Kid Gloves

by Anna Martin

  “What happens if I take it off?” Finn asked.

  Dalton shrugged. “You’d have to start again, trying to get the nerves to align themselves with the magnetic points in the joints. It’s hard work. That’s why I told you that it takes weeks to acclimatize yourself to a new limb. You have to train yourself, you have to figure out what this strength is and how to use it. You will need to teach yourself how to write again, how to hold a bow and arrow, how to shoot accurately.”

  “Will you help me?”

  The words were out of Finn’s mouth before he could think on them. He wasn’t one to ask for assistance from anyone, he took pride in his self-sufficiency. But for this… for this he needed Dalton’s help. He wanted to learn, but more than that he wanted to exceed.

  “Of course,” Dalton said with a smile and let go of Finn’s arm.

  Finn would later wonder if the move was one he’d calculated and instructed his new hand to do on purpose, or if it was a decision that his subconscious made for him. Either way, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and touching, wondering if the dark brown leather was really as silky smooth as it looked.

  The sensation through these fingertips was dulled, and he’d already touched with one hand, and Dalton hadn’t flinched, so as an experiment, and nothing more, he reached out with his left hand too to compare the sensations.

  It was so warm.

  Finn wondered if the other man slept in the corset, if he lived with the leather wrapped around his waist.

  “No,” Dalton said.

  “I’m—I’m sorry?”

  “No, I take it off at night and tie myself into it again in the morning,” Dalton said. “You asked me if I sleep in it. I don’t.”

  Finn dropped both his hands. “That was uncalled for. I apologize.”

  With great certainty, Dalton took Finn’s wrists in his hands and guided them back to his own waist. “If I minded you touching, I would have stopped you,” he said.

  Emboldened, or maybe just determined to prove that he had nothing to prove, Finn cupped both his hands around Dalton’s waist and ran them up and down the soft leather, learning the textures with his new one and storing the memories for later comparison. His fingertips compared the ridges of the whalebones, then around the back to the rough laces.

  His hands worked higher, up and up until they were pressed against hot skin that was sheened with sweat. The corset ended just below Dalton’s nipples, and Finn explored those too, the tight pink nubs and how they hardened under his touch, the whorls of hair on the other man’s chest, the hard collarbones and strong shoulders.

  “This is… I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s sinful, it’s wicked….”

  “According to who?” Dalton said, his voice a low whisper, his lips only an inch away from Finn’s neck. “I gave you a hand, now I’m showing you how to use it. How to feel with it again.”

  “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” Finn said with a tiny sob.

  Dalton stepped back, aware that Finn’s hands still lingered on his waist, but not prepared to go any further while the young man was distressed. He was aware that his heart was thumping hard in his chest, aware that Finn’s probably was too. As far as Finn’s new hand was concerned, this was a good thing; it encouraged his body to accept this new addition. But the look of fear—that was not welcome.

  “You can leave now, if you want,” Dalton said gently. “Or you can stay. Your choice will have no bearing on my responsibility to you, to helping you recover. The mechanics are only the start.”

  “I don’t want to leave,” Finn said. His voice only wavered a tiny amount.

  “Would you like to go and lock the door, turn around the sign?” Dalton said. “I’d do it myself, but people tend to misunderstand why I wear this.”

  He gestured to his corset with a small, self-effacing smile, and Finn nodded. He forced himself to breathe deeply as he locked up the shop, aware that he had just closed up his only escape route, effectively trapping himself inside. He wondered if this was Dalton’s plan all along, and the arousal rushed out of his body.

  “Hey,” Dalton said softly, reaching out his hand as Finn hovered by the door. “It’s okay. I promise.”

  Finn took long strides forward (he was a soldier, after all, he was fearless) and slipped his hand into Dalton’s, surprised and pleased at how the warm, dry palm wrapped around the edges of his new mechanical hand.

  “I can feel things with it,” Finn said. “I can feel things again.”

  “Yes,” Dalton said simply.

  The staircase that led to Dalton’s private rooms was dark and narrow. There was only one distinct living space: at the front of the house, a small washing area, a bowl and jug under a mirror. At the back, away from the noise of the street, a low bed. It was homey, with a large chair, several books, and a desk, personal effects dotted around.

  “I don’t want to scare you,” Dalton said. “I know this is new to you.”

  Finn lifted his chin defiantly but said nothing, allowing his actions to speak for him.

  “I’ll remove your shirt,” Dalton continued. “You won’t have enough dexterity in your fingers to do it yourself yet.”

  “I dress and undress myself every day,” Finn said. “I can manage.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Let me do it because I want to, then?”

  Finn managed a terse nod and clenched his fingers by his sides as Dalton opened the few buttons and helped Finn lift it from his body.

  He had, of course, already seen the other man naked once before, but this time he felt like he was allowed to enjoy the sight. Dalton encouraged Finn’s hands back to his waist and leaned in, rising on his toes to brush a cautious kiss across the young man’s lips.

  Finn resisted, resisted, then finally gave in to the kiss, opening his lips and encouraging Dalton inside. His hands clenched at the leather of Dalton’s corset, kneading the deliciously soft material as they learned each other’s taste, how to drag each drop of pleasure from this act.

  “If you aren’t shy,” Dalton said, as he kissed over Finn’s neck and chest, “I can show you how to learn the strength in those fingers.”

  “I’m not shy,” Finn said. He hated feeling younger, more inexperienced than this other man, so wild and worldly and clever.

  “Come here, then.”

  They fell on to the low bed and quickly rolled to their sides, facing each other. Dalton’s gaze was hot as he looked up and down Finn’s seminaked body, only touching when Finn gave his silent assent. Dalton toed off his own boots, then reached for Finn’s, hesitating when the other man winced.

  “Can I take them off?” he asked.

  Finn nodded his agreement, then, feeling brave, offered an explanation. “It takes me a long time to put them back on again,” he said softly.

  “I can help.”

  “I can do it on my own,” Finn countered hotly.

  “That doesn’t mean that someone can’t help you from time to time.” Dalton gently stroked the soft skin over the tops of Finn’s feet: smooth, clean, free from any stray hairs. Finn moaned softly and fell back against Dalton’s pillows, his eyes shut, his hands resting on his chest. One olive-toned, the other shiny metal.

  Wanting to act quickly, before Finn got nervous again, Dalton made short work of the buttons that held up Finn’s trousers and tugged them down to expose his groin. As he expected, Finn sat up again, his cheeks blushing prettily.

  Silently, Dalton took Finn’s mechanical hand and placed it on his cock.

  “Touch it,” he encouraged. “Trust me. You will learn—very quickly—the delicacies of your grip.”

  Finn’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. His metal fingers wrapped around his cock and squeezed. He quickly gasped and pulled it away.

  “Too tight,” he murmured as Dalton gave a barking laugh.

  “I told you,” he said. “Try again.”

  Finn took his time exploring the rest of his body before moving back to his cock. His natural hand
stayed resting on his hipbone as the fingertips of his new hand gently skimmed up and down the length, not grabbing hold of it again, just touching.

  It was warm up here, the heat from the fire below rising through the chimney that the bed was pressed up against, and Dalton felt a light sweat break out on his back, under the tight corset. He stood and pushed his hair back over his shoulder. The bulge in his groin was clearly outlined through the thin fabric of his trousers, and his fingers went to the clasp, unashamed, and pushed them down to the floor.

  Finn’s eyes widened as he took in this new development. Dalton drank in the gaze and looked down upon himself too.

  Finally, Finn spoke. “Are those medical too?”

  Dalton shook his head. “No. They just feel nice.”

  Having no experience with delicate women’s stockings, Finn couldn’t comment. They covered Dalton’s legs from the tips of his toes to the crease of his groin; silky things that still showed the hair on Dalton’s legs and the smooth tips of his toenails. They were immaculate, no pulls in the fabric, and held at the top of the thigh with a tight ribbon.

  He wore no underwear, and his cock stood up proudly, not too long but a beautiful color, the skin pale and tip shiny and so pink, it was almost red.

  “Is the corset really to help your back?” Finn asked.

  Dalton cocked his head to one side as his hands roamed over his chest, pinched his nipples, and then ran flat palms down over the leather corset.

  “Mostly,” he said.

  “You look incredible.”

  Smiling, Dalton knelt back down on the bed and tugged Finn’s trousers the rest of the way off. Finn’s nerves seemed to be evaporating as his inexperience was weighed against Dalton’s unusual preferences, putting them on a strange level field.

  “Can I touch you?”

  Finn nodded. “Yes.”

  It had been a long time since Dalton’s hands had had the pleasure of touching a man other than himself, and he absorbed himself in the task, wanting to make it last. Finn’s body showed all the classic signs of being well looked after, despite his injury. His muscles were strong, his skin blemish free, apart from the marks that had been put there intentionally.

  His cock was hard and straight, thick, his testicles covered in dark hair. Despite his desire to linger over Finn’s body, Dalton couldn’t help but hone in on what he desired and took the end of the delicious cock in his mouth.

  Finn bucked. “Mother of God.”

  “Shh,” Dalton whispered, allowing the air from his calming hiss to fall on Finn’s now wet cock. He put a hand on Finn’s stomach, guided Finn’s left hand to the back of his own head, and cupped the heavy testicles in his hand.

  Finn grabbed on to the thick locks of Dalton’s hair and tugged gently as Dalton’s mouth moved slowly up and down his length. It was an indescribable feeling, better than anything he’d ever experienced on his own.

  Having been employed by Queen Victoria’s army for many years, Finn had heard stories about men who laid with other men while out defending her country. This act, he’d heard the other men talk of it, he knew of sex and how they would boast of the women they’d bought in brothels and what base acts those women had performed.

  Finn wasn’t interested in that. He wanted… a connection to someone, to experience these things as a result of mutual desire, not due to the exchange of a coin. This, he was sure, was that connection he had been seeking. Although he never imagined he would be seeking it with another man.

  Part of his mind was nervous at the thought of reciprocating, even as his body responded wildly to Dalton’s actions. His breathing was rough, haggard as he grasped at the edges of his control, desperate for release into the hot mouth that encased him, through those skilled fingers that still caressed his skin like it was silk.

  “Please,” Finn said, a harsh whisper. “Please.”

  “What do you want, sweet boy?” Dalton asked, his fingers slowing over Finn’s cock.

  “I don’t know,” he said. Then with a strangled moan. “Something. Please.”

  Dalton could give him that, trusting that youth and Finn’s overpowering sexual energy would eventually lead to him responding in kind, or maybe giving Dalton more.

  His mouth once again covered Finn’s cock, and he started sucking in earnest, working the swollen cock, tasting the delicious leak of another man’s pleasure against his tongue, desperate to feel that release that Finn had asked for so sweetly. Since Finn didn’t seem to mind his gentle tugs and caresses around his testicles, Dalton slipped a finger back further and pressed on the sensitive spot just behind.

  He wasn’t sure if it was this, or the combination of sensations, but Finn orgasmed with a sob, fingers tangled in Dalton’s hair, the other clenching helplessly at his side. Dalton swallowed rhythmically, slowly easing the pressure on the other man’s cock, waiting until the shuddering had subsided before pulling away, easing up the bed, and pulling a blanket over them both.

  “Are you okay?” Dalton inquired in a soft voice. Finn’s eyes were still screwed shut, his breathing just a little erratic.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “That was… incredible.”

  Dalton smiled and stroked Finn’s thick, dark hair back from his face. “I thought so too,” he said, then brushed a kiss over Finn’s forehead, another over his eyebrow, his cheek, and then his lips.

  “Can I do something for you?” Finn murmured, but his voice was already growing sleepy.

  “Not for now,” Dalton said and resumed playing with Finn’s hair. “Waiting makes it better in the end.”

  Finn hummed, the sound echoing low in his chest.

  “Sleep now, sweet boy,” Dalton whispered. Finn threw an arm over Dalton’s chest and did just that.

  THEY slept for a few hours, both waking to an initial wave of confusion at the presence of a warm body next to their own. Dalton felt he could have stayed in bed, Finn wrapped up in his arms all day, but nature called, and he rose, padding around his home in his stockinged feet.

  Finn was watching him as he poured two glasses of water and carried them over to the bed.

  “I should feed you,” he murmured as Finn propped himself up and drank greedily.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know. But if I don’t, you’ll have to leave, and I don’t want that.”

  Finn smiled, his eyes warm as he passed the now empty glass back. “I’ll stay. Don’t worry.”

  “How’s the hand feeling?”

  “Good,” Finn said, flexing the fingers. “A little strange, still.”

  “That’s to be expected. I have bread, and some meat and cheese. I’d need to go out for anything else.”

  “It sounds perfect.”

  Dalton insisted that Finn stay in bed while he prepared a king’s feast, finding a few apples to add to the plate alongside the other items. He had shopped in the market the previous morning, and the bread was still fresh, still good, and he found himself feeling decidedly hungry. From his propped-up position Finn chattered constantly as Dalton moved around the room, any shyness now gone as he looked shamelessly at Dalton’s body. Although his cock had deflated from its earlier erection, he felt it swell a little under Finn’s appreciative gaze.

  They ate in bed, laughing and touching as Dalton revealed a few more of the secrets of his trade, and Finn responded in kind, sharing stories of his life in the military. There was an easy friendship forming underneath the passionate love affair, and Dalton let himself both admire and adore the way Finn gestured emphatically with a slice of apple and giggled when he was teased.

  “You haven’t been with a man before,” Dalton said as they leaned against each other, the plate of food now clean. It was a pointless statement, but he wanted to hear Finn’s response.

  “No.”

  “You don’t seem afraid, though.”

  “I know what men do together,” Finn said, that hotness and pride shining through again. “I’ve heard things.”

  “An
d they don’t scare you?”

  “No,” he said again. “You have been gentle with me so far. There’s nothing to suggest you won’t continue doing so.”

  “Here,” Dalton said, turning his back on Finn. “Help me undo this?”

  Finn obliged, learning how to work his fingers in tandem to loosen the strings of the corset enough so that Dalton could lift it up over his head. He stretched, appreciating the freedom from the oppressive leather.

  “Are you going to take the stockings off too?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  Finn blushed. “I don’t mind. I think they look lovely on you.”

  “You’re very kind.”

  He removed them anyway, taking care to roll the delicate fabric down his legs without pulling it and stored them over the back of a chair, safe from harm. Back under the blankets, Finn immediately reached out to explore the newly exposed skin.

  “You say you know what men do together,” Dalton said, exploring the line of Finn’s jaw with his fingertips. “And I wonder what you expect I want of you.”

  “To… to… penetrate me?”

  “No,” Dalton said, following the line of his fingers with his lips now, along Finn’s mouth, and down his neck. “No, I want you to penetrate me.”

  “Oh.”

  The noise may have been in response to Dalton’s words, or that Dalton had discovered a sensitive point on Finn’s neck and was sucking and licking there.

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m not sure.” He pulled away from Dalton’s touch and smiled broadly. “Should we find out?”

  Dalton laughed, a rough, uninhibited sound, and crushed his mouth to Finn’s. Their kisses tasted of crisp apple and hot desire, of two men trying to crawl inside each other. As his hands grabbed at the well-defined curves of Dalton’s buttocks, Finn wondered what it would feel like to be with another man that way.

  Both youth and beauty were on Finn’s side, at least, he was able to recover an impressive erection a short time after reaching his last orgasm. His nerves seemed to have evaporated, and he credited this with the knowledge that there would be no pain in this experience, not for him, at least.