Part I
No one ever stood exactly level with another man. That was just the way
things were. Every one of his instructors could be slotted into a complex
command structure. It was only natural for Richard to examine every one of his
co-trainees and rank them in much the same fashion. It had only taken two days
of testing, pushing and careful interaction to discover that none of the young
men in his class were his equal. Admittedly they were all smart, fast and
dedicated but the hunger didn't burn like a shuttered flame inside any of them.
Every single one had symbolically bared his throat to the fierce blonde leader
and stepped back a comfortable distance. They wanted to be the best and
brightest. Richard Sharpe NEEDED to be first among the best.
Genuine competition had come only under the most improbable of circumstances.
It was unheard of for someone to join up a week into the complex training
session. It threw off the entire system confounding the instructors and the
trainees alike. That the kid could do such a thing with a smug smile and amused
eyes infuriated everyone. The kid was given no catch-up instructions but they
expected perfection. On the obstacle course, the artillery field and in the
classrooms they circled like sharks looking for a weakness only to be met with
confident perfection in all things. In the beginning the other trainees
resentfully ignored the newcomer whenever possible but he seemed blissfully
unconcerned at the exclusion.
It didn't take long at all for Richard Sharpe to come to the conclusion that
he hated Alexander Andrews. He hated that the kid was years younger than
everyone else in the sequestered band of soldiers was. He hated that Andrews'
slick black hair was skirting the edge of being too long but none of the
officers seemed to notice. He was absolutely furious that the newcomer was
breezing through deskwork and theory while Richard had to struggle to master the
blasted stuff. He couldn't even get back at the bastard during field exercises
either. The kid matched every record Sharpe drove himself into achieving.
Andrews assembled bombs, reassembled machine guns and ran the kilometre just as
quickly as Richard.
Worst of all was the one avenue the kid outshone Richard in. Within two weeks
of his arrival Andrews quickly graduated from the 'disruptive outsider' into
teacher's pet and everybody's number one choice to sit with in mess hall.
Richard didn't even know how to begin with that kind of social interaction. His
previous manner, heavy northern accent and taciturn personality were massive
barriers. Andrews, by contrast, had only the lightest lilt of an Irish accent.
His soft-spoken style invited the other person to share their life's story and
he displayed a self-deprecating streak that seemed to be compensating nicely for
the fact that the kid was so damned good at everything.
If all that weren't enough, the bastard was gorgeous. As much as it galled
Richard to admit to noticing it, Alexander Andrews was 'why aren't you on a
billboard?' drop-dead beautiful. He wasn't military recruiting poster handsome
so much as a pretty-boy model from a magazine that belonged under the mattress.
If the regulations weren't so rigid in the corps at least half the teaching
staff would have put the moves on Andrews by now. The mood inspired by those
same regulations and the overwhelming sense of being under constant surveillance
kept the trainees from acting on impulses concerning the newcomer as well. It
wasn't like they had much free time for that sort of thing anyway.
When they were allowed personal time, like on Sundays, every one of them
choose to spend it making an extra effort on their weakest areas. Considering
the small base was in the middle of sheep country with nothing closer than an
hour's car trip it only made sense for the stranded trainees to keep at their
demanding curriculum.
Sunday usually found Richard wrestling with a pile of thick textbooks in a
corner of the empty library. He got on all right with practical things like
instructions on reading blueprints or geography... and history was actually kind
of interesting. What refused to take root were ethics, law and things like
judging acceptable versus unacceptable losses. They had such an intangible
elusiveness.
Deep in contemplation of the rights of her Majesty's agents in other
countries Richard didn't pay any mind to the library door opening and closing.
It wasn't until someone leaned over his shoulder to peer at the book he held
that Richard bothered to check who had joined him in the silent room.
"That's deadly dry reading, Sharpe." Alexander Andrews murmured
right at the other man's ear. "You'd do better to find out how to avoid
foreign authorities altogether." A throaty chuckle was offered like a
secret. "Of course I doubt we've a textbook on that."
Richard shifted sideways to glare up at the intruder. He was not in the mood
to deal with that too-perfect bastard during what little time he could call his
own. "I'm busy." Sharpe kept the statement brief and blunt while he
glowered up at Andrews.
"It's Sunday." Alexander's hand reached up to rub his nose leaving
a smudge of wet dirt behind. "It's a beautiful day outside." He
grinned. "And I just beat your time on the back field course. Cooper stood
witness for me... though he's gone in for tea. Standing out there he got a bit
cool." Andrew's, by contrast, was still damp with sweat. His bangs were
almost dangling into his eyes.
The two young men exchanged challenging stares. Alexander's eyes glinted
bright green with mischief. Richard's smouldered darkly with barely contained
resentment.
"What the bloody hell do you want from me, Andrews?" His mouth was
a harsh line.
"I'm ever so bored." Came the unlikely announcement. "None of
this is a challenge. Not the instructors, not the work, not even... " He
didn't finish the sentence but instead his head cocked to one side. "You,
Richard Sharpe, appear to be the only challenge here."
Richard had a sudden urge to smack the amused smile right off the other man's
face. Special ops was everything that Sharpe wanted. It was the fast track route
to money, respect and control over his own destiny. "Are you insane?"
"No. Not technically." Andrews' head shook. "I'm hyped up... absolutely
flush with adrenaline." He laughed at some internal jest. "I just
wrenched my knee coming off the last net wall after breaking the camp record on
the wretched thing and it hurts like hell. I'm practically stranded in the
middle of nowhere. I miss my family. I'm bored out of my tree and I haven't
gotten laid in a fortnight. That's a record for me." He expounded. "So
I've been seriously hoping for a brawl to bleed off a little frustration but
you're simply not obliging me no matter how much I've pissed you off during the
last week."
Richard's pale brows pulled together and down above the line of his nose
increasing their usual arch even more. "You're right daft. Do you realise
what kind of trouble we would get into if they caught us brawling? You ain't
worth it."
"I beg to differ." Alexander shifted to lean over the older man
once more. He bent down, invading the blonde's personal space. "You are the
most tightly strung man I've met in years." He announced out of nowhere.
"Tell me Sharpe... what's the sense in being good at something if you don't
get a scrap of enjoyment out of the achievement?" The younger man pursed
his lips.
Richard's normal reaction to a man pulling a manoeuvre like this on him would
be to give the guy a quick shove backward but for some strange reason he didn't
want to push this one away. "We ain't here to have fun Andrews."
"All the more reason to invent our own amusements." His voice
dropped to a gravely whisper. "So you don't want to fight with me. All
right." The distance between their faces closed to a bare inch. The kid's
lips were almost touching Richard's. "How would you feel about some
completely mind-blowing sex on this table?" Reaching around Sharpe,
Alexander tapped the solid wood below the stacked books. They were breathing in
each other's air now.
Sweat, grime and attempted intimidation did not make for a combination
Richard usually went for. When given a choice he normally sought out full
figured, perfumed ladies to lay down on soft sheets but right now his body was
making it's own decision. Suddenly a lean, athletic male body, a snub,
dirt-covered nose and glittering feral green eyes seemed like a nice package
indeed. "Listen Andrews..."
"Xander... or Alex. Xander I think would be better just now. I'd like to
hear your accent wrap around that name." The other murmured in Richard's
ear before dragging his parted mouth forward along the line of the seated man's
jaw. "I like to hear you groan that name out as you come."
"Jeez Christ." Richard hissed. The kid's face was smooth from a
recent shave, which was nice since he wasn't trying for a kiss so much as
rubbing himself, like a cat, against Sharpe. Richard meant to voice an objection
then a warm, delicious weight settled onto his lap. As Alexander straddled him
the vague twitch of interest Richard had felt swelled to full on arousal. With
perfect precision the cleft of the kid's ass settled right on his growing
erection. "The door?" It wasn't the most intelligently phrased
question he'd ever asked but Alexander seemed to understand.
"I locked it behind me." The younger man squirmed slightly.
"What do you like, Richard? I know lots of remarkable tricks." One
hand lifted and his fingers threaded absently back through fine blonde hair. The
other traced down Sharpe's sideburn, across his right cheekbone then down his
stubbled jaw.
"Don't fuss on me." The delicate caress was batted away. "I
don't want any romantic crap from you. I don't even like you Andrews."
Rather than offence, the statement earned a dark smoky chuckle. "So... that's
a yes to a little down and dirty fucking and a no to meeting my Mum for Sunday
dinner. I can deal." Alexander slid slowly backwards and off Sharpe's lap.
He then gingerly eased the older man's legs apart and settled to his knees
between them. Hands kneaded hard muscles through drab fabric. Gradually his face
dropped to press into Richard's crotch and he inhaled deeply with a groan of
pleasure. "I love this smell."
"Get on with it." When Sharpe reached for his own zipper the
younger man's mouth opened and teeth threatened the taunt material.
"Do not... " the possible bite turned into a delicate, damp
mouthing. "... rush me. DICK."
"Don't." Richard grabbed a handful of slick inky hair and, using
all his willpower, he tipped that face up and away from his groin. "Don't
you get cute with me, Kid."
"Xander." Alexander corrected playfully despite how much his scalp
had to be hurting. "Call me Xander if you want me to blow you."
Fingers plucked encouragingly at the button above Richard's fly.
"Xander." Sharpe repeated after a pause. His grip eased.
"Thank you." Alexander flicked open the fastening and eased the
zipper down. He didn't watch what he was doing, choosing instead to study the
clean lines of his partner's face.
The effect of those too wide eyes gazing up through thick black lashes was
disturbing. Richard turned his own gaze on the distant door.
"Watch me, damn it." The harsh demand came just as strong fingers
peeled away the fabric of his pants and brushed Richard's cock through one
whisper thin layer of cotton. "I won't be just an anonymous wet hole for
you. Look at me or I'll stop." His tone lightened. "I perform so much
better for an audience." Damp heat suckled through the front of Richard's
underwear, soaking it.
His hips bucked involuntarily and Sharpe slouched on the hard wooden chair,
sliding a bit closer to the edge to earn more contact. He dragged his eyes back
to the other man's face. "Xander."
Andrews' smile widened wickedly at the acknowledgement and he very carefully
scraped the edges of his teeth along the outline of Richard's cockhead.
"Shite!" Sharpe's lips pulled back into a grimace but he continued
to stare down at his tormentor. "Get on with it already." The rumbled
words were too eager to be the order he had intended. There was no way the
intense heat pushing against his trapped erection was normal. The kid had to be
running a fever or something.
"Lift." Alexander's fingers were yanking at the bundled fabric
across Richard's hips. One abrupt tug pulled his trousers and underwear down as
soon as the older man obliged. They were frantically shoved down to just below
Richard's knees then Alexander lost interest in moving them any further. His
palms skated up the outside of Richard's long legs, ran quickly across narrow
hips, then pushed up under the older man's shirt.
Richard flinched when one of his vast assortment of bruises was touched but
he didn't protest. It was heady, the way the kid's fingertips seemed to be
almost worshipping the skin they traced across. Besides which, Andrews' greedy
mouth wasn't far behind his hands. Richard groaned as his newly freed cock was
bypassed completely. "What the fuck are you doing, Andrews?" Sharpe
demanded impatiently.
"I'll get you off, Handsome. Don't worry." Alexander hovered, not
quite sitting across Sharpe's bared upper legs.
"We're in the bloody library." Richard reminded the kid as fingers
now began unbuttoning his shirtfront. "We don't have time for a big
production."
"This isn't a big production." Alexander finished with the buttons.
His hands brushed over Sharpe's shoulders pushing it off and half way down his
back. "If you're still interested when we graduate from this
cakewalk." He nipped at Richard's jaw. "I'll take you to a hotel I
know of in London with beds the size of football fields." His body was
lowering again, at last. "I could happily spend two hours licking chocolate
sauce from every crease of your body." Alex silenced as his lips finally
touched Richard's straining erection.
Sharpe had to struggle slightly against his sleeves in order to curve one
hand around the back of the kid's skull. It wasn't until the first flush of
sensory pleasure faded that he realised that Alexander was barely making
contact. The kid's tongue was painting him with tiny kitten swipes. "Will
you quit fucking around." Sharpe pressed for more and felt the threat of
teeth once again. It was excruciating how slowly Xander progressed. First the
tongue-lashing increased in breadth and eagerness... then when Richard was ready
to scream in frustration the kid's mouth closed over the leaking head. Sharpe's
hips jerked fitfully forward but Alexander's weight held him from achieving much
movement. The slide in was tormenting but eventually, much to Richard's
surprise, Alex took him all the way down into his throat. Sharpe bit down on his
bottom lip to keep the wrenching moans the action caused from growing too loud.
Didn't it just figure that the bastard was too good to be true at this as well?
Just a few long glides into that clinging heat had him right on the edge. Arctic
cold stopped the orgasm tickling at the base of his balls.
The kid had the nerve to sit back on his heels and smirk up at Sharpe.
Richard made a clumsy grab that Alexander eluded by lifting and leaning in
towards his victim. "Trust me." The kid caught at the older man's
sagging collar, pushing the shirt even further back off his shoulders. With
fingers still scrabbling at the back of the garment, Alexander set to mapping
out the blonde's ears and throat with sucking kisses. His aim finally became
clear as the material of Richard's shirt pulled tight. Alex looped the shirt
over the back of the chair Sharpe was sitting on... loosely restraining Richard's
still sleeved arms.
The older man's body tensed, preparing to pull free of the binding but the
kid's fingers were swift to make soothing flutters across the tight shoulders.
"Easy. I'm not going to do anything you won't like. Its just part of the
game." Alexander slipped back down to the floor. He nuzzled apologetically,
pushing up Sharpe's T-shirt so he could rim out his shallow belly button.
Richard tugged experimentally at the bindings and decided that they wouldn't
hold against any serious effort to escape. So all the kid wanted him to do was
simply sit there and be ravished. It was oddly erotic; something he'd never had
the time, patience or the partner for in the past. If only they weren't in the
bloody base library with nothing but a twenty-year-old latch guarding their
privacy. Still, the danger inherent in the situation had its appeal as well.
Lord, but the kid was orally fixated. He was shoving his tongue into spots
Richard wasn't even sure he washed on a regular basis. Sharpe realised that he'd
slouched even more and Andrews was subtly tipping his hips upward. Richard felt
an uncontrollable shudder as the intimate probing edged deeper back and into the
crevice of his ass. A part of his brain was demanding that he protest the
intrusion but it felt so incredibly good. If his ankles weren't hobbled by his
pants Sharpe would be tempted to raise his legs and wrap them around the back of
the kid's neck to pull him in even tighter. "Shite... Xander... "
Richard jerked in surprise as the tongue penetrated him the moment after he
voiced the younger man's name. A reward, his sluggish brain provided, do it
again and see what happens. "Xander."
The kid groaned happily sending vibrations right into Richard's core.
Oh yeah, those were stars he was seeing right now. Just when he'd gathered
enough brain-cells together to wonder what had happened to the younger man's
hands... they returned to sent another jolt of pleasure through him. Alexander's
thumb began flickering over the tip of Sharpe's weeping cock spreading the
moisture down and around the stiff flesh. The kid's incredible mouth disappeared
for a brief flash and Richard heard him spit but before the action could be
questioned it was back slathering the older man's erection with saliva.
"Don't come. Not yet." Alex pulled away with a pleading whisper and
started to stand.
"No!" Richard tried to lunge forward, forgetting about the
impromptu bondage he was restrained with and the chair creaked.
"Bastard!" He hissed.
"Easy down, me darling." The kid pushed at Sharpe's chest and
lifted his leg to straddle the seated man.
When the hell had Andrews slipped out of his own pants, Richard wondered, as
warm, naked skin touched his own?
"Spit." Alexander held his hand flat before Sharpe's face. "I
don't have any lube." He explained solemnly, holding Richard's stare. As
soon as his hand was wet the kid reached down and slicked the blonde's cock up
even more. Alex rose just slightly and wiggled until the tip of Richard's rod
was flush against his hole. He sucked in a deep breath and began to sink down,
exhaling slowly. "I've missed this." His voice trembled and a squeak
escaped as they pushed flush against each other. "It's been too damn
long." Carefully keeping his seat, Alexander's arms reached down to yank
both his shirts over his head in one burst of motion. Dog tags clattered back
down against an almost hairless chest.
"Move, Xander. You've got to move." Richard whispered
encouragement; his hips were attempting to buck despite the weight holding them
down.
"Talk to me." Alexander's legs bunched and raised him up a few bare
inches. "Lie to me. Say anything. I won't hold you to it. Tell me you like
this. Christ, but you got such a deadly sexy voice." He dropped back down
with a shiver of pleasure. His head fell back exposing his throat.
"It's good. You've such a sweet, tight... gorgeous arse." Sharpe
floundered, simply groaning his appreciation. Talk, the kid wanted the
impossible. The exquisite heat and pressure were pulling all the blood away from
his brain and nothing coherent could possibly survive it. "I can't believe
you're doing this." Richard managed to say before another devastating rise
and fall disrupted him.
One of Alexander's arms rested on Sharpe's bared shoulder. Fingers wove into
the blonde hair at the nape of his neck, tugging for attention. "I want YOU
to kiss ME, please."
It seemed an almost absurdly elementary request considering that Richard had
his cock buried in the kid's ass until gradually the exact wording chipped it's
way into Richard's mind. Alexander's beautifully strained face was right there
before him, waiting, but Sharpe would have to be the one to close the distance.
Thinking made it even more difficult. He knew where that tongue had been just a
short time ago. Richard made himself move before he could have second thoughts.
He offered a simple pressing of lips, trying to get the measure of kissing
another man. Sharpe had screwed around with a few guys in his time but kissing
had never been much of a factor.
Alexander undulated instead of pumping himself. The movement was followed by
a faint breathy cry of pleasure that parted Alex's lips in silent invitation.
"You want more?" Richard bargained, surprising himself by managing
to assemble the bargain and the words to voice it. "Earn it, bitch. Fuck
yourself on me, Xander. Get me off if you want a proper kiss." He meant to
sound vicious but it came off as vaguely desperate to his own ears.
Alexander's teeth briefly bared in a snarl then he arched into movement. His
body rocked sinuously up and down. For the first time during the encounter those
glittering eyes drifted shut. The fingers behind Richard's neck dug in tightly
and the kid's other hand lifted to harshly pinch his own nipples.
It amazed Sharpe that the sight actually kicked his arousal up another few
notches. He watched the kid's blunt nails drag down, leaving faint red streaks
in their wake. Struggling with the tight squeeze between their bodies Alex
shoved his hand under Sharpe's sweat-clinging T-shirt and began snaking it up.
Against his thighs Richard felt the muscles in Alexander's legs flex and the
friction inside the kid's body increased to an almost painful intensity.
A strangled moan that might have been anything from despair to rapture broke
from the younger man's throat and his body spasmed fiercely. Between the burning
wet heat hitting his stomach and the convulsions the kid went into Richard was
dragged right after him into the maelstrom of orgasm. The makeshift restraints
were no match for the sensation and Sharpe's arms tore loose from his
tight-buttoned cuffs. As interesting as the half-hearted bondage had been... running
his hands up the kid's sweaty spine felt wonderful. How could someone who had
first run an obstacle course and then gone through all this still smell so
enticing?
Richard pulled the still shivering body tight against him and levered Alex's
mouth into place for searching kiss. The kid yielded so sweetly, clinging and
making soft gasping noises. He tasted good too, if a little salty from sweat he
had licked off of Richard's throat and shoulders. Sharpe gave himself up to the
greedy sucking of Alexander's lips for a few minutes then carefully broke off
the kiss to look at the other's flushed face. "That was... umm... fun."
One dark brow lifted slightly. "Fun? Yeah, I suppose." A corner of
Alex's mouth quirked. "But if you ever call me 'bitch' again... I'll cut
your balls off and feed them to you." His ass briefly tightened in a sudden
painful pinch. "Got that DICK?"
"Yeah." Sharpe winced. "I don't call you bitch. You don't call
me Dick. Fair 'nough?"
"How about Dickin?" Alexander eased up and off. "Richard is
simply altogether too stuffy and I refuse to call a lover by his last name... that's
just ridiculous."
"I'm not your lover." Sharpe pushed the younger man backward so he
could reach for his crumpled trousers. "This was a passing fancy."
The kid heaved a sigh and grabbed after his own clothes. "You go ahead
and tell yourself that Dickin, me lovely." His lip curled at the grimy
state of his gear before he began pulling it back on. "But when you change
your mind... " His eyes sparkled. "I'm willing to play again, maybe on
the artillery range. I've always thought tumbling in the grass under the stars... whatever."
He trailed off under the force of Sharpe's frosty glare and concentrated on
getting dressed again. His shirts were inside out and one tangled in the other.
Sharpe sacrificed his own T-shirt to the task of cleaning himself off. He'd
rinse it out in the bathroom sink later. Narrowed eyes tried to covertly study
the young man beside him and find a sense of rationalism in this bizarre
rendezvous. Yes, the kid was attractive and he'd offered himself up in such a
way as to short circuit all of Richard's hesitations but didn't he dislike the
little bastard rather intensely?
"Oh come on." Alexander seemed to be reading the blonde's mind but
he was more likely picking up Richard's thoughts from his sour expression.
"It's not that bad. I'm actually quite pleasant to be around most of the
time. I was being obnoxious simply to provoke you." Came the explanation.
"How about we try simply eating at the same table tonight? I'll do my best
to be charming but you're free to ignore me completely. If we don't end up in a
fist-fight by the end of the meal we'll try something a bit more friendly?"
Alex smiled hopefully. "Please."
"I don't like you." Sharpe stated, wanting to make his position
clear from the onset.
"You don't know enough about me to dislike me properly. You're just in a
pissy mood because I'm something near competition in this little war-game grade
school. Look at it this way Dickin, me darlin'... if you fuck me into a coma on a
semi-regular basis my scores are bound to suffer and you'll be number one again.
How's that for incentive?"
"Don't call me Dickin. It's silly." Richard protested, but he
realised he didn't sound very convincing. "I'll eat dinner with you but I
reserve the right to bash your nose in if you get on my nerves." It was
such a ridiculously small nose for a soldier; the thing could only benefit from
a break or two.
"You're not going to regret this, Dickin." Alexander promised.
"At least not for a few years I hope." He added wistfully and headed
out of the room.
Richard considered sitting back down and returning to the studies that the
kid had interrupted but that kind of concentration was completely beyond him
right now. What he needed was a shower and a change of clothes. Sharpe lingered
long enough to move the chair he had been sitting on right next to the window
and cracking it open then he followed in Alexander's footsteps, wondering
vaguely if the kid was going to get cleaned up too... and kicking himself every
other step for that very thought.
So, whacha think, can I write NC-17 or should I go back to R. Sigh.
Oh, and just for reference sake for the people who don't want to be bothered
with reading the entire story that the letter reference was in but are curious... I
did give the impression that Alex and Sharpe had a series of fleeting but rather
torrid encounters over the next few years before something nasty happened to
separate them... Krycek is after all an international criminal and Sharpe is
British special ops... it just couldn't last.
Okay, milk and cookies time.
Sharpe's Scoundrel
A little training diversion
Richard Sharpe had never taken an easy path. No one had ever shown him such a
route. Ever since he was a kid he'd had to work hard and scrap harder to earn
everything from a decent toy in the Christmas charity box to the right to walk
down his own street unmolested. He had learned to take what he wanted then hold
tight against all comers. His basic military training confirmed his worldview,
as did his uphill struggle to be accepted as a special ops candidate.
