but he didn’t want another.
“There was no way to cook in your room. Did you share a kitchen?”
Zain perched on a stool opposite where Roman was working. “There was no kitchen to share. If I wanted something hot, I bought it. I needed a cheap place to live and I wanted it unfurnished because the last place had been awful. The mattress… Well, I thought I could manage if I bought an inflatable bed, that I could save money and I did but it was difficult.”