Whatever It Takes

by Barbara Elsborg

  Nor could Zain by the expression on his face. “I don’t want that to be the reason you ask.”

  “I…” Zain was right but Roman had to sort this. “All your life you’ve dreamed about becoming a doctor. Training in London like your father. I don’t want to be the person who destroyed your dream.”

  “If I can’t be a doctor, then I’ll be a paramedic. I have a new dream now and that’s a life with you. If the best we can get is you going to Moscow for a few months and taking over Arkady’s business, then that’s what I want.”

  Roman sighed.

  “Call them back,” Zain said. “Let me do the negotiating. You’re crap.”

  And finally, Roman laughed. He could no more contemplate a future without Zain than he could a life without water.

  When Mason and Helen came back into the room, both he and Zain stayed on their feet.

  “There are conditions,” Zain said.

  “Yes there are,” Mason said. “We want Roman back in Moscow the day after Arkady’s funeral. There is a lot we need to sort out.”

  “I want to go to university in London. You don’t need to fix it. I’ll apply like everyone else. Roman and I will live together. He’ll work for you for two years. No more. Unless…Roman wants to carry on. We’ll spend the next two days together in his flat.”

  “One day.”

  “Two.”

  “One,” Mason repeated. “There’s too much to cover in one day.”

  “Well, cover it there. It’s not safe to have him coming backwards and forwards to here.”

  “There’d be no need for that.”

  “Then he can be at the flat. And we want to leave now.”

  Mason smiled. “You’re a very determined young man.”

  “I’m also very protective.” Zain held out his hand. “Don’t go back on this. Two years unless Roman decides otherwise, and he’s not to be put under pressure.”

  Mason shook his hand.

  Zain groaned. “I know I’ll have forgotten something. Some loophole that you’ll laugh about, but this is our life. We only get one. Both of us have enough tragedy in our past to understand how fragile existence is. Roman is a good man. Treat him fairly because he’s mine. And I love him.”

  Zain slid his hand into his and Roman squeezed his fingers.

  “That’s quite a young man you have there,” Mason said.

  And he’s mine. Roman could hardly believe it.

  Safe passage to his flat was arranged within a couple of hours. Zain would be taken there separately. Helen would come to the flat in the morning to fill in their back stories, to go over arrangements, help Roman respond to any messages and emails. Until then, he and Zain had time together. Private time.

  Roman was taken back to the hospital where he’d been treated. Snuck in at the rear, so he could leave through the front entrance and catch a cab back to the flat where Zain was waiting for him. When Roman had closed the door, he gave a heavy sigh. Zain opened his mouth and Roman put a finger over his lips. Helen had returned his phone to him and Roman left Zain by the door and used the app to check for recording devices. He found nothing.

  “We’re okay,” he said to Zain and Zain melted in his arms. “I love you,” Roman whispered into Zain’s hair. “I wish for your sake that I’d never met you and yet you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

  Zain pulled back and stared into his eyes.

  “You’re the bravest, strongest, most loving person I have ever met,” Roman said quietly. “When I look at you, you take my breath away.”

  “I can do other things to take your breath away.”

  Roman smiled. “Be gentle. Remember I was shot. Twice.”

  Zain rolled his lovely eyes. “Do I need to inspect your wounds?”

  “I need you to inspect a lot more than that.” His heart thumped.

  Roman winced as he pulled off his shirt.

  Zain bit his lip as he gently touched the healing wounds on both sides of Roman’s arm. “It could have been so much worse.”

  “I suspect the story will be that it was much worse.”

  Zain undressed like a streak of lightning. When Roman saw the thin red line across his abdomen, and the faded bruises on his body, he found himself clenching his fists.

  Zain wrapped his hands around Roman’s and unpeeled his fingers. “Not today. We’re not going to talk about anything to do with that today. Not until we’ve fucked our brains out, anyway.”

  He helped Roman get rid of the rest of his clothes and when he stood, Roman pulled him into his arms. “I want to fuck you right this second. Up against the wall.”

  Zain gave a heavy sigh. “Don’t forget you were shot.”

  Roman laughed. “Bedroom then.”

  “Okay, old man.”

  Good thing Zain ran. Though once they were lying down facing each other, Roman forget why Zain had pissed him off.

  Zain licked his way down Roman’s chest until he reached his cock, erect from the moment he’d closed the flat door, though it had been semi-erect longer than that. Zain licked and caressed his dick with his cheek, breathed on him and Roman felt as if he were sinking into the bed.

  “That feels so good.” He threaded his fingers in Zain’s hair.

  Zain stared up at him and put his lips over the glistening crest, caressing with the tip of his tongue.

  “Zaaaaaaaain.” His name came out in a long whisper. “I can’t play. I have to be inside you. We need lube.”

  “Have your arms fallen off?”

  Roman whined. “I was shot.”

  Zain growled. “That’s wearing thin.” But he gave Roman’s cock one long leisurely lick, then crawled up the bed to get a tube from the drawer along with a condom.

  Roman held out his hand but Zain pushed his fingers away. He straddled Roman’s hips, squirted the gloopy liquid onto his fingers and reached back to his arse.

  Roman groaned. “I was going to do that.”

  “You can’t. You’ve been shot. Have you forgotten?”

  Roman huffed and watched Zain’s face as he prepared himself, imagining his fingers pressing against his hole, sliding inside. Roman’s cock released a burst of precome and he moaned. Zain scooped the fluid up with his finger, rubbed his fingers together, then licked each one. Slowly. The bastard. He opened the condom, pulled it onto Roman’s cock and smeared it with lube.

  Zain crouched over his lap and brought Roman’s shaft up to his hole, and stared into Roman’s eyes. “You swear you didn’t miss a camera that might—right at this moment—be focused on my backside?”

  “Get popcorn, guys,” Roman called.

  Zain froze.

  Roman smiled. “No camera. I swear.”

  He grasped Zain’s backside with both hands and held tight to the cheeks of his arse. The rounded head of his cock nudged at the entrance to Zain’s body and Zain sank down an inch at a time.

  “Fuuuuuck,” Zain gasped.

  Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come. “That feels good.”

  Not just good. It felt perfect, his cock sinking into Zain’s body, and Roman tingled with anticipation. He wrapped his hand around Zain’s neck and tugged him forward to kiss him. Roman swallowed Zain’s exhalation and at the same time bucked his hips to drive his cock the rest of the way home.

  “Ahhh,” Zain gasped. “I’m supposed to be in charge.”

  “Not in the bedroom.” Roman rocked up into him and Zain whined. “Move, bratkin.”

  Zain made a noise somewhere between a howl and a chuckle as he began to lift himself up and down, taking all of Roman’s cock into his body before coming up and leaving only the tip inside. Roman let out a shaky breath.

  Too slow. Too controlled. I need more. Desperation won and Roman grabbed Zain by the waist and began to drive up into him, fast and hard. Judging by the way Zain’s eyes rolled back in his head, Roman’s cock was hitting his prostate. Zain tried to press down into Roman’s up thrust, and for a while they were in sync, and it felt
so fucking perfect, Roman wanted to do it forever.

  A feeling he managed to hang onto for a few minutes—maybe—before orgasm sizzled inside him, firing neurons, setting fires all over his body. They were both noisy, their gasps and cries turning into a language of their own. Zain’s rhythm faltered as he brought a hand to his cock and began to jerk himself off.

  “I’m letting you off this time.” Zain panted. “Because you were shot. But oh God, fuck, God.”

  Zain came, jetting come over his fingers and Roman’s chest, and it triggered Roman’s orgasm. It was as if every nerve in his body had slipped into a frenzied dance. He came in a shower of sparks, his breathing stopping in its tracks with the intensity of the sensation. Only when the last spurt had filled the condom did his lungs restart.

  How could it feel better every time they fucked? It wasn’t possible. They’d have to reach the peak eventually. Wouldn’t they? Zain dropped forward, letting Roman’s cock slip free, then lay on top of him.

  “Do you think they’re giving us marks out of ten?” Zain whispered.

  Roman laughed. “How many for that?”

  “Ten for me, obviously. I did most of the work. What with you having been shot. Twice.”

  And Roman hoped they were actually watching and saw what they had between them was something special.

  When they’d showered and changed the sheets, they’d sat in bed and eaten a meal quickly made from frozen ravioli and pesto sauce. Zain declined wine, so Roman didn’t bother. He needed to keep his head straight in any case.

  Zain lay on his side and propped his head up on his hand. “I want you to be totally honest. Tell me what you’d like to happen. Not what they’ve told us has to happen.”

  Roman brushed Zain’s hair from his eyes. “Whether it’s possible or not?”

  “Who decides whether something’s possible? Tell me what you want.”

  Roman thought about it. “There’s no point being idealistic.”

  “Be idealistic for a minute. If you could choose what you wanted to do, where you wanted to live, what would you say?”

  “As to where I want to live… As long as we’re together, I don’t care. Not Russia because you don’t speak Russian.”

  “I could learn. There are half a million words in English and less than a hundred thousand in Russian. Easy.”

  “Russia isn’t friendly to gays.”

  “Will Helen want you to go back in the closet?”

  “That won’t happen but I’ll have to be careful in Moscow.”

  “If you don’t want to live in Russia, then where?”

  “I don’t know if we’d be allowed into America or Canada, though they’d be my top choices if we couldn’t stay here. But I like the UK.”

  This was a pointless discussion. Their immediate future had already been decided.

  “That was the easy question,” Zain said. “What about what you want to do?”

  Roman didn’t say anything and Zain nuzzled closer.

  “Don’t you know or are you still thinking?” Zain asked.

  “Thinking.”

  “You could go to university and study geology.”

  “I’ve done enough studying. I like rocks but it’s just a hobby.”

  “Work in finance? A job in a bank?”

  “Do you think they’d let that happen?”

  “We could walk away from everything.”

  “We’d have no money. They’d freeze my account. So unless you have hidden millions…”

  “You have your flat.”

  “But selling it would take time. Maybe they could even fuck that up.”

  Zain pulled back to look him straight in the face. “You want to work for them?”

  Roman hesitated. “In an ideal world—no. But in this world—yes.”

  “Are you doing it for me?” Zain whispered.

  “For us. To give us a chance of the future we’d choose if we were able to.” Roman took a deep breath. “I can easily handle the property side of Arkady’s business, the buying and selling, the acquiring of whatever needs to be acquired. Houses, boats, businesses, guitars, paintings. I know a lot of Russians. Novii Ruskii. Businessmen, government officials, popstars, designers and the Russian It girls with their long legs and jewel-encrusted phones who spend money like water. I’m good at helping people spend money. I never disliked that side of it. While you study at medical school, it would keep me busy. The rest of what Arkady did… I can pass on information. I’m good at watching and listening.”

  “It’s risky.”

  “Less risky now there is no Dima, Qash or Arkady.”

  “You swear?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’d be a spy.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you get an Aston Martin?”

  Roman smiled. “I could buy one.”

  “Will you make a lot of money?”

  “Yes.”

  “No problem then.” Zain grinned.

  Roman mock glared. “Good thing I know you’re joking.”

  Zain kissed him on the lips. “If you wanted to walk out of here right this minute, with nothing except the clothes we wore—even though we’re not currently wearing any, I’d be by your side.”

  Roman’s heart thumped.

  “Well maybe cowering behind you if we’re naked.”

  “You didn’t cower behind me. You threw yourself in front of me and saved my life.”

  Zain’s eyes twinkled. “I’d forgotten.”

  “I think you started to save me from the moment you walked into that café. You reminded me that I’d lost sight of what life was really about. That finding someone I wanted to be with, share my time with, laugh with was more important than anything else.

  “Let me keep you safe now. Let MI5, MI6 and the NCA weave their stories and I’ll work for them. Let them find you a place to start medical school in London in a couple of weeks’ time. Live in my flat while I’m away and when I get back, we’ll look at Arkady’s house together and decide if we’d rather live there. Or we can choose a new place together.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want to do. You not doing it just for me?”

  I’d do anything for you. “I think it’s the best solution.”

  “Okay. Just don’t get shot again. You’re such a baby.”

  Roman laughed. “Oh dear. You’re going to be sorry you said that.”

  Zain grinned. “You think?”

  They had their first argument the next day. Roman wanted Zain to go to the room on the roof while he talked to Helen. Zain wanted to go out.

  “Roman.” Zain stroked his arm. “What do you think I’m going to do for the next month or however long you’re away? I can’t stay in the flat.”

  Roman sucked in his cheeks.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m only going across the river. I thought I’d abseil down the ArcelorMittal Orbit thing. Eighty metres up. Looks fun.”

  Roman groaned and Zain hugged him, being careful of his arm. “I’m fine. I’ll buy us something for dinner and be back in a couple of hours.”

  “You’re not actually going—”

  Zain rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not going to buy dinner.”

  Roman laughed.

  Zain left when Helen buzzed to say she’d arrived. He took the stairs assuming Helen would use the lift, but he met her in the stairwell.

  “Keeping fit or did you want to talk to me?” Zain asked.

  “I want you to understand what you’re letting yourself in for. How careful you’ll have to be. How careful Roman will have to be.”

  “I do understand. I know the consequences of not being careful.”

  She nodded. “What about medical school? Can we convince you to go now? In London?”

  Zain hesitated. “I wouldn’t be pushing out someone else?”

  Helen smiled. “No. You have perfect grades, along with an excellent score in the UCAT. We’ve read your statement. You’d get the place under your own merits otherwise they wouldn’t
be making the offer. King’s College.”

  Zain gulped. Did they know that was where his father had gone? Of course they did. There wasn’t really anything to think about. What was the point in waiting a year? What could he do during that time?

  “Yes. I’d like that. Thank you.”

  “They need to interview you for formality’s sake. My driver will meet you at the door and take you now.”

  Zain gaped at her. “But you didn’t know I’d agree.”

  “You’re a bright young man. I knew you’d say yes.” She carried on up the stairs.

  Zain looked down at his jeans, the too-large coat of Roman’s that he’d borrowed and thought of his faded grey T-shirt beneath and winced. He considered going back up to get his solitary shirt but instead continued down and emerged into sunshine to see a guy in a dark suit waiting.

  “Zain?” the man asked.

  “Call Helen on your phone.”

  The man’s mouth twitched in a smile and did as Zain said, then handed him the phone.

  “Just checking,” Zain said.

  “You’re going to be fine,” Helen said.

  By the time Zain returned to the flat with food to cook that night, it was mid-afternoon and Helen had gone.

  Roman pulled him into his arms. “How was the abseiling?”

  “I chickened out and bought chicken for dinner.”

  “We’ll do it together.”

  “No we won’t.”

  Roman took the bag from him and carried it to the kitchen.

  “Did Helen tell you where I’ve been?” Zain asked.

  Roman spun round. “No. What’s happened?”

  “In nine days’ time, I’m going to be an undergraduate at King’s College medical school. I went for an interview. One of the guys…” Zain gulped back a sob. “He knew my father.”

  Roman tugged him close and pressed his face into Zain’s hair.

  “If I’d known his name…” Zain wrapped his arms around Roman’s waist.

  “Then we’d probably never have met.”

  “That’s true. So what happened with Helen? Come and sit down and tell me. You need to look after your arm. You were shot, remember?”

  Roman glared and yanked him down so that Zain lay half on top of him. “Enough of that.”