Honeytrap

Home > Other > Honeytrap > Page 26
Honeytrap Page 26

by Aster Glenn Gray


  “No!” Gennady said, and Daniel stopped in the threshold. “I only meant – perhaps you want to get rid of me.”

  “No,” said Daniel. “Of course not. It’s been fifteen years since I’ve last saw you, the last thing I want to do is get rid of you.”

  A knot loosened in Gennady’s chest. “Well – sit, then.”

  Daniel moved to sit on the steps. The door clanged shut, blocking out the lamplight, and the lost dazzle left them both blind in the dark.

  “So,” Daniel said, and Gennady’s nerves thrilled painfully. “Arkady.”

  “Arkady,” Gennady agreed, and could not go on, his throat swelled so it choked him.

  “Your boss?” Daniel prompted. “The one who hit you?”

  “He only hit me once.” Well, twice, but both the same day, together it counted as one time. “And I was very insolent that day. Oh, he was not as bad as you are thinking. He was just… he was handy.”

  “Handsy,” Daniel corrected automatically.

  “Handsy. Yes. Like a man who chases his secretary around the desk but thinks he is a gentleman because he never fucks her.” Gennady took a long drag on his cigarette. “How do you think he came up with the honeytrap idea? Doubtless he thought, if he couldn’t keep his hands off me…” Gennady flushed painfully, and was glad that the shadows hid his face. “He was one of those people for whom the whole world is a reflection of himself. Anything he wants, anyone else will want too.”

  “And I did.” Daniel’s voice was nearly toneless, but Gennady heard the guilt in it.

  “And I wanted you,” Gennady shot back fiercely. “That was why I came to you on the last night, that’s why I’m here now. Don’t you understand? Even though I like you, even though I trust you, I thought that would be enough to wash over all that, and it isn’t.” His voice had gone hoarse by the end. He swallowed. “I need a drink.”

  The porch creaked as Daniel rose. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  “Daniel! Vodka, brandy?”

  “Oh.” Daniel sounded aghast. “We don’t have any alcohol at the cabin. I’m so sorry.”

  Gennady thought darkly of the antifreeze in the car. But he was not Alyosha, he hadn’t sunk that far, even if he felt tears rising in his throat. “Oh, I never should have told you. It was nothing, and it’s not even true anyway, you were not the only two, there was Alyosha also, he is the one I messed around with when I was drunk.” He took another drag on his cigarette, and to his horror the tears stung his eyes. He glanced at Daniel, uselessly of course, he couldn’t see Daniel’s face in the darkness. “Daniel…”

  “Gennady?”

  But Gennady could not bring himself to say, Do you despise me now?

  The porch creaked again as Daniel sat back down. Gennady tried to blow a smoke ring, but he was not good at them at the best of times, and now his hands were shaking too badly. His cigarette was burning down anyway, he lit a second off the butt of the first, and ground the first out in a knothole.

  “He died seven years ago,” Gennady said. “So there is no point in telling your FBI that you have a prime piece of blackmail material about one Arkady Anatolyevich.”

  “Gennady!”

  “Your FBI would want to know,” Gennady insisted.

  Daniel didn’t reply at once. “Is that why you didn’t tell me back then? Because of the FBI?”

  Gennady shook his head. “No. I never even thought of telling you. Impossible.” He pressed his hand against the porch step, feeling the grain of the wood under his fingertips. “I never told anyone.”

  “Not even Alla?”

  “Of course not.” How could he have done that to her? “Did you tell Elizabeth about John?”

  There was a brief pause. “I tell Elizabeth everything,” Daniel said.

  “Yes. Well.” Gennady’s throat felt hot and tight. “I suppose you will tell her all about this, too.”

  “No,” Daniel said. “I told her everything about me. I’m not going to tell her your secrets.”

  “No, tell her if you want to,” Gennady said. Suddenly he didn’t care anymore. He felt as if he had fallen from a great height and every single part of his body was sore.

  Daniel did not speak for a while. The wood creaked as he shifted his weight. Gennady kicked a heel against the edge of the steps.

  “You were the first person I ever told about John,” Daniel said.

  That surprised Gennady. “You didn’t tell Paul?”

  “Oh. Well. He was so pleased to be the first man I kissed…”

  Gennady snorted.

  “Oh, shut up,” Daniel said.

  Gennady smiled. He took a drag on his cigarette and risked a glance at Daniel. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness: he could see Daniel’s face now, even met Daniel’s eyes briefly. But he couldn’t hold the eye contract, and looked away across the clearing, the tall grass touched in silver by the moonlight, and asked, “Are you angry with me?”

  He asked only because he knew Daniel was not, but still it was a relief to hear the surprise in Daniel’s voice when he said, “No. Of course not.”

  “You must be disappointed,” Gennady insisted. “After you drove me all the way to your dacha… And I wanted so much for this to go well. To make up for behaving so badly all those years ago.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The last night… You know. The buttons on my shirt. Well, at least now you know why. Probably you have been wondering.”

  “Oh. Well, I always figured… I mean, I never guessed it was Arkady. But I figured someone had been rough with you.”

  Gennady’s eyes pricked. It depressed him that this had been so obvious, that he had hidden nothing at all, when he had tried so hard.

  “And I wouldn’t say that you behaved badly,” Daniel added.

  “I did,” Gennady insisted. “I made things very awkward for you, when I should have just said no.” A brief silence, his heart swelling in his throat; and then he said, “I never said no to Arkady.” That was the worst of it, that he had not tried to stop Arkady; it would have been useless, he might have gotten fired, but it shamed him that he had not tried. “Except the last time. There was no point, worse than pointless, it made things worse.”

  His voice withered into nothingness at the end. He drew in his breath, and held it, and felt he might explode; and when Daniel touched his elbow, Gennady did explode off the step, he nearly ran into the darkness, he stood panting as if he had already run a marathon. He stood a long moment, shivering, and then collapsed back down on the warm steps. He could not speak, he put a hand on Daniel’s arm; and then he felt Daniel’s arms around him, and he put his arms around Daniel and clung to him.

  “It was nothing,” Gennady mumbled into Daniel’s shoulder, “nothing. He did not even touch me usually, he just looked.”

  “Fuck him,” Daniel said fiercely. “Fuck him. Fuck him.”

  He rubbed Gennady’s back, and cupped a hand over the nape of his neck, and Gennady let out a shuddering sigh and pulled himself close to the warmth of Daniel’s body and the strong solid beat of Daniel’s heart.

  Daniel held him for a long time, until Gennady’s heart rate slowed and his breath smoothed. Gennady felt very shy and small and childish, and rather too warm in Daniel’s arms; but comfortable, too, he did not want to let go. But then Daniel shifted, as if he were getting stiff, and Gennady wriggled free so that Daniel would not have to push him away.

  “We should go inside,” Gennady said, and stood. He felt stiff himself, and chilly, although the night was warm. “I’m tired.”

  “Yes, of course.” Daniel got up too. “Let’s fold out the couch. The back goes down to turn it into a bed.”

  Gennady followed him inside. He made no move to help Daniel lower the back of the couch till Daniel said, “C’mon, Gennady, grab the far corner, will you?”

  Gennady did it with ill grace. He did not want to be banished to sleep on the couch, and he watched with his arms folded as Daniel spread sheets, and fluff
ed a couple of pillows, and sat on the edge of the couch-bed to take off his shoes.

  It was only when Daniel made to remove his polo shirt that Gennady began to understand. “Are you sleeping down here?”

  “I thought…” Daniel said. His half-removed shirt hid his face, but Gennady could hear his embarrassment. “I thought it would be nice to sleep together. Just to sleep,” Daniel clarified hastily, jerking his shirt back down. “No hanky-panky.”

  “Hanky-panky,” Gennady echoed. The silly word pleased him, and that made it easier to say, stumbling, “Do you still want…? Not tonight. I’m so tired. But do you still…”

  He could not finish his sentence: it seemed so unlikely that Daniel could still want him, after all of this. But Daniel touched Gennady’s forearm, and Gennady raised his eyes, and Daniel squeezed Gennady’s forearm and smiled at him. “You know I’m crazy about you, Gennady,” Daniel said.

  Gennady could not speak. He smiled at the floor, and gently kicked the side of the couch.

  “But if you’d rather…” Daniel began. He let go of Gennady’s arm and cleared his throat, and it struck Gennady that Daniel was not quite sure himself either. “If you’d feel more comfortable,” Daniel said. “I can sleep upstairs if you’d rather sleep alone.”

  “No, no, no,” Gennady said. “No. Stay.”

  But Gennady still felt shy, and did not undress until Daniel had blown out the lantern. He lay down gingerly atop the sheets in boxers and undershirt, prickling with the awareness of Daniel lying beside him.

  For a long time they just lay quietly, and slowly Gennady relaxed. A soft breeze blew in through the open windows, and it felt good on his hot skin. “Do you remember,” Gennady said softly, “the time we had to share a bed in that motel room up in Minnesota?

  “When the power went out?” Daniel said. “And you snuggled right up against me and started stroking my stomach like a little creep?”

  Gennady smiled. “Only till you told me to stop,” he protested. He rolled onto his side, peering into Daniel’s face in the moonlight. “Did you already like me then?”

  “I was trying not to. I think what really tripped me over the edge,” Daniel said, “was the time that you compared me to a British warrior daubed in woad.” Gennady laughed again, and Daniel added, rather wistfully, “Was that real, or just for the honeytrap?”

  “Both, maybe.” Gennady yawned. “If it hadn’t been for the honeytrap, we could have been making good use of those motel rooms – oh, starting soon after Christmas, perhaps.”

  “Would you have insisted on getting drunk every time?”

  “Probably at first.” Gennady yawned again. “But you see, you can convince yourself you are drunk on two shots, if that’s what you need to believe.”

  Daniel touched Gennady’s arm lightly, right where his sleeve met skin. Gennady scooted a little closer, even though it was so warm. Daniel draped an arm around him, and so they fell asleep.

  Chapter 3

  When Daniel woke the next morning, he found Gennady still asleep beside him, lying on his stomach with one arm hanging over the side of the couch. He must have gotten hot in the night, because he had taken off his shirt, and Daniel lay there and gazed at his bare skin and felt that here, finally, was the sweet sleepy morning that the fates had denied them fifteen years ago.

  On the day Gennady went back to Moscow, Daniel had awakened in the pre-dawn darkness to find Gennady already out of bed, tying his tie: “Get up, let’s go, I have to catch the train.” There had not even been time for a final cup of coffee.

  But today, they did not have to go anywhere, and the morning light lay softly on Gennady’s skin. It felt like a miracle, after so much time had passed, and when Daniel had come so close to fucking everything up last night, too. That moment when Gennady said, Only you and Arkady…

  He hoped in the end Gennady would be glad he had told, just as in the end Daniel had been glad he had told Gennady about John. It had hurt in the telling, but a lot of the pain had gone out of the memory after. Like slashing open a blister to let out the pus

  Still. Daniel should have backed off when Gennady was so hesitant to go up to the cabin in the first place.

  “Are you sorry you didn’t get this chance fifteen years ago?”

  Caught out, Daniel tore his gaze from Gennady’s back. Gennady was looking at Daniel, his gray eyes bright with amusement.

  “Yes,” Daniel said. “I always felt that we got cheated. We should have had a long leisurely morning in bed, and instead…”

  Gennady cocked his head, then nodded. “Ah. Because I had to catch the early train.” He poked Daniel in the stomach. “I meant, are you sorry you didn’t see me without my shirt,” Gennady said, “when I was young and beautiful.”

  “Don’t fish for compliments,” Daniel told him.

  Gennady laughed. “Did you miss me after I was gone?”

  “Yes, of course.” Daniel had been miserable. But he didn’t want to talk about that now. Instead he poked Gennady in the side, and teased, “I bet you didn’t miss me, though.”

  “You understand,” Gennady said, and he sounded almost apologetic, “once I was back in Moscow, it was like everything in America was a dream.” His brow puckered, like he was afraid this might hurt Daniel’s feelings.

  It did, just a little. Not that Daniel had wanted Gennady to be miserable, but it would have been nice if he’d said he pined just a little.

  But then Gennady kissed him, light as a butterfly, and suddenly Daniel didn’t mind about anything anymore. “Every year on American Christmas,” Gennady said; “you understand we do not celebrate this in the USSR…”

  “Because you’re all godless heathens,” Daniel said, smiling.

  “Yes, exactly. Godless heathens. But nonetheless, on your Christmas, I get out the book that you gave me, the volume of Emily Dickinson, and I read it.”

  Daniel was too pleased to speak. He put his hand on Gennady’s, and Gennady lifted Daniel’s hand and kissed it. He tugged Daniel’s hand gently, and Daniel allowed himself to be pulled in, and Gennady caught Daniel’s face between his hands and kissed him, more deeply this time, his hands tangled in Daniel’s hair. “I like your hair like this.”

  Daniel wore his hair longer now; not long like a hippie’s, but long enough that it would have given Hoover an aneurysm if he’d been alive to see it on an FBI agent. Daniel fingered Gennady’s hair. “You should grow yours out.”

  “None of my colleagues would approve.”

  “To hell with them,” Daniel said, and kissed him.

  For a long time there was nothing but their mouths, lips and tongue and teeth, Gennady’s hands in Daniel’s hair. Daniel touched Gennady’s shoulders, his shoulder blades, the line of his spine. The morning was quiet except for the crickets in the grass, the sound of lips on lips.

  Daniel’s fingers stumbled over the rough skin of a scar on Gennady’s side: legacy of Peter Abbott’s knife. Gennady broke the kiss.

  “Does it hurt?” Daniel asked.

  “No,” Gennady said.

  But Daniel had the feeling Gennady was not comfortable having it touched. He moved his hand back up Gennady’s side, and Gennady caught Daniel’s hands in his own and rolled them both over till he pinned Daniel lightly, pressing Daniel’s hands against the couch.

  Daniel smiled up at him. He wanted to touch Gennady, caress his collarbones, his taut nipples, and he tried to pull his hands free. But Gennady’s grip tightened, and the pressure sent a jolt of desire through Daniel’s body.

  “What are you going to do with me now?” Daniel asked, breathless.

  “I don’t know,” Gennady said. His tongue flickered over his lips. “Kiss you again, I think.”

  He lay down on top of Daniel as he kissed him, and Daniel rocked up against him, thrilling as he felt the hard heat of Gennady’s erection through his boxers. “Let me touch you,” Daniel begged. Gennady let go of Daniel’s wrists, and Daniel ran his hands down Gennady’s sides, pressing the small o
f his back just where he had liked it all those years ago.

  Gennady bit his shoulder. Daniel yelped, hips bucking against Gennady’s, and Gennady asked, “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” Daniel panted. “You could slap me right now and I’d love it.”

  “I can if you want,” Gennady said, and Daniel laughed, giddy, because he did want it and he didn’t. He wasn’t sure what he wanted: to kiss Gennady all over, to fuck or be fucked, anything to be closer, skin against skin.

  Daniel shimmied out of his boxer shorts. Gennady’s hands slid down Daniel’s back, over the curve of his ass, and Daniel’s hips rose in the hope of Gennady’s fingers sliding between his buttocks, the burn in his thighs as Gennady hooked Daniel’s legs over his shoulders and pushed inside, the heat, the stretch, the rhythm as Gennady rocked inside him…

  But Gennady’s hands slid on down Daniel’s thighs, instead. Daniel shivered. “Your shorts, Gennady,” he gasped, and at last Gennady took his shorts off, and his naked body pressed all along Daniel’s, all hot slick skin, his mouth open and wet against Daniel’s as Daniel wrapped his hand around their cocks and jerked them both off together.

  Afterward, Gennady smiled at him sleepily, and kissed the place where he’d bitten Daniel’s shoulder, and cuddled in close as Daniel ran his hands over Gennady’s sides and back. Daniel stroked him, and rested, and felt the lassitude of satisfaction settling over his limbs; but desire till simmered under his skin, the fire banked but burning, the honeymoon yearning to make love again and again.

  Gennady’s mouth moved against Daniel’s shoulder. “We ought to have breakfast,” he murmured.

  “Yes!” Daniel thought with pleasure of the good coffee in the picnic basket: much nicer than anything they could have gotten at a diner in 1960. “It’s just coffee and toast and preserves,” he said, and wished he had brought something fancier, although he had spent all week telling himself to keep the breakfast menu casual. It would have been silly to pack something fancy when Gennady might not even come to the cabin. “I’ll bring you breakfast in bed.”

 

‹ Prev