Vasily turned to Mother, a smile playing around the edges of his mouth. “Are pigs in mud happy? Did someone ask them?”
Mother laughed. “Nothing happier than a pig in mud.” He gave into the urge to press a kiss to Vasily’s temple and added, “Except maybe me when I’m with you.”
Vasily’s breathing hitched and he turned to Mother, eyes wide. “Really?”
Mother’s heart clenched, and he was overwhelmed with a wave of affection for this strange, contradictory boy who he was now certain had stolen his heart. He drew him into an embrace and whispered into his ear. “Really, Vas. You’re—” How to tell Vasily what he meant, how Mother felt, without scaring him off?
He wanted to chase the uncertainty out of Vasily’s gaze once and for all, but his own feelings were so big that he was afraid to burden Vasily with the weight of them.
But when Vasily tilted his head up from where it was resting on Mother’s chest, he wore an expression of naked hope. “Yes?”
And how was Mother meant to hold back what he felt in the face of that?
“You’re it for me, lad,” he said, voice rough with emotion.
Vasily pressed a kiss to his lips. “Me too,” he said in the barest of whispers, and anything else he’d been going to say was lost because Mother couldn’t contain himself—he had to touch, taste, claim. He backed Vasily up against the side of Blackbird’s stall, the wood rough under his palms as he planted his hands on the wall and crowded in close, kissing Vasily like his life depended on it.
Vasily’s chest heaved and he opened his mouth to let Mother in, letting out tiny gasps as he grasped at Mother’s shirt, clutching fistfuls of fabric and kissing right back, desperate and hungry.
Heat gathered in Mother’s gut, the strength of the desire that surged through him catching him by surprise, just as it did every time.
How had he ever lived without this?
“Bryn,” Vasily gasped against his mouth. “Can I—” He brought his hands to Mother’s chest and pushed him backward, then slid to his knees, fumbling at the lacing of Mother’s trousers. His heart thundered in his chest at what Vasily was suggesting.
They were inpublic.
Well, an empty stable. Still, it definitely wasn’t somewhere the door could be closed and privacy guaranteed. Vasily gazed up at him, eyes wide and pleading. He looked so pretty, ready and willing there on his knees, that despite their location, Mother’s cock stiffened, throbbing with an urgency that refused to be denied.
He turned so his back was against the stall and they were at least hidden from view if anyone were to glance inside the door, and joined Vasily in tugging his trousers down his thighs. His cock sprang free of its confines and slapped against his belly, the tip already slick.
Vasily didn’t hesitate, and Mother had to slap a hand across his mouth to hold back the shout that erupted from him when Vasily leaned forward and swallowed his cock. The sudden wet heat and the resulting surge of pleasure had Mother letting out a low groan.
He clutched at Vasily’s hair, and Vasily glanced up from under long lashes and smiled around Mother’s cock. He slid his mouth farther down the shaft, teasing the length with his tongue in a way that made his nerves tingle and the sensations spiral, twisting and curling, into a single low, blooming thrum of heat deep in his belly that threatened to ignite at any second.
“Vas,” Mother panted, unable to stop his hips rocking forward, seeking more. His grip on Vasily’s hair tightened, and Vasily let out a pleased groan, his eyes fluttering closed.
Vasily, with his head thrown back, eyes closed, and his face a picture of bliss, was the most beautiful sight Mother had ever seen. Every thought flew out of his head as he rutted forward, lost to everything but the heat of Vasily’s mouth, the rasp of his tongue against silken skin, and the coiling want in his gut as Vasily licked and teased. Mother couldn’t have stopped the desperate whimpers coming out of his mouth if he’d wanted to.
Vasily chose that moment to slide a hand up the back of Mother’s thigh and slip it between his arse cheeks, dragging his thumb over his sensitive hole. The dry rasp was all it took to have Mother’s balls drawing up tight and white heat crackling down his spine, tightly coiled need unspooling as pleasure surged through him, sudden and overwhelming. His spine arched, and he grabbed Vasily’s head between his palms, holding him in place as he thrust forward one final time, spilling his release.
Vasily swallowed around his pulsing length, the constriction of his throat sending trails of pleasure dancing across Mother’s sensitive skin like fireflies lighting up the evening sky. Mother shuddered and loosened his grip in Vasily’s hair, running his fingers through the strands as he fought to catch his breath. “Gods alive, lad,” he panted out.
Vasily released Mother’s softening cock and gazed up at him. His lips were plump and red, his eyes dark with want, and Mother didn’t hesitate to drop to his knees beside him and pull him in for a kiss, heedless of the taste of himself that lingered on Vasily’s tongue.
With Vasily’s body a warm weight against his, Mother was desperate to touch him. He slipped his hands under Vasily’s shirt, skating his fingertips over his ribs and tracing his pecs, hungry for more of that warm, smooth skin against his palms.
Vasily groaned at the touch, a needy sound that Mother thought he might never get enough of. He wasted no time dragging Vasily’s trousers open and shoving them down, underwear and all. His cock sprang forth, twitching and straining against nothing, the head damp and flushed dark red. Knowing what Vasily liked, Mother licked his palm and wrapped a hand around the shaft, his grip firm. Vasily let out a broken whimper.
Mother didn’t tease, instead stroking him in a fast rhythm that had Vasily clutching at Mother’s shoulders hard enough that his fingertips turned white. He pushed up into the circle of Mother’s fist in a series of short, urgent thrusts before he doubled over, tensing. His cock spurted hard enough that it hit not only his stomach but went halfway up his chest. Mother stroked him through it, gentling his grip when Vasily shuddered and squirmed.
Burying his face in the crook of Mother’s neck, Vasily’s breath was warm against the skin of his collarbone as he let out a contented hum. Mother eased them down to a sitting position, nuzzling at Vasily’s throat and pressing soft kisses to the skin there while Vasily sprawled across his lap. He was aware that his bollocks were hanging out and that he was sitting in the dirt with a piece of straw jabbing him in the arse, but with Vasily lax and pliant in his arms, he found he didn’t much care.
He'd get up in a minute or so and find a cloth to wipe Vasily down. Then he’d dust his arse off, and they’d straighten their clothing and get to work.
But for now, he’d take a moment just to enjoy this.
* * *
