Page 42 of These Old Lies

Ned was nowhere to be found.

Where the bugger was he?Charlie knew that Ned’s section was back from NoMan’s Land; he had heard the ambulances pull out and seen a few shivering figures by the fire that he recognized. So why hadn’t Ned found him yet?

He knew better to believe in prayer, but Charlie still sent up a few wishes that the tall man with the laughing hazel eyes might still be alive.

Fuck it. If Ned wasn’t going to find him, Charlie would go find Ned.

He started into the dressing station. The station was a chaos of moans, screams, and blood—the reality of the rumours that the Germans were encroaching. With a deep breath, Charlie started the process of looking at each bandaged figure until, finally, he saw a black-haired officer leaning over a stretcher.

Thank bloody Christ.

Then he was nearly shaking with rage. What was Ned playing at, coming back from some of the worst action in the last month and not telling Charlie he was alright? Charlie had a right, didn’t he? That was what that conversation on night duty had been all about, wasn’t it?

He had half a mind to walk up to Ned and tell him to fuck right off, making Charlie scared like that. Then Ned looked up from the stretcher.

He was covered in mud, uniform ripped and torn in too many places to count, cuts on his hands and face. His face was gaunt with exhaustion. But his eyes shook Charlie the most. Even when issuing orders, Ned’s eyes sparkled with something that let you know he thought the whole situation was ridiculous. Today, there was only stillness, barely a flicker of recognition when his gaze rested on Charlie.

Ned gently put down the hand he had been holding and walked over to Charlie. “Walk with me?” Ned’s voice was flat and quiet.

Charlie expected them to go to one of their normal hideaways, a storage shed, or a darkened corner, but Ned led him through a whole different set of trenches to the officers’ quarters. Ned pushed open a door and indicated that Charlie should follow him inside.

Charlie had never been inside an officer’s dugout before. It was nicer than the infantry’s with only two beds. But still a room dug out of Flemish mud. It was damp, dark, and smelled.

Charlie felt incredibly aware of his own presence, his own breathing. He wasn’t sure why Ned had brought him here, what he was supposed to do or say. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be here.

Then Ned’s lips were against his, kissing hard and urgently, daring Charlie to match his aggression. Charlie’s nerves vanished, replaced with a physical need that was so strong he felt it down to the soles of his feet. Together they bit and devoured, challenging each other to feel. Thighs, hips, chests, and shoulders all pressing together, so that Charlie could feel each of Ned’s shuddering breaths. Some small part of Charlie’s brain reminded him that this was dangerous, that they needed to be careful, but it was quickly silenced by the much, much larger part that needed to feel as much of Ned as possible.

Charlie kissed down Ned’s jaw to his neck, Ned’s stubble prickling against his lips. Charlie wanted more, more sensation, more Ned, more life. His hands were on Ned’s uniform, undoing buttons, grabbing for his belt. He stopped only because his arms were getting tangled in Ned’s as he also frantically tried to divest Charlie of his clothes.

Ned pulled Charlie towards one of the tiny camp beds and they managed to get off their shirts and trousers without actually ripping anything.

In the dark, they could have been anywhere, London, Cairo, Shanghai, the moon. The only anchor Charlie had to the world was the feeling of Ned’s hands on his back, his own across Ned’s chest, exploring every muscle, tendon, and crevice. Ned gasped and arched against Charlie as he ran a finger around his nipple.

“Fuck me, Charlie.”

The need vibrated through Charlie and straight to his cock with a force that made him groan. Fucking wasn’t something they had ever done before, but Charlie would be lying if he said that he hadn’t gotten himself off a fair few times imagining Ned on all fours. But he had always assumed it would be an act where one took pleasure from the other. He hadn’t thought it would be an act a man would actually want done to him.

Yet Ned was offering. Charlie grabbed the other man’s shoulders and rolled on top of him. “You know what to do?” He tried to sound sure of himself.

Ned leaned up and pulled Charlie back down towards his lips. “It’s not that technical. Hole. Cock. In and out. I assume you’ve fucked womenbefore.”

Charlie kissed him again. “Think you’re funny, do you?”

Ned reached out of the bed, Charlie would see a small tub of Vaseline in his hands. “I need to get something slippery first, to help.”

Charlie was operating on pure instinct now, informed by over a year of learning Ned’s body, learning about Ned. He put his hands on Ned’s, holding them in place, and whispered into his ear, “Tell me what to do.”

Ned froze for a moment and then slowly moved onto his side so that Charlie was curved round his back. “You need to make me ready.” Ned’s voice was shy, but he had moved his hips so that he was completely open to Charlie’s hands. Charlie started to move his hands further and further back with what felt like incredible boldness. Ned’s arse was like everything else about him, a perfect example of the form. When they were kissing, Charlie liked to dig his fingers into the muscle there, but tonight Charlie palmed the soft skin.

Charlie's fingers shook a little as he entered Ned, but then Ned moaned in a way that left no doubt that he was enjoying what Charlie was doing. Charlie continued, sliding in and out, doing as Ned had asked. At one point he caressed a hard knot and Ned clearly had to fight everything he had not to scream.

“Oh God, sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” Ned spit out the words as if it were all he could do to talk. “Do it again”.

Charlie had offered to get Ned ready, but he hadn’t expected to find this bit exciting. Feeling Ned writhe and whimper with pleasure around his fingers was making him harder than he had ever been. He wanted to expel every thought out of Ned’s mind that wasn’t Charlie’s hands, his lips, his cock. He wanted to make the laughter come back to Ned’s eyes.

“Please, Charlie.” Ned’s voice came out as a slightly desperate moan.