Page 109 of The Other Side

“Gods.” Osian moaned into the pillow and pushed back against Drum. Drum spread him open with his hands as he teased with his tongue, pushing it inside him, over and over again. Drum was clutching Osian’s hips so tightly, he’d likely leave bruises. He wanted to leave his mark on him, even though it wouldn’t last. Drum licked and circled and sucked, then put his finger inside Osian as well, while Osian wailed and moaned and whined, arching his back to push deeper onto Drum’s tongue and finger as well as frantically jerking himself off. All Drum could think about was making him as desperate as possible, making him want to return to him.

Drum’s cock was leaking more and more precome, and he shifted so he could drag the tip over Osian’s hole.

“Please… Please…” Osian pleaded.

The ache in Drum’s core told him he couldn’t wait much longer if he wanted to come inside him. He grabbed the lube from the side table, coated his cock, then eased two lubed fingers into Osian.

“Now!” Osian demanded. “Right now.” Then he made the T-rex sound.

Drum laughed. He covered Osian’s body with his own and positioned his cock at the entrance to his body. Drum slid his arms up Osian’s and entwined their fingers as he pushed. He slid straight in. One long smooth slide home.

“Fuuuuck,” Drum exhaled the word against Osian’s neck.

Osian turned his head and Drum pressed his mouth to Osian’s lips, their tongues tangling.

“Feels so good.” Osian broke off to grab air. “I love how you feel inside me.”

Drum moved then, dragging his cock through Osian’s slick heat before pushing forward. He wanted to be slow and gentle, but Osian rocked back into him hard. Drum shifted so that he was on his knees, then pulled Osian up onto his. The different angle must have hit Osian’s prostate because the cadence of his moans changed. Drum slipped his arms under Osian’s, held him to his chest and pounded into him faster and more firmly while Osian’s hand jerked frantically on his dick.

In a moment, with a loud cry, Osian came over his fingers, his chest and the sheet. Drum followed close behind.

They didn’t sleep much. But Drum didn’t care. He wanted every moment with Osian that he could get. They were showered and dressed when the knock came at the door. As pleased as he’d been that Amazon had delivered the paint early, he was far less pleased when yesterday’s order arrived early too.

Drum brought all the boxes into the cottage. “How are you going to carry all this? I’ll come with you to the gate.”

Osian shook his head. “I don’t want you to come. It’ll all fit in my bag.”

And when Drum watched him put into the bag far more than its capacity, he understood why.

“Could I slip in there as well?” Drum asked.

Osian pulled him into his arms. “I’ll come back.”

“I know.”

“I will.”

“I know.” Drum’s words were steady, but the feeling underneath wasn’t. “I put your phone on charge. You could leave it in a plastic bag at the gate, then when you come back, you can call me straightaway.”

Osian nodded.

“I don’t like it,” Drum whispered into Osian’s neck.

“I know, mo chuisle mo chro.”

“What does that mean? My little pain in the neck?”

“The beat of my heart.”

Drum held him tighter. But there were no more words to be said. Not even goodbye. Osian went into the garden and picked an armful of flowers, oxeye daisies, delphiniums, sweetpeas, yellow rattle, roses… ones that Drum didn’t know the name of. Drum didn’t watch him walk away. He thought he’d want to keep his eyes on him as long as he could, but it hurt too much. He put on his uniform, made sure the cottage was locked up tight, and went to work, reminding himself that time wasn’t more than a few blinks for Osian, but days for him.

Drum followed the tourist routes that day. His first stop was at a well-dressing in Hopewell. He had a vague recollection of seeing a well-dressing when he was boy. Maybe when he’d been in care prior to him being sent elsewhere. As he drove into the village, he could see parking was an issue. Unless he was responding to an incident, he had to adhere to local parking regulations like any other motorist, which meant he drove all the way through, parked on the very edge of the settlement and walked back.

Signs directed tourists up the hill and he turned that way to find the road was blocked. The vehicles of two drivers who’d had their eyes on the same parking spot were nose to nose and jamming up the street for everyone. Drum listened to the arguments about who’d arrived first, then who’d seen the spot first, and thought there were far worse things to get so het up about. While the two men yelled at each other, their wives joining in, another space opened up a few cars back. Drum had to persuade one line of cars to reverse and after several minutes of manoeuvring, calm was restored.

Drum finally made it to the well-dressing. Intricate mosaics of petals, seeds, moss and leaves had been pressed into clay on a frame around a water source to make a beautiful picture. The villagers had created a summer scene of the Peak District with animals, birds and flowers in a border around the edge. And faeries. Wow.

“Isn’t it just gorgeous,” said a lady next to him. American or Canadian.