World Turned Upside Down

by Elyse Springer

  It happened so suddenly that Simon didn’t even have a chance to freak out.

  One minute they were shoveling out a loading bay, alternating between lifting and pushing the heavy snow to the side. Then Asher vanished for a second and came back with two steaming cups.

  “Here,” he said. “Let’s take a break. I made some hot chocolate… just the powdered stuff, but we need the calories and it’ll help you warm up.”

  Simon gratefully propped his shovel against the building, straightened, and took the offered cup. Asher had moved his snow goggles up to sit over his forehead, and his bright eyes crinkled as he smiled and Simon—

  Simon felt something in his chest settle into place.

  I like him. A lot.

  There were no accompanying fireworks, no explosion of aurora above them to mark the moment. Just the two of them standing in the middle of a snow drift, sipping powdered hot cocoa together, eyes locked.

  When the cups were empty, Asher went to take them back inside. Simon stopped him with a hand on his arm, leaned up on his toes, and kissed Asher softly.

  “What was that for?” Asher asked, looking pleased.

  “Just wanted to thank you for being so thoughtful.”

  Asher leaned down and kissed him back.

  This time it was Simon’s turn to ask, “What was that for?”

  Asher grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  “I DON’T understand,” Oli said, halfway through July. “How have you not done the dirty with Mr. Sexypants yet?”

  Simon rolled his eyes. “Done the dirty? Did we revert back to high school and no one told me?”

  Oli waved a hand. “Banged, then. Tapped that ass. Bumped uglies, even.” He leveled a glare at Simon from across the table. “Don’t try to duck the question, Bancroft. You and Asher have been spending every free second together since Midwinter, and you’re telling me you haven’t fucked yet?”

  The question made Simon look away, a fissure of guilt forming in his stomach. He knew Oli well enough to know that his friend didn’t mean to be offensive. A year ago he would have laughed and shared every detail. Hell, a month ago he would have been right there beside Oli, wondering why and how the “banging” hadn’t occurred yet. But now….

  Now something had changed. And the bet that he’d made with Oli and Miranda was a sour knot that he couldn’t seem to shake.

  “Yeah,” Simon said quietly, “that’s what I’m telling you.”

  It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either. The night of Midwinter might have ended a little abruptly, but Simon was realizing that he was okay with taking things slow. Somewhere along the line, getting to know Asher had become more important than a quick-and-dirty fuck.

  Which wasn’t to say that they weren’t having sex.

  Asher was hesitant to actually fuck Simon, but there were other ways to pass the long, cold nights—and Asher had zero hesitation when it came to helping Simon stay warm. The two of them could just fit in one of the narrow McMurdo beds if they twined together, Simon’s leg hiked over Asher’s hip, Asher’s back against the wall with his arms wrapped around Simon to prevent him from falling off. It was the perfect position for them to rub off against one another through their base layers.

  Even better had been the time they’d fallen asleep on a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Simon had woken up to Asher curled around his back, a furnace surrounding him with heavy arms, and one hand dipping below the waistband of Simon’s boxers to wrap around his already-weeping cock. Asher had gotten him off like that with short, quick strokes, his own dick hard against the small of Simon’s back.

  But handjobs and frotting against one another wasn’t what Oli was asking about. And while Oli was a friend, Simon was reluctant to tell him or Miranda about his developing relationship with Asher.

  They won’t make fun of you, a voice in his head pointed out.

  Simon knew that. His friends might mock him, but it would be friendly, gentle, and they’d be happy that he’d found someone to pass the season with.

  The problem is that I’m not sure what this is between us yet. And until I do, there’s no point in telling anyone about it.

  He said goodbye to Oli a few minutes later and was strangely relieved to leave his friend behind as he ducked outside to the dorms.

  His feet carried him to the building next to his own, and down a corridor that was quickly becoming as familiar as the one he lived on. Simon tapped on the door, and Asher answered with a smile.

  “Hey, I wasn’t sure you were going to stop by tonight.”

  Simon managed a tiny smile. “Yeah, my friend Oli wanted to chat after dinner.”

  Asher reached out, brushing his fingers over Simon’s jaw. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Can I just—” Without bothering to finish the sentence, Simon stepped forward and let Asher’s arms envelop him.

  It felt a little like the moment when Simon stepped off the plane at Pegasus Field, his feet touching the ice shelf for the first time each season.

  He feels like coming home.

  “Come in?” Asher asked.

  “Yeah.” Simon briefly mourned the loss of the arms around him but followed Asher into the dorm room. He kicked off his boots, dumped his coat on the ground, and stepped out of his Carhartt pants.

  The joke came to mind again: Then he took off his sweater, and his outer shirt, and his jeans, and his leggings….

  He must have been smiling, because Asher asked, “What’s so funny?”

  Asher was already dressed down, a pair of sweats and a thin T-shirt that clung to his body like it was painted on. He’d sat down on the bed, propped up by one elbow, and looked like a feast waiting for Simon to devour him.

  “Just thinking that I am way, way overdressed,” Simon said.

  “Sounds like a serious problem.” Asher sounded serious, but his eyes were laughing. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll see if I can help you out with that.”

  Simon crossed the room unhurriedly, shedding another piece of clothing with each step, until he was only inches away from the edge of the bed. It was close enough for Asher to stretch a hand out and reel him in.

  “You really okay?” Asher asked.

  Simon ran a hand through Asher’s hair, which was getting long as the season went on, and enjoyed the shiver of pleasure that he got in return. “I’m fine, but I’d be better if you’d kiss me.”

  Asher kissed exactly the way Simon had dreamed he would, almost overpowering as he rolled over Simon and used his large body to cover him completely. He cupped Simon’s cheek in one large hand, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss.

  McMurdo beds weren’t designed for two people, but Simon had never let that stop him before. With Oli it had been easier, the two of them long and thin, twining together on the bed. With Asher, whose large frame filled the bed on its own, it required a little more creativity. Simon wriggled out of Asher’s grasp, sliding beneath him until his back was flat against the bed and Asher could tower over him, arms on either side of Simon’s head.

  “You’re in a good mood today,” Asher said, speaking the words against Simon’s jaw as he trailed his lips over the skin.

  Simon laughed, turning his neck to give Asher better access. “Was out with friends and couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  Asher pulled away just enough to meet Simon’s eyes. He looked pleased, a hint of red appearing on the top of his cheeks. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Simon propped himself up on his elbows.

  “I’m glad you came by then.”

  Asher kissed him again, and Simon fell back against the bed, letting the steady pressure of Asher’s weight press him against the mattress.

  Then Asher was moving down again, this time leaving wet kisses along Simon’s neck, nipping at this collarbone where his thermal shirt slid down. Asher made a low, frustrated noise when his mouth reached fabric, and shifted so he could use one hand to push Simon’s shirt up, palm hot and rough against Simon’s s
tomach and ribs as he bunched the fabric beneath Simon’s armpits.

  “Better,” Asher said, apparently to himself, before leaning back down to get his mouth on Simon’s skin once again. Simon gasped as Asher’s lips wrapped around one exposed nipple, tugging the nub gently between his teeth until Simon groaned.

  “Asher, god. So good.”

  The praise seemed to feed Asher’s enthusiasm, because he redoubled his efforts, teasing and tugging at Simon’s nipple until it was red and aching, his entire chest the best kind of sore. Then he pulled away to blow lightly over the abused flesh, breath icy against the heated skin.

  A sound escaped Simon that he’d never heard before, high and reedy, desperate. Asher huffed a laugh and teased the bud with the tip of his tongue. Just when Simon thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Asher smirked… and moved over to the other nipple to begin again.

  Simon was hard, getting harder by the second, but his entire existence had narrowed down to the two points of fire and pleasure on this chest. He was distantly aware of Asher’s large hand coming to rest on his hip, nails lightly scraping the delicate skin there before teasing over the band of Simon’s jeans. But Asher’s mouth, wicked and perfect, was the center of his attention.

  Once Asher appeared satisfied with his work, he leaned back a little, gaze tracing over Simon’s torso with obvious interest. His focus paused over the bulge in Simon’s pants, lingering appreciatively as a tiny smile curled over his lips.

  “You like that,” he observed.

  Simon blinked up at him. “Uh, yeah.”

  Asher laughed. “Good.”

  Then he was back to work, trailing his lips over Simon’s sternum, counting Simon’s ribs with his tongue, and using his teeth to pull up tiny red and blue bruises in a line down Simon’s stomach. His fingers, meanwhile, found the button of Simon’s jeans and were in the process of tugging them open, purposefully avoiding putting any pressure on Simon’s straining cock.

  Simon arched his hips off the bed, a wordless invitation that Asher took. Asher slipped his fingers through Simon’s belt loops and slowly pulled his jeans down over narrow hips, just far enough to reveal Simon’s briefs-covered cock. Then he leaned down, nudged the bulge with his nose, and exhaled hot and moist over it.

  “Asher!” Simon tried to say, though he didn’t get much further than “Aah!” before Asher was pressing his mouth against his dick, laving his tongue against the cloth until it was soaked through. It was almost too much for Simon, even with the layer between them.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Asher said, breathing the words so that his lips brushed over Simon’s length. “You look… debauched. God, Simon, if I had you in my bed like this all the time, I’d never want to leave it.”

  As he spoke, he hooked the tips of his fingers into the band of Simon’s underwear and inched them down so slowly that it took Simon a moment to notice. With every sliver of skin he revealed, Asher pressed his lips to it, until he could tuck the elastic behind Simon’s balls and suckle gently at the tip of his cock, which was leaking furiously.

  Asher moved away, running his gaze up Simon’s body with obvious appreciation. He met Simon’s eyes, held them as he said, “You’re amazing, Simon,” with a voice that was just above a whisper, and something almost like awe threaded through the words.

  It made Simon feel hot all over, made him want to squirm and hide beneath the blankets, and at the exact same moment, made him want to stretch out beneath Asher’s intense observation. He parted his lips, ran his tongue over them, and was struck dumb by the way Asher’s attention dipped to his mouth, eyes narrowed, heat making them darken until there was only a sliver of green visible.

  “Yeah,” Simon whispered.

  The word appeared to have spurred Asher into action. He shuddered, then moved to fumble at Simon’s briefs and jeans, shifting so he could tug them off. As he did so, Simon caught sight of Asher’s own cock, visibly hard in his pants. His mouth watered at the sight. He knew Asher was proportional—which was to say: big all over—but he hadn’t had a chance to get his mouth on Asher’s cock yet… and suddenly that was all he wanted.

  “Wait,” Simon said.

  Asher froze.

  “I have an idea.”

  Asher looked confused for a moment, then amused as Simon directed him to shift around, climbing off the bed. He moaned softly, though, when he realized what Simon was proposing, and when Asher climbed back on the bed, now facing the other way, he was breathing heavier and his lips were shiny and red from where he’d been running his tongue over them.

  This was something Simon had never tried before but had always wanted to attempt in a McMurdo single. And now, with Asher once again over him, knees straddling Simon’s head while his hands rested on either side of Simon’s thighs, he was getting a chance to do so.

  Simon fumbled to open Asher’s jeans and tug the zipper down. Asher was already hard, pushing through the slit of his boxers and leaking precum all over the fabric. He was uncut, the head of his cock dark red and leaking, and Simon didn’t hesitate before leaning up to wrap his lips around it to suck gently on the foreskin and lick the first hint of bitter saltiness that he found there.

  “Oh shit,” Asher gasped, his entire body quivering.

  Simon pulled back. “Yeah?”

  Asher huffed a laugh. “Yeah.”

  Then Asher bent his head down and got to work.

  Asher was enthusiastic, eager to please, and he slid down until Simon’s cock bumped the back of his throat. Simon bit back a curse, moaned, and clenched his fists in the sheet hard enough that his knuckles were aching, frantically trying not to come right then and there.

  But he had something else to focus on. Simon tilted his head back again, relaxing one hand enough to free it from the sheets so he could wrap it around Asher’s hip and tug him down, closer, guiding Asher’s cock into his mouth. Asher was big, but Simon was determined. He bobbed his head a couple of times and was pleased when Asher groaned appreciatively. Simon hadn’t prepared for the way Asher’s groan would vibrate through his own body, though, and he had to pull off for a second to breathe through the overwhelming sensation.

  There was no way either one of them were going to last long like this. Simon settled into it, a feedback loop of pressure and heat and sensation—his mouth full of Asher’s dick, the bitterness and saltiness of him, the thick, heavy feel, and the smooth velvet skin beneath his tongue. And then there was the heavenly suction around his own cock, Asher’s occasional moans like a vibrator along the entire length.

  There was something about the way that Asher’s dick stretched his lips that made Simon feel hot all over. He loved the feeling of being full, of Asher’s sounds and tiny, barely restrained movements surrounding him. Using one hand on Asher’s hip to steady himself, he alternated between licking and sucking, pausing occasionally to pull off entirely so he could drag air in and whimper as Asher worked him over in return.

  It wasn’t long before Simon’s jaw was starting to hurt, but the way Asher’s thighs had gone tense and his breathing had picked up made it all worthwhile. He relaxed, moving to suck on just the tip of Asher’s cock, and used his hand to jerk Asher off with tight, fast strokes.

  “Simon,” Asher gasped. “Si—”

  Simon hummed, pressing his tongue to the sensitive spot just beneath the head, and twisted his wrist.

  Asher came almost without warning, a long, low groan that echoed through Simon’s entire body as his back bowed.

  Simon’s head fell back against the bed, Asher’s dick slipping free to brush against his lips and leave a trail of sticky cum that he licked away. Above him Asher was a mass of tension and muscle, barely holding himself upright as he trembled.

  “So good, babe,” Simon said, running a soothing hand over Asher’s hip. “God, that was hot.”

  He was still hard, but it felt distant at that moment, not urgent as he brushed his tongue over Asher’s softening cock, cleaning him up, and feeling Asher’s body shake
as he struggled not to collapse.

  The urgency returned with full force, however, when Asher took a deep breath, made a high, needy sound, and leaned over to swallow Simon’s dick all the way down.

  “Holy fuck!” Simon flailed, thankful for Asher’s body pressing him into the bed to stop him from jerking upright and choking the other man. “Asher!”

  But Asher was apparently a man on a mission, judging by the way he attacked Simon’s dick with renewed vigor. He sucked hard, until Simon’s world narrowed to the suction and wet-hot-perfection of Asher’s mouth around him.

  He wasn’t going to last long. He’d already been on the edge from the combined pleasure of blowing Asher and being sucked off in return, and now his own orgasm was quickly building. He gasped when Asher pulled away to run his tongue across the underside of Simon’s cock, teasing the head briefly before swallowing him back down.

  Simon tried to draw a breath in, tried to speak, but couldn’t do either. Instead, he gripped Asher’s thigh, digging his fingers into the skin in silent warning, before he arched his hips off the bed and came down Asher’s throat in a whiteout rush so overwhelming that he almost passed out.

  Asher somehow managed to collapse onto the narrow strip of mattress between Simon and the wall, panting heavily and utterly boneless. Simon stared up at the ceiling for a long minute, catching his own breath, before scrambling to his knees so he could turn around and join Asher with his head at the foot of the bed.

  “That,” Asher said, eyes closed and blond lashes fanning his cheekbones, “was amazing.”

  Simon hummed contentedly, curling up against Asher and resting his head on the other man’s chest. He was sweaty and a little sticky, but warm and sated and utterly unwilling to move another inch until he absolutely had to.

  “Thank you,” Asher said after another minute.

  By that point Simon was half-asleep, but he managed to rouse himself long enough to glance up at Asher. “For what?”

  Asher pressed a kiss to his forehead. “For missing me, I guess. For coming over tonight.”