Page 66 of These Old Lies
Their lips almost touching, each knowing what was next, they paused for a breath as Ned’s eyes met Charlie’s, as if they were trying to test if this moment was real. Charlie grinned again and pulled Ned’s head towards his. Charlie’s lips were intoxicating and strong, and when Charlie pressed into Ned with a hint of aggression, they both groaned.
Their kisses deepened, expanded, became everything. Ned’s hands wrapped around Charlie’s back, relishing in the feel of his tightening muscles. They lingered, exploring, testing, teasing. Charlie’s hands found all the little sensitive places that delighted Ned, where his neck met his shoulder bones, the spot just under his hairline on the back of his neck that always made him shiver.
Charlie raised one of Ned’s hands to his mouth, lips dancing over his knuckles. “I’ve missed you so much. All these years.”
“Take me.” Ned was breathless with lust that this man could be his again.
For one, two, three beats, Charlie’s ribcage rose and fell against Ned’s, and then he slid off Ned’s lap to stand, discarding his clothes: shirt, belt, trousers, socks, undershirt, and finally his drawers.
Completely unselfconscious of his own body, his own hard cock, Charlie crawled up on the bed, nudging Ned to follow. He then slowly began to lift Ned’s shirt, kissing the exposed skin, tracing the marks of where his belt had pressed into his stomach during the day. As Charlie reached for Ned’s trousers, he smiled and said shyly, “I hope I still remember how to do this.”
“You haven’t forgotten a thing,” Ned whispered as Charlie’s fingerswrapped around his cock, and his eyes half closed with pleasure.
Charlie’s hands grew more confident, his rhythm more steady. Ned was somewhere between screaming and begging when Charlie leaned over to the side table and pulled out the Vaseline.
Knowing what was coming, Ned tried to force his body to relax. He had always liked this part, having fingers inside him, pleasure exploding from the inside out. He wanted this. He just needed to convince his body to agree.
“Ned?” Charlie hesitated when Ned’s body tensed.
“Just keep going,” Ned gritted out. Fuck. Why hadn’t he thought to prepare himself a bit?
Charlie frowned, although his fingers still kept their gentle touches, but Ned’s body seemed to be running in an opposite direction. He schooled his face to hide his discomfort, even as the panic began to grow in his chest. This evening had been so close to perfect, but what if they couldn’t fuck?
Charlie pulled up from where he had been kissing Ned’s chest and said, “You know, there is something I’ve fantasised a lot about doing over the years.”
“Lead the way.” Ned instantly relaxed, letting himself follow where Charlie took them.
Charlie leaned down to kiss him tenderly, lying on top of him, grinding their naked bodies together. He slipped easily between Ned’s thighs, and then with a wink that made him look decades younger, he thrust.
“Move with me,” Charlie whispered in his ear, and with an instinct all their own, Ned’s hips rose, matching his lover’s movements. If their past encounters had been petrol on fire, tonight was the slow burn of oak. They lingered, took moments to smile and stare into each other’s eyes.
Every part of Ned’s body was boiled down to the spot where their bodies connected. Ned felt the movement not just between his legs, but in his back, his hips, to his shoulders. Maybe less overwhelming than fucking, but with the lack of any discomfort, Ned could focus completely on being with Charlie.
“Jesus, Ned,” Charlie choked out. “You’re the most beautiful person I’veever seen.”
Sweat from Charlie’s brow hit Ned’s own sweat-soaked chest.
Someone moaned. Was that his voice? Or Charlie’s? Or both? Then Charlie was coming and so was he.
Afterward, Ned was dimly aware of Charlie cleaning them up, arranging them in bed so that Ned’s head rested on Charlie’s chest, pulling a cover over their tangled limbs with a gentle kiss on his forehead, and a whispered, “Sleep well, my love.”
With Charlie warm and cosy beside him, Ned followed the pull of sleep, whole and content.
23 Regrets
Amiens, Morning 30 July 1932 / Charlie
Charlie arrived at Ned’s hotel the next morning early enough to bribe Ned’s driver to find other ways to spend his day. Not that Charlie didn’t appreciate the luxury of being driven around, but he wanted privacy today. For Ned’s sake, he assured himself.
Ned slid gracefully into the passenger seat beside Charlie, roadmap already in hand. “No one would guess you are a respected father with that grin on your face.”
As revenge, Charlie put a bit of extra weight on the pedal as they sped out towards the main road. “Well, no one would guess you were only thirty-eight instead of sixty-eight with that scowl on your face. Plus, how are my children going to learn to misbehave properly if I don’t teach them?”
“Tell me all about them.”
Charlie adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, getting more comfortable with the vehicle’s rhythms as he also fell back into familiar patterns with Ned. “Asking a father about his children, you’re sure we’ve enough time?”
Frank and Ellie were the best parts of Charlie’s life, and being away from them for even a few days made his heart hurt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture he’d carried since leaving London.