Part III
Richard had told himself they were simply selecting each other
for roommates because it was the logical thing to do. Most of
the single guys in their line did it. None of them were home
for long enough periods to justify paying full pop on a flat.
When living with a teammate you didn't have massive security
problems if your roommate accidentally intercepted an important
call or poked into your business. It meant there was always
someone about to hang out with who didn't question your
peculiar hours or secretive attitude.
But then again, Sharpe doubted any of those guys were fucking
around with their mates on a regular basis. None of those guys
had Alexander Andrews sharing their flats though. It was easier
to contain an explosion with your bare hands than to say 'no'
to Andrews.
The kid was the ideal team-mate on the job; a stone cold
professional who was absolutely ruthless about accomplishing
the mission objective. As far as Richard could see he never
made any attempt to curry favouritism with their superiors and
he gave Sharpe full credit for any exceptional performance. If
they were out pub-crawling with some of the lads Andrews
handled his booze and women just like every other guy in the
squad, if not a little better. He didn't drink as much and the
ladies practically fell at the kid's feet.
Still, when he and Richard were alone together with the door
closed on the outside world Alexander was a force of nature,
primal and almost uncontrollable.
The biggest mistake however, Sharpe decided, was allowing what
should have been a 'buddy fuck' to grow into something more.
The first time they didn't withdraw to their separate rooms
after tangling the sheets was the beginning of a quick slide
down a slippery slope into dangerous territory.
So it was that Richard Sharpe found himself sitting on the
couch in their sparse living-room not two hours after returning
from an assignment that was nearly the death of both of them
when he should have been out prowling for a willing lady or two
to reaffirm life with. He sat because Andrews had said 'please'
with such an eager puppy look on his face.
Five minutes, he'd give the little brat five more minutes then
he was going skirt chasing.
Just as Richard was grabbing up his jacket to go out there was
a light knock at the door. Sharpe dropped the brown leather and
crossed the room. Nothing could have prepared him for what he
found on the other side of the door.
Catholic schoolgirls were not supposed to be six feet tall with
smouldering dark green eyes but the vision in Sharpe's hallway
contradicted that idea. The costume was as authentic as they
came; a navy jacket with a colourful crest on the breast, a
crisp white blouse, a plaid skirt, white socks and shiny
leather shoes.
"Alexis." The fingers that waved a sketchy hello were too thick
for a woman but the long painted nails were impeccable. "You
must be Richard. My cousin told me you'd be here."
Thankfully Andrews made no attempt to alter his usual husky
voice. Sharpe had too many memories of that voice whispering
intoxicating obscenities in his ear. He loved the kid's voice.
"So, you've the manners of a gutter whelp as well as the
pedigree. Don't bother to invite me in. I can deduce the path
myself. Blessed Mary." Alexander brushed past in a perfect
impersonation of how those uppity rich girls had treated
Richard all those years ago. Some, too sweet, floral perfume
tickled Sharpe's nose as they passed. The wig was a match for
Alexander's almost black brown hair and it was plaited into two
tidy pigtails. "So Richard?" Andrews settled on the couch,
minimising his disturbing height. "When do you expect my cousin
to wander his way….oh my." The kid's eyes suddenly widened as
he looked up at Sharpe, almost as if he were actually seeing
the older man for the first time. "Xander didn't tell me his
roommate was such an attractive man."
"Shite." Richard swung the door shut and tried to decide what
to do about his lover's bizarre behaviour. Damn, but the kid
didn't even come off as silly despite the get-up. He looked
good this way. The mascara and shadow made his eyes look even
more seductive than usual and his odd size was nicely balanced
by his natural poise.
He had confessed the old daydream to Andrews in an effort to
help pass the time a few weeks ago while pinned down with
nothing to do then promptly forgotten the incident in the rush
of action that had followed. Sharpe wasn't sure if he should
be regretting the casual mid-mission conversation that had
provoked this scenario or if he was grateful. "I weren't
expecting…" He let the sentence trail off unfinished.
"Neither was I, but aren't we the lucky pair." Alexander's legs
lifted to lie decoratively across the sofa. "Come sit with me, Richard."
A narrow space remained near the kid's leather
encased feet. "Xander mentioned that you were quite the
accomplished soldier. Did you just get in from a mission?"
"Yeah." Sharpe settled down beside his lover. "I'm kind of
surprised that Xander ain't roaring to go out." He let a tight
smile curve his mouth, relaxing into the game. "Gun-fights
usually get him hornier than an alley-cat and the bullets were
flying not six hours ago." Richard ran a finger up the pristine
white of Alexander's ankle sock. He couldn't help but notice
the kid hand shaved his legs for the part he was playing. "But
then he's probably fucking with someone right now." Sharpe used
the profanity on purpose and was pleased to see Andrews feign
an embarrassed blush.
"Richard Sharpe." Alex sat up. "You either mind your manners or
I'll tell my cousin what an absolute brute you are."
Richard's disappointment at loosing tactile contact was
tempered by the fact Alexander's uniform skirt was riding up
quite nicely. Unlike all those fussy schoolgirls from St.
Mary's, a convent school on the edge of his old neighbourhood,
Alex wasn't going to leave him with a deadly case of blue-
balls. "Your cousin..." Sharpe felt a laugh tickle the back of
his throat. "…is a slutty little whore who's very happy when I
behave like a brute and so are you, I expect."
Alexander blinked in surprise, his eyebrows lifting. Painted
lips parted creating too much of a temptation for Sharpe to
resist. The older man closed the distance between them and,
catching Alex by the neck, pulled him in for a kiss. The kid
squirmed and squeaked a protest as Richard's tongue invaded his
mouth. The hollow struggle contained not one ounce of the skill
Sharpe knew Andrews was capable of. Then there was the fact
that Alex never refused a kiss. It only took a few minutes of
searching lip contact before the kid practically melted into
Richard's hold.
A gentle shove to Alexander's left shoulder was all it took to
ease him sideways and onto his back. In no time flat they were
laid out on the couch necking like a couple of teenagers.
Richard could hardly believe it. Almost every detail of the
fantasy he had confided in Alexander was perfect down to the
cherry flavoured lipstick. The only glaring flaw was the stiff
erection under the plaid skirt. "Sweet baby." Sharpe's mouth
dragged down the kid's chin to his throat. One of his hands
yanked at the waist of Alex's blouse attempting to destroy the
snug tuck-in job. He had to know what was causing the slight
curve at Andrew's chest.
"Mark me, Richard." The request was hoarse. "I want a hickey to
show the girls at school. Please."
Sharpe kissed lower searching for just the right spot. He liked
the way the body under him shivered in eager anticipation. He
latched on just as the waistband of the skirt released. The
bottom button of the delicate shirt went flying across the room
in reaction to the abrupt pull.
Alexander's hips jerked and a squeak of delight escaped his
chest. "Oh Richard." His hand tightened its grip in the golden
blonde hair. "That feels so good." Long legs lifted to wrap
around Sharpe's hips and hold him tight, grinding
enthusiastically into his lover.
"Lemmie…" Richard's face pressed to the small 'V' of skin that
the blouse opening revealed while he continued to shove the
garment up from the bottom. "Jeez." Sharpe pulled away and up
to gaze at his lover. "I want…" He caught two handfuls of the
pale shirt and tore it open. The delicate bra underneath was
lightly padded and decorated with a tiny pink bow. The sight of
it, framed by the torn blouse and rumpled blazer jumped
Richard's pulse rate yet again.
"You look like a starving wolf." Alex made as if to close the
damaged garment.
"Don't." Sharpe commanded. "I want to look at you, Alexis." He
smiled at the stranger's name and reached down to trace the
kid's smeared lips. "Lick my fingers."
Alex's lashes lowered. A threat of disobedience tinted his
expression but still his tongue flicked out to dampen the pads
of the older man's fingers.
"There's my good girl." Richard praised. He tickled a wet touch
across Alexander's collarbone and down into the line of
artificial cleavage. Once it dried he caught at the bit of
strapping that connected the two cups and snapped it. "Pull
your skirt up. Show me what you've got under there."
Reluctantly Alexander released his hold on Richard and dropped
his hands to the hem of his kilt. He teased it up awkwardly
without dropping his legs from around Sharpe's hips so their
crotches continued to rub together at every twisting wiggle.
Gradually lace trimmed white panties were revealed to the older
man's gaze. The illusion was harder to hold at the sight of the
damp, straining fabric.
A laugh slipped out of Richard's at the preposterous scene they
must be presenting. "Slut. You're leaking." He accused in a
good-natured tease as he used one finger to trace the clearly
outlined erection.
Andrews hissed out an excited gasp and his hips bucked in
reaction. "I want you Dickin." Alex discarded his adopted
persona. "Fuck me. Do me now."
"What a filthy mouth you have little girl." Richard shoved at
Andrews' legs, pushing them open. "The nuns would take a willow
switch to your bottom if they heard that." He elaborated. "But
since we've neither of those…" Sharpe broke free of his lover's
hold, sat down and caught at the shoulder of Alex's blazer.
"I'll have to see to it myself." Andrews look of honest
surprise was satisfying. "Com'ere." Finding no resistance
Richard pulled the kid across his lap with laughable ease.
Alexander was heavier than he looked and long enough that his
feet touched one end of the sofa at the same time his head
touched the other. Still, it was easy to disregard the
incongruities and concentrate simply on the behind propped over
his lap, Sharpe concluded. He ran a reverent caress up the back
of one leg easing the concealing plaid away. The calluses on
his hand snagged lightly at the pure silk of the kid's panties.
Tipping his palm inward Richard used the narrow edge to follow
the hidden crevice between Alex's butt cheeks.
Andrews squirmed encouragement. "Dickin."
The first hard slap seemed to catch them both by surprise.
Alexander let out a yelp. Sharpe stared at his hand as if he
couldn't quite believe what he'd just done. "Richard." He corrected,
his voice steadier than his nerves. "My name is
Richard. No Dick. Not Dickin." He stroked the spot he'd just
smacked. "No cutsey pet names."
"I like Dickin." Alex declared.
The second blow was even harder than the first. The force of it
made Sharpe's palm tingle. "Richard." He repeated blandly.
Hooking a fingertip under the lacy band at one leg, Richard ran
a knuckle along soft skin. "You're going to have to say you
want this." The older man murmured. His conscience wouldn't
allow him to proceed without some kind of consent, although the
rock solid hard-on pressing down into his lap was a good sign.
Alexander shivered. The kid was hiding his face in between his
bent arms. The admission came in a halting whisper. "I get off
on it when you hurt me, Dickin. I want. Do it. Don't stop even
if I beg."
"You are seriously fucked-up, Xander." Richard moved his grip
to the waistband of the silken garment and yanked hard,
exposing slightly reddened skin. "But Lord help us both, I like
it." He pinched.
The kid groaned deep in his throat and lifted his ass higher in
invitation. Sharpe didn't even try to start slow and work his
way gradually to more punishing slaps. Over the last four
months he'd seen what kind of punishment Alex's body could
accept without flinching. Christ, the kid had taken an hour's
torture from a pair of pissed off terrorists and had shaken it
off fast enough to break into the bastards' computer and copy
the hard drive twenty minutes afterward. Richard put every bit
of arm strength he had into each swat.
Alexander's body started off rigidly tense. His only response
to the abuse was a set of low throaty noises at first. Sharpe's
hand was stinging before the younger man's stiff posture began
to desert him. At the first open-mouthed gasp Richard paused
and repeated his demand. "What's my name?"
"Fuck…Dickin, me lovely, don't you know?" The arrogance of the
remark was barely tainted by strain.
"Stubborn Bastard." Sharpe wished he'd thought to grab a prop.
It was obvious that Alexander's ass was tougher than his palm.
A stretching grab caught hold of the kid's ankle. "Gimmie
this." Richard wrenched one of the neat black shoes off his
lover, shifting it to hold it by the heel. The hard sole
provoked a satisfying yelp of pain when it smacked down. Sharpe
grinned fiercely and set himself to the task of painting Alex's
behind a nice even bright red. With every resounding slam the
kid's body sagged further and his vocalisations grew more
honest. They even took on an edge of protest that Sharpe
ignored.
"Stop, Dickin! Don't." Andrews struggled. "You're hurting me."
The older man simply tightened his jaw and kept one hand firmly
on the small of Alexander's back, holding him in place for the
harsh spanking until just the right phrase finally blurted out.
"RICHARD! PLEASE!" The kid's voice cracked on the plea,
threatening tears.
Sharpe dropped the shoe immediately. His fingers brushed the
damaged skin in front of him. "Shite. I'm sorry, Xander. I went
too far."
"No." Andrews protested in desperate undertone. "Never. This is
nothing." Alex squirmed frantically, turning over and sliding
off Richard's lap. "Strip." He demanded. "I'm dying. Fuck me."
Fingers grabbed at the fly of Sharpe's jeans, almost rending in
their hurry.
"I've got it." Sharpe slapped the frantic hands away for fear
of catching tender skin in the zipper. The opening was hard to
work. His erection was straining the fly out of shape.
"Sonnabitch." Alexander reached, tearing the bunched up panties
off himself then falling onto his back. "NOW!" He practically
screamed the word.
Richard toed off the shoes that were stalling out his attempt
to get out of his pants. "Yeah, yeah. Pushy bitch." He
grumbled, kicking off the last pant-leg. Sharpe turned back to
the sight of Andrews grabbing the backs of his own knees and
pulling himself up until he was bent almost in half. "Christ
yer a slut, Xander." Richard caught the lifted legs and hooked
them over his shoulders. Touching the kid's ass caused a hiss
of pain but no struggle. Sharpe pressed a thumb at the small
pucker between Alex's cheeks. "Yer already greased."
"Of course." Andrews' tone was almost savage. "Now fuck me damn
it. I can take it. Do me now."
Richard pressed the head of his cock to the burning hot ring
intending a slow steady ease in but the kid was having nothing
of that gentleness. With a breathtaking jerk of movement
Alexander impaled himself in one painful thrust startling a
scream of agony from himself.
"Stupid bloody fool." Sharpe seized his lover's hips for
balance, his blunt nails almost digging into the skin. If Alex
so much as breathed heavily Richard was going to lose his load.
"Be still." He warned.
"Damn." The kid's head thumped violently back against the
padded arm of the sofa. "That friggin hurts." His teeth bared
in something that might have been a grin. "S'good."
"Idiot." Sharpe accused. Richard held his body still but he
reached down with one hand to cup the back of his lover's
skull, barely halting another bruising head bang. "Don't
Xander." Sharpe tightened his grip. He'd seen the kid injure
himself before to take his mind off another less-controllable
pain. "Jest wait a bit. This part should never hurt."
Andrews' mouth opened as if to protest the statement but all
that emerged were a few ragged pants. Gradually the kid's body
relaxed under him, unclenching. Richard dared a shallow thrust
of his hips, testing how close he was and was pleased to
realise that he could hold back. Alex arched into the action
like a cat, growling his pleasure. His head rubbed into
Richard's hand demanding that the caress continue and leaving
Sharpe to balance with a single arm. Alexander's legs bent even
further on a back-pull to slip under Richard's arms and wrapped
around his lover's hips.
"Yer gonna have to stroke yerself, Xander baby. I can't do
yer." He told the other. "Bring yerself off. Lemmie see you do
it, Sweet thing."
"Ah! Dickin." Alexander whimpered, reaching down to wrap his
fingers around his weeping cock. "Keep talking."
"You want me to talk…or to fuck you through the couch?" Richard
punctuated the choice with an extra hard hook of his hips.
"Yes. Both. Everything." Hitching gasps for air separated the
words. "I want everything you've got." Andrews' fingers were a
blur of movement. His heels were digging into Sharpe's back
demanding something near brutality. "I want you to own me."
"Twisted slut." Richard accused breathlessly.
Alex almost laughed. "Your slut."
"Mine."
The word provoked an immediate response. Andrews pumping grasp
stilled. The kid emitted a groan that sounded as if it had come
from the depths of his soul and both his hands reached up to
drag Richard down against him. "Say it again."
"Mine." Sharpe repeated while straining to continue thrusting
despite the awkward position his lover had pulled him into.
"Mine." His lips branded the word right into the skin of
Alexander's throat.
Shudders began wracking Andrews' frame. His head pressed back
forcefully enough to pin Richard's hand in place and the kid's
voice threatened a full-throated scream. "Da. Da. Fuck.
Darlin'. M'God." Nails dug into Sharpe's scalp. "Fuck. I love
you. There's n'body like you, Dickin."
Richard felt the contractions start deep within his lover's
body, bearing painfully down on his cock. Alex was practically
crying now but the only thing Sharpe could think about was the
storm of sensation dragging at his own body. The last few
pushes were almost agony before the firestorm hit. Richard's
fingers clawed at the kid's hips holding him in place.
"Love you. Love you." Alexander was chanting the phrase now.
Sharpe collapsed heavily on the younger man, burying his face
in the rough navy blue fabric. No more sound escaped the kid
but Andrews' lips continued to move, brushing Richard's sweat
dampened hair. The fantasy was enveloping; the cloth against
his cheek, the scent of perfume, sweat and sex, the long nails
playing across his skin. It was all there. Sharpe's body was
heavy with contentment. He wiggled his hand free from behind
his lover's head so he could toy with one long tail of soft
hair. Their bodies gradually separated as both men straightened
out their legs but neither of them moved to wipe up the sticky
fluids between them.
"I really do love you, Dickin." Alex repeated in a quiet,
carefully controlled tone. He smiled against the crown of
Richard's head when the older man let out a put upon sigh at
the declaration. "Don't worry about it, Dickin. I don't expect
anything of you. I just do. It's no big thing."
"Xander, I wish you wouldn't. You and me, we're…" Sharpe floundered,
not able to pick out the right word. He couldn't
think of anyone he'd rather have at his back in a fire-fight
and off duty they got along well enough but they weren't
exactly friends. The kid was a killer in the sack but sex
wasn't love.
"Don't worry about it, me Darlin." Andrews skated his fingers
down Sharpe's spine. "We should tidy up and hit the pub. That
pretty Spanish munitions expert said she wanted to buy us some
beers."
"Teresa Moreno." Richard murmured into the lapel of Alex's
jacket, rubbing his cheek into the thick cloth. "I think she
fancies you, Xander. She was trying to get your phone number
from Dawson."
"OUR phone number. YOUR'S I suspect." Alexander corrected.
"She's too old for me anyhow." The kid teased. "You can have
her. I prefer blondes." He nuzzled, tickling Sharpe's scalp.
Richard planted a kiss on Andrews' chest then heaved himself
upright. His one hand trailed over the rumpled uniform as he
rose. "This was a kick. Thanks Xander."
"Anything you want, Dickin. I told you that."
Richard had to turn away from the intensity in his lover's dark
eyes. "We don't have to go out." He compromised, suspecting
that the kid would rather crawl into bed and have another go.
That idea had it's own merits; now he thought about it.
Alexander swung around, sitting up. He reached up and pulled
off the wig, which was now askew. "I'm fucking hyped. You
wouldn't be able to keep up with me tonight, Dickin me Darlin."
The kid squirmed out of the torn, stained outfit. "I'm gonna
find myself a couple of energetic girls to play with." He
tossed the clothing onto a chair without care as to how it look
to any guests they might have later. "Though I wouldn't say no
to a little deep throat action in the shower, Gorgeous." His
lips curved into an imp's smile.
"For you or me?" Richard teased, discarding what remained of
his own clothes just as haphazardly.
"Yes." The kid responded vaguely before disappearing down the
short hall that lead to the bedrooms and the loo.
So Alexander didn't think that Richard had the stamina to match
him tonight. Sharpe wasn't entirely sure whether he should take
up the challenge or let the dare slide and go out. On one hand
Andrews wasn't about to disappear any time soon, while Teresa,
the charming explosions expert was only on temporary loan to
their team. On the other, Richard wasn't sure he wanted to
waste the mood Alex was in on a couple of faceless pickups.
Then again there was a good chance that Sharpe wouldn't be able
to satisfy his lover tonight if Andrews was as charged up as
all that. Best he take what he wanted in the shower then look
for someone a little less exhausting to spend the entire night
with. Besides, the rest of the team was going to start
wondering about them if they didn't chase after some ladies
tonight. As much fun as the kid was Richard had no desire to
risk his promising position over the relationship. There was a
damned good chance he'd bee team leader on the next mission if
everything went the way it was supposed to.
Sharpe heard the sound of water pattering against the shower
curtain through the open bathroom door. In the meantime they
were still locked securely inside their own flat. Richard
headed down the hall. There was no sense in wasting the
opportunity awaiting him right now.
That's it. Milk and cookies time.
Sharpe's Scoundrel
Costume
Richard Sharpe realised the pile of mistakes he was amassing
was impressive. It had been less than sensible to have a sexual
encounter with a fellow trainee. Sharpe had compounded the
error by allowing the fling to turn into an affair. When he and
Andrews had been assigned to the same unit after being put into
the field they should have stepped back to a professional
distance, instead they had foolishly chosen to share a small
flat.
