Rumi and Shams III:  What a Bargain
by Merri-Todd Webster
(15 April 1999)

I would love to kiss you.
/The price of kissing is your life./

Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,
/What a bargain, let's buy it./

***

Kissing.

Early morning kissing.

Nothing in life was so fine as waking up in his sister's bed and
kissing Alex Krycek.

It was like being at a hotel, only better.  The firm futon mattress,
the comforter that was just heavy enough but not too heavy, and
Alex's mouth, a little dry, a little spicy, a little slack, and his
for the taking.

Jamie ran his hand down the other man's chest, never letting go of
his mouth, and found the heavy erection standing up between slim
strong thighs.  Alex moaned into Jamie's mouth.

Oh, that sounded good.  Making Alex moan.  Making him start to buck
and writhe.  Having the more experienced man at his mercy.  Alex had
taught Jamie pretty much everything he knew about kissing, and now
Jamie was teaching it back to him, with a little research and
development thrown in.

Jamie held on firmly to the long, straight shaft in his hand, and
Alex thrust and relaxed, thrust and relaxed, at the same time
sucking on the eager tongue that filled his mouth.  Slowly.  No
hurry.  And the light that filled the room was warm, hard, potent as
a man's erection.

Alex moaned.  Jamie moaned with him.  Now Alex moved fretfully,
tossing his arms, twisting his torso,  and Jamie let go and let the
other man turn away, roll onto his belly.  Alex shoved a pillow
under his hips and raised his ass meaningfully, a white fruit split
open to show a dark core.

Jamie swallowed, tasting Alex's kisses.  His fingers felt like
carrots as he jerked open the drawer and sought out the condoms and
lube.  This made his head spin, made his heart go wild, made his
soul dizzy.  Fucking Alex.  Fucking Alex.

One finger in his lover's ass, and the man was rolling his hips
against it like a wanton belly dancer.  Two fingers, and Jamie's
cock was dripping madly onto Alex's thigh.  Jamie delved in easily,
so easily, their bodies so used to each other, he was slicked and
Alex was slicked and this was great, but he needed more kissing.

He leaned forward over the other man's back, bit urgently at his
shoulder and neck.  Understanding, Alex arched up, twisted, and
arched again, like a serpent, to give Jamie his mouth.

Tongue and cock and ass and heartbeats, thundering heartbeats.  The
kiss broke as Alex sat up, now more or less on Jamie's lap, grinding
himself on the cock that was fucking him.

"If you don't touch my cock," he gasped, "I'll kill you."

And as Jamie curled his wide hand around his lover's erection, he
had a strange thought: that Alex might make a similar threat in
other circumstances and mean it quite literally.  That the man he
was fucking had killed people.  That the man who rode his cock, took
his thrusts, moved with him and demanded more, was, in fact, a
killer.  An assassin.  A thug.

And as he came inside his lover, growling, and jerking hard on Alex
to make sure that he came, too, he could only think that it didn't
matter.

Not as long as they could kiss.

***