by Becky Black
“And you,” Zach said. He smiled at her. “Since you were up all night listening to me yapping.”
“And staying awake through it took a heroic effort for sure,” she said. “I’ll organize it. You go to bed. You’re asleep on your feet. Everyone else, time to turn in. Let’s go.”
She started to hustle people into getting up, moving away from the fire, back to their tents, and taking volunteers for the first watch. Adam banked the campfire, then came back and took Zach’s arm, startling him. He had indeed begun to fall asleep on his feet.
“Time for bed.”
The wicked look in his eyes made Zach wake up a little bit.
* * * *
Two grown men trying to get out of their clothes in the cramped confines of the tent quickly became a slapstick comedy. Adam was surprised they didn’t bring the thing down around their ears, as both of them kicked the supporting poles several times. Zach, clearly exhausted and tightly wound with nerves, began to unravel a bit. He broke into a giggle Adam might have found delightful except for the edge of hysteria it carried. He took Zach’s arms after he’d struggled out of his shirt.
“Shh,” he said. “Let me get the rest for you.”
Zach stilled, his expression turning serious. “Okay.”
Adam left Zach’s T-shirt on. He’d be too cold without it. “I’ve zipped the two sleeping bags together, see?” he said as he undid Zach’s pants. “Makes one big one we can share. It’s warmer. That okay with you?”
“Of course.”
Adam had shared a doubled-up sleeping bag a few times, not always with a guy he was sleeping with—though in a couple of cases, that status had changed by the end of the night. It kept a body warm very effectively. But there were other ways to keep warm too. He felt the flush of heat sweeping over his body, down his arms and legs. Zach’s pale skin had started to go pink.
“I want to,” Zach said softly, “but I’m so tired. Better be quick.”
“Good idea.” Adam was tired too. “Let’s keep this simple.”
He pressed Zach back down on the opened sleeping bag and finished getting his pants off. White cotton briefs under them bulged impressively. He left those on and shed more of his clothes, keeping on socks, T-shirt, and his shorts.
“Let’s zip up and get cozy.”
In a moment, they were zipped inside the doubled bag.
“It is cozy,” Zach declared as he snuggled down into the insulated depths, closer to Adam, who leaned over and kissed him. Zach’s response had as much passion as that morning, despite his tiredness. He pulled Adam closer, half on top of him with an arm around his shoulders. He snaked his other arm between their bodies and slipped his hand inside Adam’s shorts to stroke his cock. Though his skin was flushed with excitement, his hand was still cold and made Adam gasp.
“Wait, wait.” Adam grabbed Zach’s hand and chafed it between his own, warming it up. “You’re chilly,” he said at Zach’s questioning look. “Nearly sent all the blood back to my brain. I’ve no use for it there right now.”
Zach laughed, pulled his hand free of Adam’s. “Oh, I thought you were trying to start a campfire.” He caressed Adam’s chest under his shirt, pushing it up to get at the skin, Adam’s nipples rising under his fingers. “Can I touch you again yet? Is my hand warm enough?”
“Do it. Please.” Zach didn’t hesitate, no time for that. He slid his hand back into Adam’s shorts and started stroking his erection. Adam bit his lip to stifle the moans, aware of other people not too far away and the less than soundproof nature of tents. He didn’t want to spend all day tomorrow getting knowing looks. People might guess what they were doing, but they didn’t need to hear it too. Or see it, he thought suddenly, realizing they still had their lantern on.
“Better turn the light off.”
“I want to see you,” Zach protested.
“You ever see a shadow-puppet show?”
Zach’s eyes widened. “Oh God.” He grabbed at the lantern, twisting around to pick it up and turn it off. In the sudden darkness, he scrambled back down into the sleeping bag and pulled Adam close again, sliding his hands around his waist, finding him instinctively. Adam felt his warm breath and opened his lips to welcome Zach when they found each other’s mouths.
How many others were making love in their tents? Despite the group’s good spirits so far, they were afraid. Adam knew what the fear led to. It had led to Zach practically jumping him that morning. It led to them taking this time to have sex, even while their bodies screamed for sleep. The fear led to this because it distracted you from it. Or it made you desperate to do this now in case you missed your chance and never had another. Adam wanted to take every chance to touch Zach and make him beg for more.
A twinge of pain from his back told Adam he was in the wrong position, his spine twisted. He wriggled around until they were lying on their sides, facing each other, bodies pressed together but not too close, giving their hands space to move. They shoved their shorts down out of the way. Keeping it simple, staying in a position where they wouldn’t knock the tent down, they stroked and caressed and rubbed each other. Both stayed quiet, panting with the pleasure and with the strain of keeping silent.
They rubbed faster, harder, pumping each other. Adam felt Zach’s thumb against his and realized he had his hand stretched around both their cocks. Adam did the same, and the two erections, slippery with precum, slid against each other, the hands enclosing them in a mutual frenzy. The scent of that, sharp, was like a tang on the air. Adam fancied he could taste it. Would again but not tonight. It mingled with the scent of sweat, older, from the climbing, and new, breaking from them at this moment. He tasted it on Zach’s skin. Salty, musky, so exciting to Adam. The primitive scent coming from such a smart, sophisticated man as Zach hinted at the passion that lay under the layers of civilization and academia. He licked Zach’s neck, which was rough with stubble already, and moved on to smoother, softer skin, behind his ear. Zach’s body jerked, thrusting against Adam.
“Yes.” Zach moaned the word out, bit down the sound, turned the rest into a whisper. “Oh yes, Adam, yes.”
Adam silenced the words with a kiss, devouring Zach’s passion, feeding on it. It gave him more strength than he ever knew he had. Strength to follow Zach up the mountain and help him in every way he needed.
Stars—more than lay between this planet and Earth—exploded in his mind. His cock pulsed, spurting, Zach’s doing the same, hard and slippery and coming together. Warm semen, his and Zach’s mixed, filled Adam’s hand. He moaned, his head resting against Zach’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck where it emerged from the edging of his T-shirt. He flicked his tongue over smooth, hot skin and rough, warm cotton.
He almost fell asleep like that, but Zach moved, pulling up his underwear, helping Adam with his. They’d be sticky in the morning, should clean up, but Adam fell asleep before he even completed the thought.
Chapter Twelve
“Rise and shine, boys. Daylight’s a wasting.”
Zach woke at the sound of Korrie’s voice outside their tent. Adam, squashed close against him, groaned and rolled onto his back.
“We’re awake,” Zach called.
“Speak for yourself,” Adam muttered.
Zach found the fastener for the sleeping bag and undid it. After a quick check to make sure his underwear was where it should be, he crawled to the flap of the tent and poked his head out. Morning sunlight made him squint.
“What time is it?” he asked Korrie.
“Five thirty. Like you ordered.” She looked as if she’d been up for a while already, dressed and sipping from a steaming mug. Older people were often early risers, Zach thought, remembering a vacation he’d spent at the home of his great-grandparents, and how he used to wake to hear them moving around at ridiculously early times. Sometimes he got up and enjoyed the precious extra time with them.
“Here,” Korrie continued, handing Zach a plastic tub with a lid and a long handle. “Some hot water for was
hing and shaving. In a couple of days, you’ll be ready to sell your soul for a proper shower.”
“I’m sure. Thank you, Professor, very kind. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
He ducked back inside with the tub, heavy with the water it held. Adam was leaning up on his elbow, rubbing a hand over sleepy eyes, then through his mussed hair. Even unshaven and rumpled from sleep he was handsome, but Zach felt certain the same couldn’t be said of himself. His hair stood out at crazy angles, full of static.
“Oh boy,” Adam muttered, looking at his watch. “Five thirty? Why did I agree to five thirty?”
“Hot water,” Zach said, indicating the tub and taking off the lid. Steam rose from inside. The lid expanded into a collapsible bowl, and Zach poured some of the water into it, then went hunting through his gear for soap. Grumbling incoherently and yawning hugely, Adam struggled out of the sleeping bag. Between the two of them, they emptied and refilled the bowl several times to wash and shave before all the water was gone.
Adam did perk up when they were both naked, stroking Zach’s erection and muttering “morning glory.” But Zach wouldn’t let him try anything—no time and too many wide-awake people walking around nearby. They finished their ablutions by brushing their teeth. As soon as that was done, Adam leaned in and kissed Zach.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling and alert at last.
“Just woken up, have you?” Zach asked, amused.
“I only reach full consciousness after I’ve had three cups of coffee, but I’m almost there.”
“There’s coffee outside.”
“So what are we waiting for?”
“We are still naked. I think we’d better put some clothes on.”
“Spoilsport,” Adam said, grinning.
After dressing and making a quick visit to the latrine, they headed for the center of the camp, where people were gathered around the remains of the campfire, which gave enough residual heat to take the chill off the morning. Simon Frane handed them mugs of coffee.
“The distress signal has stopped,” he said.
Zach froze, the coffee mug partway to his lips. “Ah. When?” That hardly mattered, but it bought him time to decide how to react.
“About four hours ago.”
“Right.” Zach became aware of people looking at him. He took a gulp of coffee and made his expression calm. “It was running for a long time. It will have been picked up by the outposts and off-world.”
The length of time it had been running barely mattered, he knew. A distress call was a distress call, whether it ran for five minutes or five days. Those hearing it had to come to investigate. But would hearing it had been stopped give the group irrational worries, as if this would somehow stop rescue coming?
“What if the council sends another signal telling the outposts not to come?” a young woman with a small boy in her arms asked. It was an excellent question and one Zach couldn’t answer. Fortunately Visha could.
“A distress call takes precedence,” she said. “It has to be investigated. It doesn’t matter if they hear a message afterward saying ‘never mind’; they’re legally obliged to come and check it out.”
A palpable sense of relief washed over the group, which had been quiet and tense.
“And when they do come, we have our beacon,” Simon said. More relief, nods, and smiles.
“Thank you,” Zach said, smiling himself at the Franes. “And thank you again for whatever you did to keep the signal on for so long.”
“I wonder if they blew the comms center up after all?” Visha said, though she was grinning as she said it. She turned away to give Amina, half asleep at her side, some breakfast.
Zach looked down at the hills they’d climbed the day before and was quite impressed with their progress. He’d been too tired to check it the night before. But the place they’d started from was still just visible, pinpointed by the shapes of their abandoned vehicles. Arius was a dark smudge far in the distance across the flat basin floor. Even with good binoculars he wouldn’t be able to make out the largest buildings. But he might be able to see vehicles moving across the basin to the hills.
“Anything else happen during the night?” Adam asked.
“Nothing,” Torres said, coming over, a sandwich in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. “I checked with all the sentries, and none of them reported anything.”
“Good,” Zach said, and then wondered if he could call it good. Nothing to report meant no wandering animals or criminal activity, but no sign of problems with the island either. How long would people go on believing him with no physical evidence?
“Sentries.” Adam shook his head. “That’s a heavy sort of word.”
Zach decided he would definitely do sentry duty for a spell tonight. He glanced at Adam. With him? Or would that be a distraction? He didn’t think he’d be unable to stop himself flinging Adam to the ground and taking him there and then, but it would still be hard to pay attention to anything besides Adam’s eyes, his smile, his hair, the flicker of the firelight on his skin.
“Everyone fit and well?” Adam asked as Dr. Howie joined them.
“Fit enough,” he said. “Blisters are healing. People are a bit stiff, but they’ll feel better once we’re moving.”
Zach was pretty stiff himself. But as the sun rose higher, warming his back and shoulders, the aches eased. They were good. They were fine. He turned back to the others and found them looking at him again. What exactly did they want from him? They already knew the plan was to get away by seven. Did they need a reminder? Or simply a prompt?
“Okay,” he said. “Um, should we all get our breakfast finished? I think we should start to strike camp by six thirty.”
People started to move, heading back to their tents. Zach stared after them and roused only when Torres stopped beside him for a second and spoke briefly.
“Don’t ask them, tell them.” She moved on back to her tent, leaving him watching her go, mulling her small lesson. Adam appeared at his side.
“If you’re checking out her ass, then you’re even more complicated than I thought.”
Zach turned to him with a shake of the head. “Of course I’m not.”
“Good, because I think she has a boyfriend.”
Zach froze. “With us? Or back in town?”
“Back in…” Adam trailed off. “Shit.”
* * * *
“I’m going to take the first watch tonight,” Zach said as Adam finished erecting their tent and organized their gear inside.
“You mean we are,” Adam said, zipping together the sleeping bags as he had the night before. He’d enjoyed sharing the bag with Zach. They’d do the same tonight. And have a little more time to enjoy it. He’d been asleep almost before he came last night.
“I thought, maybe I should sit up with someone else.”
“What?” Adam stared. All day he’d been looking forward to snuggling under the stars with Zach, knowing Zach would volunteer for a watch tonight. Now Zach was standing there saying he didn’t want to?
“I just thought sitting with you I might be rather distracted.” He smiled weakly.
Adam chuckled and went on with setting up the tent. “Zach, we’re not on watch for a raid by enemy soldiers. It’s just in case there’s an emergency or something. A little distraction won’t hurt.”
“Okay. You’re right. I’m overthinking it.”
“I’ve noticed that about you.”
Zach sighed. “Always been a problem. You don’t mind staying up?”
“No. I slept like a dead man last night. Not quite as tired tonight.” A cup of coffee and teasing Zach would keep him awake. He couldn’t wait. “Let’s get some dinner.”
Nobody argued with them about taking first watch, and after dinner, the rest of the group began to settle for the night, leaving Zach and Adam sitting by the fire. Adam poured coffee and handed a mug to Zach.
“Thanks,” Zach said. He wore a worried expression, and Adam moved closer and sp
oke to him quietly.
“You okay?”
“Did you notice something at dinner tonight?”
“Mine could have used more salt.”
Zach gave him an impatient look. “Adam, please, I’m serious. I meant, there was no singing, like last night.”
Adam hadn’t noticed it at the time, but Zach was right. He shrugged. “People are more tired. We had a full day walking, not only a half.”
“Yes. They seemed more tired. And more tense.”
“I heard some grumbling. It’s to be expected.”
Zach scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it more unruly than ever. Adam reached over and smoothed it down, earning a smile from Zach.
“Do you think it’s only about being tired?” Zach asked.
“What else?”
“Nothing’s happened so far. No sign of trouble. What if people are starting to think I’m wrong?”
“You think they need…what, an earthquake to convince them?”
“Maybe. It’s hard for people to take things on faith, and that’s what I’ve had to ask them to do. To trust my judgment.”
“Ann backs you, remember. They’re trusting her too.”
“It’s not her they’re going to with every question.”
Adam nodded. “Yes, seen that. Making you nervous?”
“I didn’t realize they’d expect me to lead them this way. There are better qualified people right here with us.” His voice rose, then quieted. The lights were going off in the tents around the site. Voices silencing. A child’s voice sounded aloud here and there, but adults probably spoke more quietly, aware of the proximity of so many others.
“It’s not about who’s qualified,” Adam said. “You’re the prophet of this tribe, and they’re following you into the wilderness.” He grinned. “Maybe I should start calling you Moses.”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
“Okay, but if they start making a golden calf, things might have got out of hand.” He sipped his coffee for a while. A dog wandered over and sat down to enjoy the warmth of the fire. A retriever, its long silky fur made into gold by the firelight. Golden dog, Adam thought on the heels of the golden calf idea. A baby cried for a couple of minutes, then went quiet again.
