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An Ordinary Man	By : firefly124 Category: M through R > Miles Vorkosigan Saga Views: 3052 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Miles Vorkosigan Saga, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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He didn’t have much time to wonder, though.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Once Ivan had led Byerly into the room, he found himself caught in a bone-crunching embrace that let up only so By could strip away Ivan’s jacket and shirt as well as his own shirt.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Whatever restraint he’d been practicing before was clearly tossed into the wind, and Ivan found his shoulders, back, and chest being ruthlessly explored, as demanding kisses rained along his neck. Ivan gasped as Byerly grabbed his ass and pressed their hips together class=GramE>fiercely, making it abundantly clear that he was just as aroused as Ivan. Ivan responded in kind, and was startled when Byerly jumped and pulled back.
“What,” Ivan panted, “the hell?”
Byerly’s face was completely unreadable.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He shook his head as if to clear it, class=GramE>then advanced on Ivan again. This time Ivan held him back.
“No, wait a minute,” Ivan insisted.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “What the hell was that, and how is it even possible that you’re the one getting skittish?” That was a very good question, actually. For all that this was really the second time, Ivan thought he ought to be a bit more nervous considering all that he didn’t remember.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> When did this stop being something I had to do, something I needed to do so I could move past it, and become something I want to do?
“It was … an old reflex,” Byerly replied in a low voice, looking suddenly both much older and much younger somehow.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “Nothing to do with you, I’m not skittish, and for that matter,” he leered, looking rather more like himself again, “I’m thinking it’s about time we moved to the bed.”
Still somewhat bewildered, Ivan agreed.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He went to the bed, sat down, and pulled Byerly to sit next to him. This time as they resumed kissing, Ivan found himself becoming hyperalert to Byerly’s responses, trying carefully to avoid tripping any other “old reflexes.”style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He thought he had an idea what class=GramE>By was alluding to, but didn’t think he should press him on the subject. Not now, anyway.
Slowly he began to lose himself again in the sheer overwhelming wave of sensations. Byerly’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once, though his mouth traveled in a slow and deliberate progression. As he felt his trousers and briefs being removed, he reopened his eyes to watch with interest as By positioned himself between his legs. Ivan buried his hands in Byerly’s hair, and heard himself moan with pleasure.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He closed his eyes and marveled at class=GramE>By’s expertise with lips, tongue, and oh yes, hands.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He continued gently stroking Byerly’s hair, and when he felt as though things were nearing critical mass, he slipped a hand under By’s chin and guided him to come back up for a kiss.
“What the hell?” asked Byerly, echoing Ivan’s earlier class=GramE>protest.
“Not yet,” Ivan said, when he found his voice after a few breaths. He began to remove Byerly’s trousers, and caught a glint of understanding in his eyes.
Once the trousers and briefs were gone, he took a moment just to look at Byerly’s nude body. Without his usual loudly expensive clothes, he actually looked quite handsome. Ivan had never realized that those bright and expertly tailored suits were concealing such an amazingly chiseled body. He was slender, yes, but not skinny as his projected image suggested. Rather, his muscles corded tightly around his frame in an amazingly appealing fashion. Ivan traced a set of thigh muscles wonderingly, then moved on to more intimate explorations. He was rewarded with a soft moan. Encouraged, he moved to add mouth to hands. Byerly’s hands tightened on his shoulders briefly, and he wondered if By didn’t want this, either. He looked up at him, and instead surprised an open smile on his face.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He wasn’t sure if he should find that reassuring or unsettling, but it was clearly not an objection.
Entranced by Byerly’s musky scent, Ivan contemplated how to go about this. He struggled to recall and copy what others had done to him, including Byerly just now.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Finally he simply took him into his mouth and sucked lightly as By’s hips moved beneath him.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> After several minutes, he felt a hand slip under his chin, and guide him upwards. Looking into Byerly’s lust-glazed eyes, he realized he had been on the brink, too.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>
“You’re sure you want to do exactly what we did last week?” Byerly asked gruffly. Ivan could only nod. Silence for a moment.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “Where do you have the lubricant, then?”
“The what?” Ivan asked.
“Lubricant,” By repeated. Realization dawned across his features. “You didn’t … you don’t … angh!”
“What?” Ivan had no idea what Byerly was on about.
“Ivan, you i… you can’t just do … that,” Byerly explained impatiently, “without some kind of lotion, oil, something.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> It’d hurt like hell!”
“Oh.” class=GramE>Apparently one of the things that hadn’t made it into his memory.
“Do you have anything around here that fits that description?”
“Um.” Ivan levered himself up off the bed and ducked into the lav. He returned with a small bottle of skin conditioning oil and handed it over.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “Will this do?”
By examined it, and pronounced it acceptable.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Ivan lay back onto the bed next to him.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “This will work better if you lay on your stomach,” Byerly said.
Oh. He supposed that made sense. He rolled over and grabbed a pillow to prop under his chin. He felt rather at a loss for what to do with his hands, so he hugged the pillow.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Not very satisfactory, but By had moved out of reach, so what else was he supposed to do?style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He heard him pop the cap off the bottle.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> This is it, then. The moment of truth. He was surprised that what he felt next was a single finger reaching between his buttocks and spreading the oil around the rim of his opening.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He let out a sigh of pleasure that became a moan as the finger pressed into him.
“You like that?” Byerly asked.
“God, yes,” Ivan sighed. And he did, even if it was a bit uncomfortable at first when he added a second finger. But only for a moment, and then it just felt wonderful.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> As he gripped the pillow and looked at his headboard, though, he realized there was something missing.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> As good as it felt, this wasn’t like their earlier petting and pleasuring. It felt … almost clinical. He turned his head as far as his neck would allow and looked at Byerly.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “By?”
“What? class=GramE>Too much?”
“No. God, no,” Ivan replied. “But … well you said this way is easier, but … is it possible to do this face to face?”
The hungry look on Byerly’s face was all the answer he needed. He moved himself onto his back and Byerly took hold of his legs just beneath the knees and positioned them so that he could reach where he needed to. He poured more oil onto his hands, and pressed two fingers into Ivan again, then leaned forward to kiss him as his fingers moved slowly inside.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Ivan captured his tongue gleefully.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> This is more like it. He squeaked a bit when the two fingers became three, but once again the discomfort passed.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Byerly pulled back and handed Ivan the oil. “Now put some of it on me.”
Ivan poured a little into his hands, rubbed them together to warm it, then he stroked it onto Byerly carefully.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Byerly then leaned him back, repositioned his legs again, and centered himself, looking up at Ivan questioningly.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Ivan nodded, and tried not to brace himself as By took hold of his hips and pressed into him.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He yelped in startled pain.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He wasn’t exactly surprised it had hurt.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He was just … surprised that it hurt.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He was also surprised that By was now stroking him with an oil-slicked hand. Not particularly fast and not, he realized, intended to do anything but distract and possibly relax him. He sighed, and By leaned over him for a kiss, pressing a bit further inward in the process.
They stayed like that for a moment, kissing and stroking until Ivan’s body finally relaxed. Byerly wiped his hand on the bedcover and returned it to Ivan’s hip, then, and slowly seated himself fully inside. Ivan gasped, then leaned up for another kiss. As Byerly began moving inside him, Ivan found himself moaning his name, among other things, into that delightfully warm mouth. Some small, detached part of his mind noted that he usually very pointedly did not use names during sex.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He really didn’t care.
Their movements intensified as Ivan strove to meet Byerly’s thrusts and By tilted his hips looking for just the right angle. Ivan cried out as he felt Byerly rub against some amazingly sensitive spot deep inside him, and climaxed so explosively he thought he might pass out. Byerly joined him in a moment, and Ivan thrilled to the sounds of his climax and the feel of warmth spreading inside him.
By slipped out and stretched out next to him on the bed. Ivan grabbed the edge of the bedcover and yanked it to wrap around them both, before leaning in for a drowsy, sated kiss, so very different than the hungry ones they had shared before. Byerly was already dozing off, and Ivan looked at him in wonder and surprising fondness.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He guessed he had his answer.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Soon, he, too, succumbed, and slept.
* * *
When he awoke, Ivan was only moderately surprised and disappointed to find himself alone. He didn’t figure Byerly for being any more fond of morning-after conversations than he was, though he thought they might have managed to share a cup of coffee, at least. He went to the lav to freshen up, and then picked up his clothes from their various spots on the floor. He tossed most of them into the laundry bin for his cleaning service to deal with, but went to place the belt on its hook in the closet.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> As he did, he noticed something a bit different about it. He took a closer look, and discovered it was the same one he had inadvertently brought home from Byerly’s last week. He hung it up anyway, and smiled to himself.
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An Ordinary Man