The light was failing as he sat under the oak in the top field, the dullness of the day removing any hope of a decent sunset to watch. A rustle in the hedgerow drew his attention, and he looked up to see a head of shaggy blond hair appear as Mike pushed himself through the hedge.
“Hi. What you doing here?”
“Hi, Bobby,” said Mike, running his fingers through his hair to dislodge the twigs and dried leaves. “Your dad said he thought you’d be up here.” Mike landed next to him under the tree, sitting cross-legged and smiling. “I’ve been thinking….”
“Did it hurt?” The remark was automatic, a barb they’d shared countless times.
“More than it should’ve, that’s for sure.”
“And?”
“Tell me about your city,” said Mike.
“It’s nothing special. Too many people living in too small a space. Shops, bars, and clubs coexisting at different times of the day so there’s always something open, always something to do if you’re willing to look for it.”
“You’re not exactly selling it as one of the places to see before you die.”
Robert laughed, remembering the guidebook they’d flicked through together when they were younger, filled with places they’d planned to visit when life was simpler. “I guess one of its biggest draws is that I live there.”
“Modest as ever, I see. I hope you’ve warned the tourist board that your mere presence may cause an influx of visitors.”
“But you didn’t disagree,” replied Robert with a grin, hope swelling in his rib cage.
“Very true.”
Mike rearranged himself, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them close to his body. Robert spotted a rogue twig caught in Mike’s hair, just behind his ear, lodged there from Mike’s adventure through the hedgerow. Unthinkingly, he reached over and removed the twig, Mike leaning into his touch as he did so. The feel of Mike’s hair under his fingers brought a rush of happy memories, ones he hoped to add to.
“Remember that time where we raced to the top of Tyler’s Pike?” asked Mike.
“Winner got a blow job!”
Mike knocked him with his shoulder. “You pushed me over at the start so you’d win, and I still beat you.”
“I wasn’t the most coordinated back then,” admitted Robert. “Legs too long and spindly.”
“You were like an epileptic spider when we went ice skating that one time—you had more skin with bruises than without by the end of the night.”
“Yeah, I was always pretty clumsy. Good job I grew out of it.”
“I did wonder how you coped on a mission—I half suspected you would have to untangle yourself from the plants before you could begin rescuing fair maidens.”
Mike’s warmth at his side made Robert’s mind regress back to being a teenager, their first kiss, here in this field, the first exploration of each other’s bodies with fumbling fingers and fevered curiosity.
Robert didn’t know if it was just the sense of nostalgia caused by sitting under the tree as they’d done uncountable times when they were younger, but he really needed to know if he was reading things wrong. “Mike, can I ask you something?”
“I hope there’s never a time when you couldn’t, Bobby,” said Mike as he turned and smiled.
“It’s still there, isn’t it? I mean what’s between us—it’s not just me being optimistic.”
“I don’t think it ever went away, at least for me.” Mike reached over and took Bobby’s hand. “We just need to make sure we’re both in the right place. While I understand that you needed to get away then, that you needed to stand on your own feet, I wouldn’t survive you leaving me again.”
“It wasn’t you I was leaving.” Robert reached forward and cupped Mike’s cheek, his thumb stroking across Mike’s cheekbone. “I love you.”
He leaned in and brushed his lips against Mike’s, still not completely sure if Mike would kiss him back or push him away. Mike’s dry lips moved under his, welcoming the kiss. Robert had imagined far too many times what it would be like to kiss Mike again. The long hours after a rescue when his adrenaline rush wouldn’t allow him to settle were filled with visions of Mike.
The drumming started in his chest, followed by a wash of warmth that flowed through his upper body.
Robert cracked open one eye and saw the golden glow enveloping the hand that cupped Mike’s cheek. He should’ve realized this was what he needed to make him whole. Mike had been the trigger all those years ago, and now he was here again, making Robert complete.
He kissed Mike deeper this time. A need burned within him; the blood raced in his ears, and Robert groaned with the twin sensations of desire and his powers flooding his veins. The rush of his blood and the pounding of his heart made Robert’s world spin, but nothing could make him pull away from Mike. He slid his fingers into the soft hair at Mike’s nape, anchoring himself in the silky strands, keeping himself focused on the single most important thing in his life.
They pulled apart, panting. Robert could see Mike’s eyes were wide open and sparkling, the irises a sliver of blue as he caught his breath. It was like he’d been transported back in time, remembering the lazy afternoons spent exploring each other, the tentative touches that grew bolder with every passing day. He knew what Mike tasted like, knew the noises he made as he spiraled into climax, and he wanted to relive every single moment.
“How am I expected to function when you kiss me like that?” murmured Mike as he leaned forward and rested his head in the crook of Robert’s neck.
Automatically, Robert’s hand came up to stroke Mike’s hair, and he couldn’t resist burrowing his fingers into the curls. “Just you wait ’til I get you into bed.”
Mike chuckled. “We never used to wait to get to a bed.”
“I thought you went off the idea of outdoor sex after landing in a patch of stinging nettles when we jumped over that hedge to stop us from getting caught by your brother.”
“And I seem to remember you landing on top of me and not getting so much as a prickle!”
Robert grinned at the memory. “I promise no nettles. Although I did enjoy helping you apply the chamomile lotion.”
“Any excuse to get my clothes off.”
“No denials from me.”
Robert reached down and gently ran his hand across a patch of springy moss that nestled at the base of the tree, encouraging it to spread, to thicken and coat the ground as a lush blanket.
“What are you up to, Bobby?” asked Mike, pulling away slightly.
“Oh nothing, just thought I’d make us a bit more comfortable,” he said, trying to sound innocent, but Mike’s skeptical look made it clear he wasn’t buying it. Robert pushed Mike backward so he landed on the soft moss, and wormed his fingers into a patch of grass that sprouted skyward and surrounded them in an arc of green, like a swaying windbreaker. “No nettles now,” he said with a grin, leaning over Mike and enjoying the mixed expression of anticipation and nervousness that made Mike look even more attractive.
“What if someone comes?” asked Mike, but at the same time, he was pulling Robert toward him.
“Then they’ll get one hell of a show.”
Robert swooped down and kissed Mike, putting a stop to any further words of concern. Mike groaned into the kiss, and Robert slid his hand under Mike’s T-shirt, finding the soft downy hair that covered his belly. Eight years, eight wasted years where he’d fooled himself that he could fill the Mike-shaped hole in his life with nameless bodies. The warm skin beneath his hand triggered a flood of memories, which were brought into sharp focus as he deepened the kiss, a possessive show of what was once his and what he hoped would be again.
He sat back a moment, and Mike moaned in disappointment. “Impatient,” chided Robert as he shrugged off his denim jacket and pulled his T-shirt over his head.
Mike was quick to follow suit, and Robert drank in the sight of seeing Mike half-naked in front of him, with a prominent bulge in his jeans that mirrored Robert
’s own state of arousal. Robert ran his hand over Mike’s soft stomach, not fat by any stretch of the imagination, but Mike didn’t have the definition of his own torso, and Robert loved the contrast in their physiques. He unbuttoned Mike’s fly, releasing each button in turn before pulling down both the denim and Mike’s cotton boxers, releasing his very eager cock.
Seconds later, Robert’s own jeans and underwear were halfway down his thighs. He rolled onto his side and pulled Mike flush against him, working his hand between them and capturing both their cocks together and setting a steady rhythm.
“Fuck,” gasped Mike, before biting down onto Robert’s shoulder.
Robert growled as Mike’s teeth grazed his skin. Mike pressed against him, their bodies close together, making the world around them blur into nonexistence. Robert was vaguely aware of how the grass trembled in synch with Mike as he keened and shuddered, but he blanked out the purrs and hums from the tree, which appeared to be as delighted as Robert to have Mike back. He had plans for later, when they were in a bed and in private, but for now, all Robert wanted was to have Mike in his arms, to feel his release and rekindle one of a multitude of memories they’d laid down as teenagers.
Later, when there was a locked door and a bed with tangled sheets, he’d take his time, enjoy mapping out all the little changes the years had brought. But for now he wanted Mike to gasp and writhe with his release, wanted him to shudder as they both came together. He tightened his grip slightly and sped up his action, Mike growling his approval and trailing a line of bites across Robert’s shoulder.
He couldn’t last long, his powers racing through him as his orgasm hit, and Mike followed seconds later with an enthusiastic cry.
Robert swore he could feel Mike’s grin as he settled against his chest. And he knew he was wearing an identical one as he puffed out his cheeks and tried to regain his breath.
“You shouldn’t be so out of breath,” teased Mike. “You’re supposed to be a superhero.”
“Hey, I’ve been in hospital!”
“Excuses, excuses.”
Robert smirked, enjoying the sensation of Mike’s erratic breath ghosting across his skin. “You’re hardly demonstrating that you’re a paragon of health and vitality. Old Murdoch’s bulls breathed quieter than you.”
“Git!” Mike’s gentle punch to his side caught him by surprise. “Truth hurts.”
Robert huffed but couldn’t help the laugh that followed. “That it does.”
“Why do you do it?” asked Mike, his finger tracing a fresh scar on Robert’s collarbone.
“Eh?”
“The hero stuff. I mean there’s others out there—why do you choose to take the risk?”
Robert peered down at where Mike’s head had come to rest on his chest, not sure if he could give a suitable answer. “It’s what we do. I couldn’t imagine not doing it.”
“Your dad doesn’t.”
“He keeps the farm going, and that’s where everything’s from.”
Mike looked up. “I get that the farm and the land is where the magic lives that gives you your powers, but now you’ve come to terms with everything, couldn’t you help him rather than putting yourself in the firing line?”
“The farm will always be somewhere to retreat to, but it’s not where I see the future—our future. And I can’t not use my powers… so few of us are gifted with them it would be criminal not to do something. And staying here, while others were out saving people, would just seem wrong.”
Mike pushed himself up onto all fours, and Robert wondered what he was doing until Mike clambered over him, knees either side of his hips. “I see many sleepless nights in my future, and not the fun type I’d be looking forward to.”
Robert reached up and threaded his fingers into Mike’s hair “I’ll make it up to you—I promise.”
Part Five: Living Life
ONLY his reflexes saved Robert from ending flat on his face.
The contents of one of Mike’s boxes lay scattered across the hall floor, abandoned mid-emptying by the look of it. A trail of books and associated crap Mike had been unable to part with created a path from the front door of their new flat toward the living room.
He stooped to pick up a Superman figure that had only just survived Mike’s repeated attempts one summer holiday to prove that Superman wasn’t only susceptible to kryptonite; there were still traces of concrete on the Man of Steel’s plastic cape, and he was missing a foot.
Having returned from his early-morning shift, Robert was surprised to find Mike was out of bed.
Based on the complaints Mike had made the night before about the behavior of class 11C, he’d expected Mike to spend his Saturday morning sleeping off the aftermath of a double lesson with the hell spawn that haunted his Friday afternoons.
He picked up a Rubik’s cube, missing three squares, and Mike’s old fake ID that originally had been created for a game of private detectives and had miraculously, years later, helped them get their hands on a four pack of lager from a less than fussy local shop. He chuckled to himself at the memory: Mike’s clammy hand shaking as he handed it over when the clerk behind the counter had asked.
Robert put the items on a side table next to the telephone and an African violet; it shuddered happily as he stroked its velvety petals and fed it a few bursts of the energy it needed since it wasn’t anywhere near a window.
Wondering what had grabbed Mike’s attention so fully that he’d left a trail of childhood nostalgia in his wake, he toed off his trainers, kicking them into the corner of the hall, where a pile of shoes had begun to grow of its own accord, and headed into the living room.
The sight that met his eyes was certainly a most welcome one. Mike’s overlarge wireless headphones filtered out whatever he was listening to, but what Robert could tell was that the headphones and the silk gold cape were the only things his boyfriend was wearing as he swayed and gyrated in the middle of the living room. The sofa and armchair had been moved to make way for Mike’s dance floor, and Robert let his appreciative gaze travel up the bare legs, lingering on the occasional flash of buttock when exposed by a particularly impressive swing of the hips.
Robert glanced around the room, briefly wondering if they were lucky enough to have stashed some lube and condoms behind a cushion, but he remembered the last of those condoms had been used during a bet on which team would win a game show on Wednesday night. But determined to surprise Mike, he sneaked closer and grabbed Mike’s hips in a firm squeeze, causing Mike to squeal in a very unmanly way.
“Fucker!” Mike yelled, pulling the headphones off. “You could’ve warned me.”
Robert ignored him, turning Mike around in his arms. “What’s all this, then? Mild-mannered mathematics teacher by day, super stripper with hypnotic hips by night?”
Mike laughed, grabbing the edge of the cape and holding it out. “Don’t you recognize it?”
“Of course I remember it—Sprout Boy!”
Mike waggled his hips. “You’re just jealous you don’t have anything from your Artichoke Avenger costume anymore.”
“Green was never my color,” replied Robert with a laugh. “Well, not for wearing.”
“Then you’ll have to go without.”
“Then you’ll have to console me by letting me share your cape.” He ran his fingers up the side of Mike’s torso, being careful not to tickle Mike so much that he pulled back. “And it’s a little too short for you these days.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Mike, and kissed him quickly before darting away. “You didn’t seem to mind a moment ago.” Mike grabbed the edges of the cape before flinging his arms wide and then laughing manically and crossing his arms and covering his chest, which Robert thought was a terrible shame.
Robert sprang forward, grabbed Mike around the waist, and heaved him up over his shoulder.
“Oi, put me down!” Mike let out an undignified squawk as Robert smacked his arse.
“Every hero needs a damsel in distress to rescue.
”
Mike wriggled, but his lackluster attempts to escape made Robert laugh louder as they headed out of the living room and toward their bedroom. The bed mimicked the disarray of the rest of the room. The duvet was half hanging off the bed from where Mike had kicked it off and not been bothered to throw it back into place, and pillows lay wedged between the headboard and the mattress. Robert ignored it all; Mike’s natural messiness brought a chaotic element to his life that had been missing before, and he knew he never wanted to be without it again.
Robert pretended to swoop down in order to throw Mike onto the bed, but instead shifted Mike onto his other shoulder and enjoyed a leisurely stroke of his boyfriend’s bottom.
“I swear, Bobby Sawyer, if you don’t put me down right now, I won’t put out.”
Robert dropped Mike onto the bed. “Can’t have that!”
Mike lay sprawled across the dark sheets, his pale skin and blond hair in relief against the deep purple. His legs open and his cock hard, Mike made a glorious sight. Robert pulled his T-shirt off, removed his trousers and boxers, and with one last appreciative glance, climbed onto the bed. His hands roamed across Mike’s soft skin, over his belly, and down his thighs.
“Don’t tease, Bobby,” gasped Mike as Robert deliberately avoided his cock. “Been waiting for you to come home all morning.”
Robert reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a mangled tube of lube and a condom. He fumbled with the cap, which bounced off the bed and rolled out of sight, and he squeezed out a generous dollop of cool gel and spread it over his fingers.
Robert stole kisses as he prepared his lover, his fingers gently working Mike open until Mike’s writhing and insistent, impatient noises told Robert he was ready. He tore open the condom wrapper and rolled the condom over his cock, enjoying the slide of his own hand over his sensitive flesh.
Mike pulled him down, and they shared a sloppy, languid kiss as Robert slid into Mike. No matter how many times they did this, Robert felt the thrill of losing himself in Mike. The heat and passion mixing together as they gasped and panted, their bodies joined in a race to completion. The air was filled with moans and obscenities, and the slap of skin against skin as Mike met each thrust with a cant of his hips. The pace was frantic as they tumbled into their release, Robert shouting out in pleasure as he came, bringing Mike along in the rush of ecstasy.
Life in the Land Page 5