An Ordinary Man | By : firefly124 Category: M through R > Miles Vorkosigan Saga Views: 3051 -:- 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. |
Standard disclaimer: this work is based on the Vorkosigan series by Lois McMaster Bujold. I don’t own the characters, nor am I making any money by writing about them.
Take that look of worry
I’m an ordinary man
They don’t tell me nothing
So I find out all I can
There’s a fire that’s been burning
Right outside my door
I can’t see but I feel it
And it helps to keep me warm
So I, I don’t mind
No I, I don’t mind
--Phil Collins, “Take Me Home”
The part of Ivan’s brain that could still form actual thoughts was wondering rather loudly what he thought he was doing. Why had he come home with Byerly? Why were they now necking furiously, the second they’d barely gotten inside his front door?style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Was he really drunk enough and desperate enough to be here? How far were they going to take this? And did he really mind? By found just the right spot on Ivan’s neck, and shorted out this round of second thoughts.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Ivan felt one hand slip down to cup his buttocks as another eased him out of his shirt. Almost reflexively, he removed Byerly’s as well.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Ivan could feel himself being steered slowly but steadily through the flat, as they left a trail of clothing to mark their passage.
God, what was he doing? They were in Byerly’s bedroom, now, having just bounced off the doorframe, and that realization brought him up short. Parts of him were thrilled, one in particular and quite evidently.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> But there was still a panicked corner of his brain spitting out a continual list of reasons this was a bad idea.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Perhaps they should have taken this a bit slower. Another bottle or two of wine might not be a bad idea. Not sufficiently convincing, apparently, as Ivan allowed himself to be backed towards the bed, the trail of clothing exhausted, until he had to either sit back or fall onto it. The feel of the soft bedcovers on his bare skin made him shiver.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Or perhaps that was something Byerly was causing. The man definitely knew how to kiss.
Ivan leaned into the embrace, savoring the novelty. By’s skin was much smoother than Ivan’s own, but still had things like hair in places none of Ivan’s other partners ever had. As he ran his hands along Byerly’s chest, he found that there were compensations for the lack of breasts. For one thing, he had a fair idea that if he handled these nipples the way he liked his own to be, he would not get a smack, a glare, or the cold shoulder for it. Turned out he was right, as By moaned softly into his mouth.
Then Ivan felt himself being pulled to the edge of the bed, and his mouth being reluctantly disengaged as By shifted to a kneeling position and brought his attention to Ivan’s chest in turn. Ivan sighed as his nipples were carefully bitten and tasted, and shivered as By stroked his thighs.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Was he really going to … yes, he really class=GramE>was. Ivan buried his hands in Byerly’s hair and moaned. The ever-fainter panicked part of his brain piped up to say that while this might not be so different than the same act with a woman, it was going to be quite different when it was his turn to do the same. Just then, By found a spot that Ivan had tried unsuccessfully to guide any number of women to, and Ivan decided he really didn’t care what that internal voice had to say.
Any remaining doubts fled as he felt a pleasantly wet finger explore his backside, and then press ever so slightly into him. He gasped and his grip in Byerly’s hair tightened. He was startled to feel him pull away, disengaging completely.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He opened his eyes to find they were face to face.
“You liked that?” Byerly asked, with no trace of his usual sardonic tone.
“God, yes,” Ivan breathed before he could even think. He felt a flush creep up his neck.
“Good,” was all class=GramE>By said, as he moved in for a kiss.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Ivan tried to encourage Byerly to go back to what he’d been doing, and instead found himself in an embrace very like a wrestling match. With a brief feeling of regret, he leapt into it with a will, despite wishing they could go back to what they’d been doing … or rather what Byerly had been doing … just a moment ago. But this was good, too, and now they were side by side on the bed. Ivan risked a glance downward, and marveled. Before he had time to think about it, he reached down to grasp, stroke, and explore. He was surprised to find Byerly as slick as he knew he must be, himself, and was rewarded with an urgent sound from the back of By’s throat.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> It took Byerly repeating himself for Ivan to realize there had been words in there. class=GramE>Just two. “Roll over.”
His body quivering, Ivan complied, though the room seemed to complete an extra rotation or two once he’d settled. He heard and felt Byerly get off the bed, and return. The finger that slipped into him this time was far more slippery than before, and Ivan moaned softly, clutching a pillow.
“You’re sure you like this?”
“God, yes,” Ivan repeated. “Please … don’t stop this time.” He moaned again as the finger became two, and eventually three. He would not have expected being stretched like this to feel so good.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> One or two of his more adventuresome girlfriends had pressed a fingertip inside, or perhaps just traced the outside, but nothing like this. Not even Lady … he really had better not think of her … him … whatever right now.
Then the fingers were gone, and Byerly was gripping his hips. Ivan knew a moment of returned panic, then yelped as he felt himself being split in two. Then nothing, no movement while his body adjusted to this new arrangement. The sound he made now was almost a whimper, as By said reassuring and completely undoable things like, “Relax.”style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Perhaps if they’d had more wine earlier, but it was a bit late for that, now.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> And surely the current situation was evidence that Ivan, at least, had had more than enough.
Inexplicably, after a few moments, he did find his body relaxing, and Byerly responded with slow, firm movements. There was something soothing about the rhythm of it, and Ivan sighed some odd mixture of relief and enjoyment. After a few moments and at some unspoken signal, they both began to move a bit more earnestly.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Ivan found himself being almost ground into the bedclothes, and was surprised to find that felt good, too.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> In fact, he soon found himself fast approaching the peak that had been in sight earlier, and when Byerly changed his angle just a bit, Ivan cried out as he felt himself explode into a million pieces, or at least onto the bedcover, then lay spent and quivering as By continued to seek, then found his own release in him.
Later, as they lay under the covers, Ivan had time to reflect. He looked at the sleeping face on his shoulder, and felt a fondness he would never have expected. He wondered somewhat muzzily if this would be the one-night stand he had expected, to the extent he had expected any of this. And as he wondered, he dozed, and finally slept.
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