Part VII
Home. Now there was a joke and a half. He hadn't lived in a place
as sparsely furnished as this since he was a teenager. The bed
was now a mattress on the floor, but at least it was a good one
and the single set of sheets he owned were brand new. No
lingering memories of Jane tainted his sleeping spot. Sharpe had
even abandoned the master bedroom in favour of what used to be
his office, so the walls wouldn't remind him of that bitch.
Richard had also managed to spring for a new kitchen table but he
was still using the card table chairs Ramona had forced upon him.
It was going to take some time, and few missions before he could
afford to replace the bulk of what his wife had taken when she'd
left him.
His stomach lurched, as it always did, when he thought about
coming home from Egypt to find his wife gone, their house
stripped bare, his investment portfolio liquidated and all his
bank accounts emptied. It amazed him that a woman he'd only been
with for a year could so completely destroy his life.
Jane had been complaining about his work since a month after the
wedding. She whined that he was gone too long at a time and that
he never called while he was in the field. Not that she minded
the healthy income his efforts brought home, Richard thought
cynically.
He had sent a solicitor on the bitch and her boyfriend, to
negotiate a divorce, but he didn't dare let his legal advisor get
nasty with the little tart. Fuck, if she decided she didn't even
want to grant him freedom there wasn't a lot Sharpe could do
about it. Jane knew too many secrets for him to piss her off. The
whore was likely going to keep everything she'd taken and get
even more on top of that. That left Richard in a tight squeeze.
He was having a hard time handling all the debts she'd piled up,
and here he was with nothing but his most recent paycheques in
the bank. And if that wasn't enough, Jane's brother and uncle
were causing Sharpe and the Essex no end of grief at Command over
the split. They believed every accusation of abuse that Jane had
flung at Richard and were blocking his attempts to rebuild in all
kinds of sly and roundabout ways.
As he pulled into his driveway, Sharpe considered for the
hundredth time giving up this damned house that Jane had insisted
on buying. He'd do it in a minute if he thought he could scramble
out from under the mortgage without losing his shirt in the deal.
Rent would be a damn sight easier to handle and a smaller place
wouldn't emphasis his lack of belongings quite so glaringly.
Maybe he should look about getting a flat in a building with a
security guard on the front door, Richard thought to himself as
he climbed out of his rental car. This neighbourhood was no prize
either. It appeared vagrants were now starting to hang around.
Someone was sitting on the stoop at the side of his house,
resting against the door.
Richard casually shifted his keys to his left hand and considered
how quickly he could have his gun out and aimed at the intruder.
He was just starting to reach for it when the huddled figure
stood up, to reveal Sharpe's, much missed, on again/off again
lover, Alexander. Christ it was good to see the younger man. This
last separation had stretched out over three months. "Xander,
baby." Richard stopped in place to stare at the other. "You look
like hell."
The young spy was unshaven, clothed in well-worn, ripped blue
denim, stained grey cotton and he wore a shoddy-looking pair of
work boots.
"I'm jet lagged beyond human endurance." Alex's voice was low and
husky. "Too many jobs, too little time. I had to take care of
something in Yorkshire earlier today. I've a night to spare
before I'm expected to catch a flight to New York. Do you mind,
Dickin?"
Richard's heart rate tripled and he wanted little more than to
shove his lover against the door and ravage that sweet mouth, but
he couldn't let the small disclosure slip by. "What were you
doing in Yorkshire, Xander?" The co-incidence of Alexander
visiting the area that Jane and her precious John 'fucking'
Rosendale had holed up in was unbelievable.
"I never know what to buy you, Dickin, me Darlin." The younger
man stretched, catlike. "And I've missed your birthday so many
times."
"Bloody Hell!" Sharpe threw a nervous glance up and down the
street then rushed forward to get the door open. "Why wait out
here on the stoop? You've broken in before. Someone could see
you." His key stubbornly refused to work on the first try. "What
the crud have you done, Xander?"
"You've been at Harper's place all day in full view." Alex
shrugged. "It's not gonna come bite you on the ass. It was
clean."
The door finally shoved inward. Richard grabbed the Russian by
the arm and dragged him into the darkness of the mostly empty
house. "What did you do?" He demanded again.
"I did you a favour and amused myself at the same time. Where's
the damage, Dickin?" Alex smirked and plastered himself to the
front of his lover, tipping his mouth as if waiting for a kiss.
When he didn't receive it as he expected Alex took a step
backwards. "What?"
"Exactly. Tell me exactly what you've done," Sharpe demanded.
"I never do anything." The beginning of a pout accompanied the
statement. "Someone, who isn't me, might have broken into
Rosendale manor, stolen the jewellery of the master's whore, and
killed lovely Jane and her pet, John."
"Jesus fucking Christ on a crutch! You stupid bugger! What were
you thinking?" Richard ranted. "And then you come here? BLOODY
HELL!"
"All the evidence has vanished. That 'someone' knows what he's
doing," the Russian explained in a coaxing tone, completely
baffled that his token of affection wasn't pleasing his lover.
"Do you like my new clothes? I got them from a thrift shop
downtown before I came here. Every bit of my gear disappeared
somewhere." A flash of teeth appeared briefly in the gloom. "I
did it for you, Dickin. I know money is tight for you right now
but I'm sure your property will be reverting back to you soon now
that your lawyer doesn't have to pull his punches."
"You killed my wife, Alexander. Now you stand there and expect me
to pleased." Sharpe's head shook in amazement. "You killed two
people. I'm a fucking Agent of the law. What do you expect of
me?"
What occurred next chilled Richard right down to his bones.
Alex's back straightened, his shoulders pulled back and his chin
lifted. The Russian's eyes went as hard as ice and his lashes
dropped slightly, shielding them. His lips narrowed out as they
pushed into a frown and his eyebrows lowered, a crease forming
between them. Never in all the years that he and Alex had been
conducting their intermittent affair had the younger man ever
turned that kind of expression of frosty distain towards Richard.
The last time Sharpe had seen Alex looking like this they had
been partners on the job and someone was about to die.
"Who the fuck do you think you're dealing with, Sharpe?" Alex
demanded in a whisper of stunned disbelief. "You aren't stupid.
You must know I don't go off and play bingo with little old
ladies when I'm not with you. I can't even tell you the number of
the people I've killed because I'd already stopped counting
before I even met you. I demolish corporations and kick at the
underpinnings of governments on a regular basis," stated Alex in
a flat tone. "If Nicola gave me the order I'd break into fucking
Buckingham palace and set a bomb that would destroy most of the
surrounding cities without questioning her. DO NOT think that
what you and I do when were together changes anything about my
basic nature."
Richard stared at his lover, his mouth not quite closing. "I know
in my head what you are," Sharpe began haltingly. "But you've
never brought it home with you. Not like this, Xander."
"Home?" Alex sucked in a breath so abrupt that it sounded as if
someone had punched him in the diaphragm. "This isn't my home.
This is your home. Your's and your woman's. The only HOME I ever
had in my whole pathetic life was the fucking cheap flat we
shared. The one you walked out of to marry that bitch, Teresa."
He screamed the last few words. His hands flexed as if he were
going to reach for a weapon. "Killing your bloody wife was one of
the most satisfying things I've ever done and if you can't deal
with it get the fuck out of my way and I guarantee you that
you'll never have to see me again."
Sharpe flinched, eyes wide. His hand shot out and seized hold of
Alex's arm in a death grip. "You're talking about Jane, right?"
he demanded. When the other didn't answer immediately Richard
grabbed his other arm and shook him as if he were an errant
child. "Are you talking about Jane?"
Alex's muscles bunched slightly as if he was about to break free
but he didn't fight against the action, instead he simply took
the abuse. "Yes." The word hissed out. His teeth were clenched to
keep them from rattling together. "Jane."
"Where were you when Teresa died?" A quaver of dread threaded
through Richard's question. "Did you kill Teresa? Tell me the
truth." Sharpe jerked him in place again even harder.
"I was in Germany." The Russian looked straight into his lover's
pale eyes. "I didn't kill your first wife. I never lie to you,
Dickin. We made a deal. I don't lie to you."
Richard's fingers were digging in, no doubt leaving bruises. He
drew Alex toward him, squeezing harder. "But you used to. You
used to lie to me all the time." Teeth bared. Their eyes locked.
Sharpe now suspected, in the back of his head, that his lover had
committed the crime but maybe if he could hear the Russian deny
the murder enough times Richard could convince himself to accept
that statement. The only alternatives were either arresting Alex
or sending him away forever. Sharpe couldn't bear to contemplate
either of those scenarios. The older man twisted slightly in
place so he could thump Alex's back against the frame of an
archway.
The Russian's head bounced off the hard wood and a tiny squeak of
protest finally escaped Alexander's lips.
"You jealous bitch! You hated her."
Green eyes widened alarmingly at Richard's choice of insults, and
a wracking tremor ran through him, but he still didn't try to
break away from the torment his lover was inflicting on his skin.
"I didn't kill Teresa." Alex repeated over and over with a
straight face. "I didn't kill her." He shivered as the rattling
shake from Richard came again three times as hard. The tension
was quickly dissolving from Alexander's frame as the glare and
the harsh treatment extended. "I didn't, I swear." He'd grown
limp under the abuse. "I love you, Dickin."
Richard snarled and dragged his lover into a kiss while
continuing the punishing squeeze of his hands on Alex's arms. He
forced the other's mouth open with his tongue and mashed their
open lips together, teeth clacking. His hands shifted. One of
them slide up to dig into the tender flesh below Alex's jaw while
his other arm wrapped around Alex's body holding it as close as
possible.
The younger man whimpered and ground into his lover. Supported by
the wall he could afford to lift one leg and hook it around
Richard, pulling him in tighter. An occasional word slipped out
between their savage kisses but they made very little sense.
Sharpe pulled back just far enough to allow them both to gasp
down some air and to hear what the other was saying. "What?"
Alex's requests were said in breathless gasps. "Hurt me. Fuck me.
Do me now." He squirmed, grinding himself up and down against
Richard's front. "I've been such a bad boy. Punish me, Dickin."
He coaxed. "I missed you so much. Anything you want, Lover. Come
on Baby, strap me."
He couldn't stop panting. "Bloody hell." It took every bit of
willpower Sharpe possessed to draw back from the shameless
invitation, but Richard released his lover and stepped away.
"Don't." The warning was gritted out. "I won't accept your whore
mask. I won't settle for your body anymore. I'm bloody tired of
that game. Settle down, Xander."
"But you started it!" Alex snarled out. "Put out, damn you." He
shivered and his gaze flashed about the darkened interior. "Hurt
me, you son of a bitch. Give me what I need or I'll go find
someone who can."
Richard held his silence for a little longer, judging the other.
"There isn't anyone else," he decided. "Or you wouldn't keep
risking so much to come back here. What would your boss do if she
found out about this, Xander, about us?" Sharpe leaned in and
stole a brushing kiss, refusing to go further even when Alex's
mouth opened in invitation. "What would Nicola Romanov do if she
found out how badly you had it for a British agent?"
Alex groaned and tried to pull his lover closer. "Don't."
"Tell me."
"She'd do all things I want you to do to me, but without letting
me enjoy it. Happy? I don't want to talk about work. Please."
"Com'ere." Sharpe drew the other man along into the kitchen since
it was the closest. "It's time, Sweet thing." Tugging at
Alexander's clothes assured that he had the Russian's full
attention. "Now is the perfect time. Jane's gone." That statement
felt uncomfortable but he pushed it out. "We're not kids anymore,
Xander."
"Speak for yourself, Dickin." Alex squirmed willingly out of his
shirt.
"Four bloody years difference. It may have mattered when we met,
Xander, but it's nothing anymore," Sharpe corrected him. "The
point... " He reached down to pop the button on his lover's jeans.
"... is. You're not twenty-two any more. It's time for you to come
in from the cold, while you're still young enough to start over."
"Don't wanna talk." Alex shoved out of his pants, and then
plastered himself to Richard's front. "Later, mon soldat d'or.
Fuck now, talk later."
"You... " The words gasped out between tastes of Alex's salty skin.
"... never... want... to... " Sharpe stepped them backwards, then lifted
his lover up and sat him on the edge of the table. He buried his
face in the curve of Alex's throat and feasted. "So beautiful."
Alex groaned when teeth accidentally scraped at his jugular and
his hips thrust in eagerness but Richard refused to get rough. He
pulled mindlessly at Sharpe's clothes, careless of fastenings or
tearing the material. "Skin." The demand was guttural. "Gimmie
skin," pleaded Alexander.
Richard cursed, pulling away far and just long enough to yank his
own clothes off and toss them aside. Alex lay back on the table,
kicked away his shoes and the tattered jeans that were tangled
around his ankles, then stretched provocatively. "How strong is
this table, Dickin?"
The response was a growl. Sharpe grabbed Alex by the hips and
tugged him until he was at the edge of the sturdy oak once more.
Richard knelt down, opened his mouth and swallowed his lover's
cock.
Alexander wailed and his legs wrapped up and over Sharpe's
shoulders. He made an aborted attempt to grab at his lover, and
then gave up in favour of fisting his hands and slamming them
down hard above his own head. "Da, moi lyubov."
Richard swallowed hard, attempting to force his lover into a
state of high arousal in the least amount of time. When he
pulled off to catch his breath momentarily, Sharpe filled in the
pause with a kiss on the inside of Alex's leg. His fingers
gripped the other man's pale skin and lifted Alex further off the
edge of the table, forcing the spy to rely on him even more for
support.
The strain on his body only made Xander look more beautiful to
Richard, delineating Alex's muscle tone and causing a sweat to
break out. Sharpe pulled in a lungful of air and dropped his
mouth once more earning another, louder cry of passion. Baring
his teeth slightly to sensitive skin rated more noise, as did
sliding one thumb into the crack of Alexander's ass.
"Take the edge off, Dickin." Alex's heels dug in. "Please."
Richard ignored him, pulling off with a sloppy lick and shifting
his mouth down to the other's balls. Sharpe coaxed them into
dropping back down with his lips and tongue then lowered Alex a
little.
Freed from supporting his lover, one of Richard's hands skimmed
across Alex's hip and onto his stomach, drifting across slick
skin. "What do you want, baby? Tell me what you want me to do to
you."
Alex's head lolled. "Let me come quick, Dickin. I make it up to
you right after. Please, me darling. Take the edge off then you
can see if this damned table with hold us both up." One hand
found enough direction to lift and grab a handful of pale blond
hair.
Resisting the tug, Sharpe began rolling one of Alex's nipples
between his thumb and finger. "No. You'll have to wait for me,"
stated Richard, denying Alex his request. "I want you desperate
when I slid in."
"I'm desperate now!" Legs tightened.
Richard bent over to drag his mouth from his lover's chin to just
above his cock and then back up again. "Not desperate enough," he
whispered before repeating the act. The temptation was there to
pinch or bite but Sharpe resisted it. Instead he showered Alex
with open mouth kisses on his skin and reverent caresses. Each
time it looked as if Alexander might lose it, Richard drew back
enough so that no contact was being made with Alex's leaking
erection. Sharpe treated his lover as if he were a feast laid on
the table.
"Liubovnik, pazhaluysta." The Russian writhed under the
attention. "I need more." His hips pumped, in search of more
direct contact. When that didn't work Alex's heels scrambled for
purchase on the table edge and he tipped his body up, offering
himself to Sharpe. "Dickin, please. Byastro."
"Shh, Xander. It's all right." One arm stretched up so Richard
could stroke Alex's face. "Not yet."
"You're trying to kill me!" Alex accused his lover. "This is just
another way to punish me." His fist slammed down on wood. "You
hate me."
"I love you," Sharpe shot back. "More than you know." A finger
slid into the other's tight body, causing an eager convulsion.
"It's time, Sweet thing." There was a powerful resolve
punctuating those few words, conveying their import. "It's time
for you to come home."
Alexei opened his mouth to protest but Richard's finger crooked
and he lost the complaint in a flush of sensation. It crackled
under his skin and made him cry out mindlessly. "Aaah! Dickin."
The finger pulled out and Alex protested loudly.
"Nearly there, Xander," Richard soothed. Unable to wait and
assured that his lover had come to him prepared, Sharpe lifted
Alex's legs out of way and lined his erection up to the opening.
"I know what you want." The pressure he used was steadily
unrelenting. "But you don't know what I need, Xander." He wrapped
his hand around his lover's cock, stroking it. "Will you give it
to me?"
"Anything you want." Alex promised carelessly as he had so many
times in the past. His body arched, attempting to rush the
penetration but Richard wouldn't allow it. "Anything! Just do
it."
"I want you to leave Nicola Romanov." Sharpe's voice was as
determined as his actions. "I want you to take a deal and tell
everything you know to Command." He shoved briefly to emphasis
the demand.
Alex seemed to be listening. Those demon-lit green eyes of his
had widened even more than being fucked would justify and his
head was shaking his denial. "I can't."
"You can, Xander." Sharpe eased the last couple of inches in. "We
can have this. We can have this every night, Baby, but only if
you'd just come clean." His breath was laboured as he tried to
keep control. "Come on, Sweet thing." Richard increased the bribe
exorbitantly. "No more women, I swear, Xander. If you do this
I'll never take another lover again. I'll change however I have
to. If it means quitting the service, I'll do it." Richard
reassured him.
"Ebat'-kopat'." His right arm moved to hide his face, covering
his eyes completely. "Not now. Don't do this to me. Why can't you
just fuck me?" Another breathless groan escaped Alex as Richard
withdrew and shoved back in. The noise turned into a wail of
disappointment when no further movement followed. "Dickin,
please."
"Turn Crown's evidence." Sharpe leaned over to shove the
concealing arm away. As he suspected, tears were beginning to
form in the corners of Alexander's tightly closed eyes. "You
can't keep doing what you do, Xander. I can't keep ignoring it.
Promise me you'll quit."
"BASTARD! Move." Alex's heels attempted to force Richard into
movement.
Richard stroked the man under him, trying to keep his attention
without giving Alexander enough to satisfy him even briefly.
"Command will give you immunity. They'll help you to disappear
once you testify. I'll go with you. The Orient. Australia.
Canada. You and me. Please, Xander. I can't keep on like this."
Sharpe couldn't resist, he had to feel another squeezing pull and
push. "You said anything, Sweet thing. I want everything."
"You're proposing." Alex let out a harsh bark of something
between laughter and pain. "You haven't even buried your second
wife and you wanna make me your third. Fucking bastard." He bore
down, making Richard moan in turn.
"If that's what it takes." Nails dragged down Alex's chest and
stomach, and then they circled his bobbing cock. "Promise me."
"Fuck me!" A screamed demand was Alexander's response.
Richard gave himself leave to move but kept his strokes maddenly
slow. "Promise me."
A flood of curses snarled out of Alexander. At least six
different languages were in the mixture.
"PROMISE!" Sharpe circled his thumb over the slick tip of his
lover's cock.
"Dickin, please. I can't."
"No." Richard gritted his teeth and withdrew all the way. He
leaned over Alex and whispered right against his plush lips.
"You'll have to go. I'll miss you, Xander, by all that's holy...
I'll miss you more than is sane, but if you won't promise me
this... don't come back this time. Ever."
"No, Richard, please don't."
Alex's grab was fended off. "Not unless you promise. Not unless
you're willing to stay forever." Sharpe backed up out of reach.
"You don't understand. I can't."
"You haven't even tried. Can't you even bloody try? That's what I
want. You keep swearing to give me anything. This is it, Xander.
Put up or get out," Sharpe shouted. "I can't keep doing this.
Please Baby. I love you."
Alexander sat up, pulling knees up to his chest and shivering in
distress. "Why couldn't you have asked at the start? I could have
done it back when we met. I was going to."
Xander's compliant hit it's mark. Richard was well aware how
painfully true it was. The fight that had erupted the afternoon
things had come to a screeching halt was forever burnt into his
memory. More than once Sharpe had cursed himself for being so
foolish back then. He hadn't properly valued what he had in front
of him. This was his second chance and Richard wasn't about to
let it slip away as well. "I'm asking now." Sharpe reached over
to run his fingers through sweaty dark hair. "Just promise you'll
try. I'll set it all up. The only thing you'll have to do is come
in when I say it's a go."
"I do love you, Dickin. You know I do. I've never loved anyone
more."
"Prove it to me, Sweet thing. Come and stay with me."
"If that's the only way." Alex's nod was the tiniest of
movements. "She's going to kill me, but if I have to die for you...
if that's what it takes, I'll do it."
Sharpe hissed out a sigh. "You're not going to die. You and I can
handle anything she throws at us." He reached over to catch
Alex's hand. "Come to the bedroom, Xander. It's not much, but
it's more than this." Richard hauled him upright and into an
embrace.
The trip to the room Sharpe had claimed as his new bedroom took
what felt like hours. They couldn't stop kissing or fondling each
other. Three times they ended up against a wall, necking like
teenagers and groping each other. Alex clung his lover, dragging
his mouth off of Richard's only to breath then diving in for
another soul deep kiss.
They almost fell over the mattress on the floor, not realising
they'd reached it until their feet found it. Sharpe had to pry
the Russian loose, pushing him away in order to convince Alex to
land on the cushioned surface.
"Don't make me keep waiting, Dickin," Alex pleaded, dragging the
other man down onto the makeshift bed with him. His hands were
shaking. "I can't take any more. It's been too long."
"No more teasing." Sharpe dropped down beside Alex in the tangle
of sheets. "Which way do you want it? You want to do me instead?
You choose."
Without hesitation Alex squirmed into a comfortable position,
spread his legs as far apart as possible, and planted his feet on
the mattress. "Fuck me, moi negodyaj. I adore getting fucked. I
told you that, right at the start. I love being under you. Do
me."
Sharpe grabbed a leg and lifted it. In only a few swift movements
he was once more deep inside Alexander. There was nothing on
earth like the feeling of being sheathed in his Xander. There
wasn't another man who could fire Richard's blood like this and
women had become nothing but lesser substitutes over the last few
years.
Sharpe shoved hard, pushing Alex across the unanchored mattress
with the force of his thrusts. Alex growled and his fingers dug
into his lover.
"Harder!" Alexander's voice sounded as if he were being
strangled. "God damned, motherfucking bastard! Make me feel it."
A huff of air was the only verbal response Richard could muster.
He put every bit of his energy into slamming their bodies
together as hard and as far as possible. Alex's head reached the
edge of the mattress and fell back with a hollow thump, but the
younger man's grip didn't loosen so Sharpe kept up the almost
brutal pace his Xander was demanding.
Alex's mouth opened but little sound escaped, just harsh panting
breaths. One of his hands released Richard's shoulder and moved
to pull at his own straining erection. His face turned away,
something that rarely happened when the made love, and a thin
steam of tears leaked from tightly closed eyes. Alex's lips
moved, but the words were mostly inaudible. The only one Sharpe
caught was 'die'.
"We're. Not. Going. To. Die." Richard managed to speak between
ragged gasps and violent thrusts. "Gonna. Live. Together. Bloody
hell." He was having trouble holding back. His orgasm was
building like a storm. "Now, Baby."
Alexander's shoulders slid off, hitting the floor. He screamed
and his hand flew.
Sharpe's thoughts splintered. His head threw back and his heart
raced. Unconsciousness threatened but he fought it with every bit
of strength he had left, wanting to ride the pleasure out to the
end. His body, however, collapsed within seconds of the end of
his orgasm. Richard slumped down half on top and half beside his
lover.
The pale chest under Sharpe's hand was shaking.
"It's going to work, Sweet thing," Richard promised. "I've tested
at this already. Command wants you. They'll give you a deal." He
kissed Xander's cheek, and then brushed his parted lips back to
Alex's ear. "I can have the deal in place within a month."
"If Nicki finds out..."
"She won't." Sharpe cut him off. "It's going to be all right,
Lover. You'll see. I love you, Xander. You'll see. Come on. Come
back up onto the bed." Their bodies had to separate to move but
he wrapped his arms around Alexander, holding him tight.
No argument came but it was a long time before the Russian's
shivers and tears were ended by exhaustion and sleep. Richard
stayed awake a long time wondering if he'd just lied to the most
important person in his life.
Victim of the Game
by CKing
A Token of Affection
The drive back to his place was weighted by silence. Hiring a
vehicle with a decent sound system would have increased the
price, Sharpe thought. He hated the hissing noise the cheap radio
in this car made, so he left it turned off. Still, tonight his
life wasn't half bad. He had a full belly, thanks to his first
officer and Harper's lovely wife. It seemed that lately, at least
twice a week, Patrick and Ramona had Richard Sharpe over to their
place for dinner. They had reasoned out that, between the
depression hanging over the Major and his severe lack of funds,
Richard certainly wasn't eating properly at home.
