Chapter 7

A brief note: There is man-on-man physical intimacy that takes place in this chapter. There's nothing explicit; you don't need to worry yourselves that suddenly you're going to have to read about thrusting bosoms, or heaving loins, or girthy apparatus, and there's no real anatomy here. But there's some kissing and some nudity, and if you find that objectionable, you'll want to skip this chapter. I think it's done tastefully, though, and hope you agree.

Another brief note: I wrote myself into a corner here. I needed this scene to happen, because... well, this is what the characters tell me needed to happen. Boys. So horny all the time. ;)  But really, I could have plotted around it, but it didn't feel right.  BUT... if you've been reading along, you will have noticed by now, that Michael is 16. And that would cross some legal lines. (Regardless of state consent laws or Michael's extraordinary agency and maturity.)  And also, as I tried to make clear in book 2, Randall is not actually an ephebophile. His being disturbed by Michael's age was natural, real, and appropriate. But I wanted them to be in a place where we could bring them together into a place where Michael could experience a different sort of relationship than we've seen him in so far.

So there's been some changes made in previous chapters (2 & 4)  to bring Michael to an appropriate age, not just for this scene, but for some events to follow. If it were only impactful for this scene, honestly I would have cut the scene, but Michael being an adult, albeit a young one, will allow some agency in events to come that wouldn't normally be available to him. Right now it's a little hand-wavey, but there may come a point in time when I go back and fill in that detail, there may not. But have no doubt: Michael IS an older character than he was before he saw the Tribunal last, time HAS passed for him, and he has had appropriate experiences that have lent him some appropriate maturity to his age. Long story long, when this scene takes place, Michael is actually 19, and Randall is 22. I think most of us can agree that's not out of bounds.

 

Chapter 7

Randall and Michael were on the floor of Randall’s cabin. They’d given up trying to fit both of them and their wings in the small bunk, and they’d torn off the pillow and blanket, then raided Michael’s cabin for his, then they’d decided the steel floor was too difficult, and in a brief blaze of frustrated spellcraft, Michael had dropped both of their mattresses on the the floor, pushing the obstructing desk out into the hall.

Michael took one look at all the buttons around Randall’s wings, and started to cast a spell to get rid of them, but Randall grabbed his hand. “No. We’ve got time. Do it right.”  

A frustrated whine escaped Michael’s throat that made Randall laugh. “So impatient. You’d think it was your fi- oh my God. It’s your first time, isn’t it?”  

Michael blushed furiously and nodded.  Randall grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry. I promise not to be gentle.” Michael’s startled gulp was lost in the noise as Randall toppled him backward into their nest of mattresses, and kissed him soundly.

Randall pinned Michael’s wrists to the bed, not hard, but playfully, with enough force to tell him to stay still. Then started to undo the buttons on the front of Michael’s shirt, laughing softly, and kissing the smooth skin under where each button had been. He had to stop twice to pin Michael’s hands back out of the way. Apparently Michael ticklish...here...and oh. There. Yes, he was definitely ticklish there. Once he got all the front buttons done, he lifted his hips and flipped Michael over onto his stomach, then started the same process with the buttons on the back. Michael squirmed so much that he finally grabbed both of Michael’s hands and tucked them into the back of the belt of his kilt, laying his weight against them to keep them pinned. Michael struggled for a moment, and then as Randall leaned forward and grabbed his ear in his teeth, became still and let out a happy moan. “Be a good boy. You’ll get your turn soon,” Randall growled in his ear.  

Michael’s eyes got a little wide, but he nodded. Randall went back to the task at hand. It took several minutes to get Michael out of his shirt. He ran his hands over the lean muscle of Michael’s back and shoulders. They were strong from flying, rigid with tension...and anticipation. Randall thought about starting with giving Michael a massage, but he knew Michael would go right to sleep...and a massage wasn’t really what they were there for. Randall flipped Michael back over onto his back, hands still trapped in his belt, and kissed Michael deeply, soundly. Michael leaned into the kiss, giving back as good as he got, straining a little to get his hands back.  Randall pulled back a little and laughed. “Really want those hands don’t you?”

Michael nodded. “I want to touch you.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to touch. I promise. Trust me.”

Michael nodded again. Randall leaned into kiss him again. He was on his hands and knees above Michael, and, his hands not being occupied, took the opportunity to undo the belt to Michael’s kilt. The fabric was off of Michael in a flash, and Michael was left gasping for air, looking down at the top of Randall’s head as Randall found other things to do with his mouth.

Perhaps if Michael had been in control, it would have ended there, at least for a moment. Certainly Michael gave it his all, but Randall had taken control knowing exactly how much control to expect from a young man during his first time. Later, Michael would confess that he was happy with how long he lasted, but all he could think at the time was “Please. Now.” But Randall had plans that had nothing to do with being done just yet.

Michael had no idea how long that went on, but eventually, as Randall crawled his way back up the bed, Michael still ready, still striving, he noticed that somehow Randall had gotten rid of his own shirt. And his kilt was missing somewhere and...Oh. Oh boy.

Michael wasn’t particularly lusty. He’d never spent his time in the creche, or in the apprentice dorm crawling in and out of other apprentice’s beds like some boys. He hadn’t really spent that much time looking at the other boys, really, even when presented with the chance in the shower. And there’d been a dearth of girls, although, he would admit, he was partial to certain features of the female anatomy, but...

Seeing Randall, naked, perched on all fours above him, looking at his body, Michael knew. This was what he wanted. Randall’s body wasn’t lean like Michael’s. It had the bulk of a man who spent time at the gym. Light hair covered his torso like fur, narrowing to a line down his belly that led straight to...oh. Oh my. Michael caught his breath. “You’re...You’re...”

Randall grinned at him. “I’m?”

“Beautiful.”

Randall thanked him with a kiss. Then another. The he gently turned Michael over again, finally freeing his hands. As he covered them both with his wings and took hold of Michael’s earlobe in his teeth again, he gently pinned them to the mattress again.

It was hours later when Randall quietly wrapped himself in his kilt, and kissed Michael on his forehead, then rolled him onto his side to quiet his soft snores. He padded barefoot down the corridor to the mess hall and began to raid the fridge. Truth be told, he wasn’t at all startled when he closed the fridge door to find Brent grinning at him.

“Did you have fun?”

“A gentlemen never kisses and tells.”

“Lies! When you slept with Benny, junior year, I had to hear every detail. Besides, I don’t want details. But...did you? Is he ok? Are you?”

“You mean because of Mykken?”

“That and because you’re his first.”

“He’s fine. Better than fine. He was great. And ...I’m good, too.”

“Good.”

“Now, you’re sure you don’t want details? Because you know that cute little birthmark...”

Brent pretended to make gagging noises and shoved Randall playfully.

“Hush. That’s my adopted brother you’re talking about.”

“If you recall, I’ve met your other brother. He’s hot too. But his birthmark is somewhere different.” He winked at Brent with a gleam in his eye.”

“You didn’t!”

“Oh. I did. Or, well, he did really. That whole trip to the lake.”

“You slut!”

‘You’re just mad because it wasn’t you.”

They both looked at each other and laughed. Their “ewwwwwww” was almost simultaneous.

“So why didn’t you bring Michael for snacks?”

“He’s sleeping...and I don’t want him to get dressed yet.”

“Oh. Well.  Good for you.”

Randall smiled wickedly. “Oh. Hey. Did you bring any... you know?”

“Condoms or lube?”

Randall blushed. “Both.”

Brent looked at him frankly. “You didn’t bring any?”

Randall blushed brighter. “I did...but we sort of used it all.”

Brent looked at Randall, then down at his watch, then up at Randall again. “Right. He’s 19. Right. C’mon.”  He waited while Randall juggled food containers, then ducked into the cabin he shared with Paul and added a fair-sized box and a clear bottle to the stack. There was a squawk of protest from inside the room as Brent gave away the lube. Randall ignored it and beat a hasty retreat back to his cabin, hoping to get back before Michael woke up to find him gone.

He got back to find Michael sprawled carelessly on top of his wings, body on display, snoring softly. He considered for a moment letting him sleep, then thought better of it, put the food on the shelf by the door, and set the rest of his burdens by the mattress. Michael could sleep later. Right now, Randall had other plans.

He leaned over and breathed in Michael’s ear. “Round 2. This time you can use your hands.”  Michael’s eyes popped open instantly. Randall smiled as he wiggled out of his kilt. It was going to be a long night. But it was going to be a GOOD night.