Take My Breath Away

by Malia Ulmus

  ***

  His fingers dig into his thighs sharply, maybe even drawing more blood, but anything that distracts him from the pain on his back is welcome now. Through gritted teeth, he releases a breath he’s been holding and he feels cold sweat on his forehead, mixing with the drizzle and his eyes are watery, too – and not from the rain at all. But in front of this man, he doesn’t want to give in, doesn’t want to look even weaker than he did already after he had to carry him here. He wants to keep a last bit of pride without really knowing why it matters anymore. There’s one good thing about the pain, he reckons, his eyes fixed on the clear water of the creek, streaming by in random patterns, twirling around the scattered rocks. The pain has at least made his beginning erection fade again. And that could have become even more embarrassing than a few tears shed over the painful treatment of his wounds. But the way the shepherd had been kneeling between his legs, hands wiping over his chest, the gentle way he is touching him… it’s been too much and his cock had taken rapid interest. Maybe it’s just been too long. But Manuel knows that’s not it. He’s been away from Carmen, only among men, for longer times before. He’s seen good-looking, well-trained soldiers or fellow compatriots naked in showers or while changing. And never has anyone ever caused a reaction similar to this. Never has a man made his breath hitch or his skin tingle, covered in gooseflesh, leave alone made his cock twitch. Never until today. And a small moan escapes his lips at the memory of the earlier touch on his wrists, despite the agonizing pain on his back and he can only hope that the other man will misread it as a sound of distress.

  ”Okay. I think you’re clean. And the rain is getting heavier, so we should move inside the tent before and get you warm.”

  A wave of relief floods Manuel. He throws a glance at the sheep, scattered over the grass, the dogs lying flat on the ground, ears on alert. It’s astonishing how they’re trained, how they obey. The shepherd doesn’t have to say a single thing when he moves inside the small tent. Manuel follows him, walking troubling him and when he climbs inside with another small moan, his eyes meet the other man’s, expression of concern on his face.

  ”You okay?”

  Manuel nods as good as he can, determined to keep up the façade for a bit longer and looks around, everything tiny, both of them crouched on a mat. There’s a crumpled sleeping back in a corner and a huge backpack, probably food reserves for the way up to his hut. Manuel wonders where and how he refills his stack.

  ”Turn around.”

  He blinks at the other in confusion for a moment, then sees the dressings in his hand and obeys.

  His hands are warm against the cold skin of Manuel’s back and he’s still being so damned gentle that it almost hurts, almost brings tears to the fighter’s eyes.

  ”Here, put this on, you have to get warm.”

  Manuel turns around to find the other holding a hoodie out to him. He takes it gratefully, only now noticing how much he is shivering and then he turns bright red, because his shoulders and arms still hurt so much that he won’t get it on. The other stares at him, puzzled, but then, reads him like an open book again and wordlessly assists him. The fabric feels soft, worn against his skin and it smells of a mix of detergent and the other man.

  ”You need dry jeans, too,” the man mumbles, evading his gaze and Manuel thinks, he’s blushing, too.

  With a small nod, Manuel surrenders to his fate and lets the other help him into a pair of sweatpants that he’s pulled out of the backpack. Manuel can’t look at him right now, everything too embarrassing, especially since he has no underwear. And possibly is half-hard. But if the other noticed anything, he’s polite enough not to mention it. Manuel crouches himself into a little heap in the farthest corner or the tent – though even that only gives them a ridiculous half meter of a gap – and wraps his arms around his legs, head on his knees, eyes on the ground, staring at the thin grey mat that looks clean but well used. He hears some rustling and breathes in the other man’s scent that’s still lingering in the hoodie. He is barefoot now, the other having taken his shoes away and he’s still cold, but he feels sort of clean. Cleaner than he has ever since they caught him. After a while, he dares to lift his head, eyes on the other man’s back. He’s taken off his shirt and is rummaging around and even in the damp light of the tent, Manuel clearly sees his tanned skin and the way the muscles move underneath and it looks so hot, so tempting, that he has to bite down on his lip once again.

  ***

  ”You need dry clothes, too.”

  Raul jerks around at the sound. It’s the first time the other has said a word and his voice sends a shiver down Raul’s spine, so soft and clear. He nods and holds up a T-Shirt.

  ”Yeah, I know, I know.” He slides into it, eyes on the other man, their gazes locked. There’s something strange in the air, tense. Raul swallows hard. “What’s your name?”

  It surprises him that the question only occurs to him now, but then there had been more important things until now, where they’re both crouching in a too small tent, Raul feeling dizzy over the other man’s smell so close to him and overwhelmed with the desire to wrap himself around him. It’s been too long. It’s just been too long. But he’s not even kidding himself, because it’s not as if this was his first summer away from Magdalena. And so far, he’s managed that without jumping at random strangers, nor has he seduced other shepherds or the shop owner during one of his rare visits to one of higher located farms to refill his food supplies. But this man, he’s different and Raul doesn’t really dare to ask himself why.

  ”Manuel. I’m Manuel. What’s your name?”

  ”Raul.” Why is my voice hoarse?

  ”You need dry pants.”

  Raul looks down at his legs, the damp spots from the rain and yes, it’s cold and uncomfortable. But…

  ”I-,” he blushes, “I don’t have any more.”

  There’s a moment of silence, the other man’s eyes wandering down to his pants and then Raul sees him starting to fidget with the waistband.

  ”Don’t you dare,” he says, giving the other a stern look.

  ”You could climb into the sleeping bag at least,” the other is barely whispering and staring at the ground.

  ”Certainly not. You’re taking that.”

  ”But you will freeze tonight and-“

  ”It’s not night yet.”

  ”But it will be. And-“ the other pauses, coughs and he’s still staring at the ground when he continues, his cheeks adorably pink, “we’re both grown up, right? We could just share?”

  And how do you reject that offer without giving away that you’re secretly in some strange, inexplicable way attracted to him? Raul eyes the ground intently, rummaging his brain for words and losing against the task. Wordlessly, he grabs some bread out of his bag for them and then unfolds his sleeping bag, opening it for them with a nervous chuckle and wriggling out of his soaked pants, wearing boxers and T-Shirt only now.

  ”Okay, you’re right. We’ll be okay.”

  Or you’ll run away screaming when you notice what you’re doing to me.

  With some rustling, fidgeting and a lot of awkward excuses mumbled, they settle in the confined space, Manuel basically sitting between his legs now, the blanket pulled up over their chests. It’s nice to have him so close, Raul thinks, at the same time willing his cock to stay where it is.

  ”Hungry?”

  He rips the bread in half, holding up one piece.

  ”Yes. Thank you.” Manuel is whispering again, head hanging slightly.

  It’s a shame he cannot see the beautiful eyes anymore with the way they’re sitting. Raul sighs and starts eating and they both chew in silence, the noise of the rain against the tent the only sound around them.

  ***

  It’s difficult to stay awake, with his stomach a bit filled for the first time in a couple of days and with the even sound of raindrops and the comfortable heat that’s enveloping his body. Manuel tries to keep his eyes open, but his head keeps sink
ing back, coming to rest against Raul’s shoulder. Against his back he feels Raul’s chest heaving evenly and after a while, his eyelids fluttered closed again, he notices how Raul’s fingers start drawing those little patterns on his wrists again. Maybe he thought Manuel was already asleep and wouldn’t notice? And why is he doing it at all? Manuel decides not to question it too much though, because it feels so good, so tender and he is loving this delicate moment too much to ruin it by opening his mouth or eyes.

  When he has almost drifted away, he hears Raul’s voice, whispering into his hair and he couldn’t say with certainty whether it’s real or already a dream.

  ”Don’t worry, I’ll look after you know. Nothing’s going to harm you anymore.”

  Crumble like ashes away from the fire

  I'm here to catch you and hold you a while

  I'll just hold you a while

  Chapter 4

  Never in his life has Raul felt so tested on his amount of self-restraint as he does right now. Cramped into the sleeping back, their bodies heating up nicely and to the point of becoming a bit sweaty, with the other man, no, Manuel, between his legs and very much against his crotch and chest, he feels like he is about to burst. It takes all his will and then some to avoid becoming rock hard. The atmosphere, warmth, the sound of the rain on the tent, the slow-falling darkness, the even way Manuel’s chest is heaving; it’s all made to lull him into sleep, but he is wide awake. When he should be thinking about Magdalena and his son, he is actually sitting here and keeps thinking about the still unfamiliar and at the same time so very well understood man in his lap, wonders how he ended up in the war that Raul doesn’t understand, wondering about his upbringing and his family, whether he is already married or not. From his voice, the lack of strong regional accent that Raul’s own has, he guesses that Manuel must have had a rather urban, probably academic upbringing and Raul cannot help feeling inferior. What could a well-educated and courageous resistance activist see in a simple shepherd?

  Only then Raul realizes what way his thoughts have been taking, actually considering… well, what? A relationship between the two of them? He shakes his head in disbelief, lectures of priests and parents in his ears, telling him how very unnatural it is for two men to be in love. And young Raul never doubted that fact, never spend a single moment contemplating another man, didn’t even engage in the obscene plays and contests some of his male friends would engage in during their teenage years. Raul is a honest man, a faithful husband, a devout Christian. And the weight of the small necklace, the one with the ring and the cross, it feels leaden, at least twice of its usual weight.

  ***

  With Raul’s touch on his wrists and the other man’s heartbeat vibrating through his body, Manuel feels as safe as a child in his mother’s arms. The feeling is overwhelming, having spent months in terror, especially the last weeks being a never ending row of horrible occurrences. He’s seen people die and it’s been even worse to hear people die, the animalistic screams and cries things he’ll never get out of his head. His own torments have been unbearable, the degradation often worse than the actual pain, but hearing his comrades beg for mercy and later only release strangled, desperate cries, without being able to help them, that has been the worst punishment. Because Manuel, at the bottom of his heart, is compassionate. He gets attached to people. Even in the darkest hours of the war, he could never forget that those around them are human beings and the guilt he will have to carry after some of his actions has long begun to weigh him down. There have been moments during his captivity, where he thought he didn’t deserve better, where the thought of being tortured to death seemed like salvation for his previous crimes.

  He didn’t die though, through some strange miracle he was the last they kept alive. The one who got away. And an even stranger miracle has sent him Raul, a shepherd and probably the only shepherd in the entire mountains who, instead of breaking his neck, took him to his tent, shared his food and tended his wounds. Manuel doesn’t believe in God. His parents raised him to believe in himself and the power of money, spirituality had no place at his home. Yet, Raul has been sent to him like a guardian angel. A beautiful angel, Manuel quietly acknowledges. He knows that it is not appropriate to think of another man like this, to be sitting here, craving the closeness, wanting nothing more than turning around and press his lips against those full, red lips, wrap his hands around the strong neck, run his fingers through the thick, black hair. Manuel shivers and bites his lip, needing a moment to calm his breathing and will his cock to obey. It feels like he’s under the other’s spell, like all the values and morals he’s become so very accustomed to, that kept him, even during war times, from joining in any of the filthy game some of his compatriots would engage in for release. Manuel has only ever jerked off secretly, by himself, with a picture of Carmen in his head – and now he’s sitting here, in another man’s lap and Carmen suddenly vanishes.

  ***

  At some point, he must have drifted away and when Raul wakes back up, it’s actually beginning to dawn outside already. For a few peaceful moments, lingering between sleep and wake, he doesn’t comprehend his surroundings and only feels the warmth of another human body next to him, lying pliantly against him and instinctively, Raul wraps himself closer around the sleeping form, buries his head in the blond hair and breathes in the scent, a mix of Raul’s detergent and the man’s musky skin. With his brain still mostly sleeping, his fingers subconsciously slide under the other’s shirt and trace over smooth skin and firm muscles. The whole world is perfect and comes to an almost complete halt – until a noise from the dogs outside wakes him completely and he realizes what he’s doing. He almost jumps, but because of the sleeping bag around them, he cannot really get away. In front of him, Manuel is beginning to stir and Raul suddenly feels very hot, his face in flames and he notices something between his legs that just can’t happen right now. Scrambling desperately, he tries to free himself, the blond man in front of him still half-asleep, blinking confusedly and Raul finally has his legs out and runs.

  Breathlessly, he leans against a near tree. With one arm against the trunk and his head buried, he uses frantic moves and without any further thoughts, brings himself to a painful climax. All the while, he is biting his lip to stifle the cry in his throat and praying that the other man doesn’t follow him to check what made him jump out like that. Finally, he pulls up his boxers and falls back first into the wet grass, still gasping for air. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before and the face he saw while leaning against that tree most definitely didn’t belong to Magdalena. Shame crawls up through his veins, making his skin itch, his cheeks burn and his stomach flip. It takes a moment before he trusts his legs enough to carry him back to the tent, stopping at the creek to splash water on his face and then taking a moment to pet the dogs. He is just turning around when Manuel comes outside, movements slow and stiff, face in a grimace of pain. Gorgeous. It’s the only word Raul remembers when the blond stands there, bare feet, clad in Raul’s clothes, hair still dirty and messy and framing the most beautiful, flushed face he’s ever seen. And he drowns a little when their eyes meet, a little more with each second their gazes stay locked. In Manuel’s eyes, he sees some of his own surprise and disbelief mirrored and for an instant, he wonders how much of his crazy desire might be mutual, before he reminds himself of the impossibility of it all.

  ”Good morning,” Manuel says softly, tentative smile around his lips looking breathtaking.

  ***

  ”Hey, how are you feeling?”

  ”I don’t know. Better. But I couldn’t take off the shirt myself if I wanted to.”

  Manuel shrugs, what else is there to say? He sure is in a fair bit of pain, but suddenly it seems worth it, because stepping out of that tent to look at this wonderful man, early rays of sun making his skin glow, dark hair framing a perfect face, that’s too good. In all its forbidden pleasure, it’s still simply perfect. Only that after getting up, the doubts are creeping in,
because who knows how long Raul will be putting up with him. Probably he will want to split paths as soon as possible. Manuel walks over to the creek, kneeling down with difficulty to wash his face. Behind him, he hears the rustling of the tent’s zipper and when he turns back around, Raul is sitting in front of it, holding a cigarette. Manuel stares at him with uncertainty until he pats the grass next to him, wordless invitation accepted without second guessing when Manuel drops to the floor.

  They share the cigarette in silence, each hanging after their own thoughts. Manuel cannot help the wistfulness seeping through him, because it feels like their goodbyes might be approaching.

  ”You sure you’re okay? You’re looking pretty sinister.”

  Raul sounds genuinely concerned and it sends a sting through Manuel’s guts.

  ”No. No, it’s okay. When are you moving up to your hut?”

  Manuel assumes there is a hut. All the shepherds have these, right?

  ”I was going to do it today, actually.”

  Manuel’s stomach twists and turns uncomfortably and he can’t really say anything now, so he just nods, tears prickling behind his closed eyes.

  ”I just… I think you’re not ready for the walk, so I guess we’ll wait at least until tomorrow. Not like anyone is waiting for me.”

  There’s an insecure chuckle in Raul’s voice through the last bit and Manuel sits there, frozen to the spot, incapable to grasp his own luck.

  ”We? You’re not leaving me here?”

  He croaks after a while, voice hoarse.

  ”Leave you behind? No, I wasn’t going to. I don’t think you’re fit to go back to your…well, cell or whatever you call yourselves and I doubt you have a clue where to find them. So I guess I’ll just take you along, at least until you’re able to dress yourself again.”