California Zephyr Ch. 01

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SadieRose
SadieRose
425 Followers

"What are you plotting?" The Vampire demanded breathlessly between kisses as his lover groped him energetically. Marc pulled away as quickly as he had moved in, and took a side-step, his movements as precise as a dance, to push Rayne up against the washstand in turn, coming up smartly behind him.

"Did you think I'd never done this kind of thing before?" he whispered into his companion's ear, from close behind.

The Vampire put his head back onto Marc's shoulder and admitted to himself silently that this was almost what he 'had' considered. A lifetime spent in pursuit of his own whim had left him ill prepared for sex on equal terms with someone. It was a shock to discover that there were other people still out there in the world that were as devious as he was.

Soft lips touched his ear and he shivered with pleasure as Marc whispered; "I have 'dreamed' of doing this."

Rayne yielded. It seemed too much of an effort to fight right now.

"D'you have rubbers? I left mine in my bag," the mortal whispered, nuzzling his neck as he rubbed himself urgently between Rayne's thighs. The Vampire pushed back against him bracing himself with both hands against the lip of the wash basin.

"Are you kidding?"

For a moment, Marc eased off and Rayne turned his head, conscious of the 'look' he was getting.

"What d'you mean?"

As he straightened, Rayne followed, half turning to face him, suddenly solemn.

"What I said. We don't need them." He tried a smile but the young mortal was gazing at him with a curious mixture of incredulity and forced tolerance.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he demanded, and the force of his enquiry left Rayne in very little doubt that he could still easily blow this. "You would have..? You'd have fucking well 'let' me..?"

He ran out of words and turned away, snatching at his pants and wrestling them back up, keeping his head bent, hiding evident disappointment behind the veil of his hair. His hands were shaking.

"Hey..." Rayne said gently, surprised by the vehemence of his reaction. "If you 'insist...'"

The other man's head came up and his eyes blazed briefly with emotion. "Do you have a death wish? Is that it?"

"No." Rayne shook his head emphatically. He held out his hands. "Hey... slow down here. I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to do..."

"Damn fucking right!" Marc growled softly at him.

He was reaching for the door latch when someone knocked from the outside and a voice said; "Hey... you gonna be in there all day, man?"

Rayne's lips quirked again at the expression on his companion's face. Marc looked torn between horror and hysteria. He turned back with wide eyes.

"Oh hell... what now?"

"Wait for him to go away," the Vampire suggested.

"What if he won't?"

"Open the door and walk out... what can he do?" Rayne grinned. For a moment the other guy looked as if he might relent and see the funny side, then Marc looked down again.

"What if he reports it? What if the rail people decide to prosecute or something?"

"What are they going to prosecute...? We haven't done anything. I'm a dumb English guy and you're very kindly showing me how the john works!"

A giggle escaped Marc at that and the boy put a hand over his own mouth briefly to stifle it.

"You're crazy!" he hissed at last.

"So I'm told."

Outside in the corridor the guy began to bang on the door. "Hey... c'mon I'm bustin' to pee out here!"

"Sorry!" Rayne called out in an exaggerated sing-song parody of an upper-class British accent. "Only I've got the raging shits in here... must be something off the buffet! I'd suggest you find another lavatory, sir!"

Marc clapped the other hand over his mouth and shook with suppressed laughter as the Vampire wrapped an arm around his shoulders and buttoned his fly awkwardly with the other hand.

A silence followed his words then concern replaced the irritation in the stranger's voice.

"Aww Jeez... are you okay in there? D'you want me to raise a doctor?"

Marc quivered and Rayne began to kiss him again.

"Ohhh... I think it'll work its own way through! Just... take my advice and don't touch the vol au vents, okay?"

In his embrace the boy was crying with laughter and Rayne swayed up against him, kissing his face and neck and chuckling softly to himself.

"Sh-sh-shhhh!"

"I can't h-help it!" Marc's breath was warm on his neck. "D'you think he's gone?"

"Shall we look?" Rayne ventured.

"Let's not." Marc kissed him more insistently.

So, they didn't.

LATER

It was quiet outside the door when they finally emerged, dishevelled and laughing, still tangled loosely in each other's arms, during the late afternoon. Marc touched his nose to Rayne's and the Vampire caught him by the hair, pulling him closer for an instant, suddenly conscious of how hungry he was. Being confined to close quarters like this made casual hunting virtually impossible. It might have been easier if he was allowed to smoke but the afternoon's distraction had certainly helped.

"D'you want food?" he whispered.

"I don't mind." Marc grinned at him, his face alive now, caught in the afterglow. "I think I may have read somewhere that the calorie count in a good come is astronomical."

"It isn't so bad," Rayne said, deadpan. "Better than a pack of salted peanuts, anyway!"

The young man cuffed him lightly and giggled some more. He had the cutest way of giggling.

"I've got a bottle of vodka in my sleeper," the Vampire suggested off-hand.

"You mean to say, you have a sleeper and we just spent the last hour in a toilet cubicle?" Marc sobered and looked at him aghast. "You have style, my dear!"

"Sorry sweetheart... I'm a creature of impulse!"

Marc kissed him roughly again and spun away, virtually gliding back down the corridor. Rayne followed more slowly, watching him with an appreciative smile. This was going to be a very interesting journey after all, he decided.

"So, where are you going?" he asked, over tall, iced glasses after lunch in the dining car. It was early evening and the sky was flushed with gold outside their windows as the express thundered on through Indiana.

"I told you." Marc said, swallowing and touching his lips to the straw again. "San Francisco."

"Sure... why?"

The young man smiled quickly and took another sip.

"This is good..." he ventured appreciatively, then sobered and said; "I'm looking at colleges out there."

"You're a student?"

"Mmmhmmm..."

"What'cha reading?"

Marc looked at him over the rim of the glass. "Lord of the Flies... in Italian."

"That's not what I meant..." Rayne grinned.

"I know."

"Italian, mind you..." The Vampire let his words hang and his smile grew more suggestive. Marc ignored him and returned his attention to the glass. "Ciao... bella.." Rayne blew a kiss and his companion retaliated with a mildly cynical expression. At last the singer stopped teasing. "Seriously....pretty deep stuff, though."

"D'you like Golding?"

"I'm not an expert," Rayne emptied his glass and flagged down the bartender for another. "I was never much of a fiction reader."

Marc sucked on the tip of the straw again, lowering his eyes to the base of the glass. Rayne knew the move... 'Take complete advantage of those long lashes', he thought to himself. The boy was an expert; a true seducer.

"Art History," Marc said at last, licking his lips thoughtfully.

"Huh?"

"That's what I'm studying... This is my intern year."

"You have to 'work', huh?" Rayne's lips quirked sardonically.

"Don't be a bitch. I know 'how'!"

The Vampire craned his neck, looking around.

"Am I boring you?" Marc demanded suddenly.

"Uh... no..." Rayne turned back to him, shaking his head quickly. "What time is it?"

"Time you got a watch."

"I never wear one. They go wrong on me." The Vampire's pale eyes were as bright as jewels in the overhead light. He gazed back, unblinking at his mortal companion and Marc looked away unexpectedly, then rolled back his sleeve to check his wristwatch.

"About nine thirty," he said quietly. "Is it important?"

"I just wondered... What time do we get to Omaha?"

He saw Marc's lips tighten. "Do I 'look' like a rail attendant?"

Rayne glanced back sharply at him then mellowed and shook his head. "No." He leaned forward on the edge of the counter. "I just need a fag, that's all. Then I can relax a bit."

"Very sad..." Marc shook his head despairingly, then turned back to the bar and asked for another Vodkatini.

Rayne watched him for a while in silence. Since this afternoon, the kid had been brittle with him again. He wanted to ask if Marc regretted the intimacy. Maybe they had nothing more than that in common. That and music.

He had not been bullshitting about the albums. One of the CD's in his holdall was 'Silver Line Park'. 'Good travelling music', Marc conceded, nodding his head. 'Music to get lost to.' The young guy seemed content to hang out with him, but as the night wore on he grew more touchy, almost uncomfortable. They were scoring points off one another and Rayne found it hard to understand why. He wanted to impress the kid. He almost had to stop himself from looking out for him, then considered that maybe that was it.

Over dinner, he had been fairly proprietary, but that was his way. He liked to take care of his lovers, always had done. Even if they were only casual flings and one night stands. Maybe Marc resented that.

He was not sure how to ask.

The bartender brought his companion's drink and automatically Rayne instructed him to put the charge on his own tab. Marc shot him another 'look' but said nothing. Once the guy had moved on to serve another couple, the Vampire said; "Am I not allowed to spoil you?"

"It isn't that," Marc retaliated at once, stirring the ice around in his glass with the long straw.

"What is it then? You resent that I can afford it?"

"No.." Dark eyes came up to meet his own and the boy's lips tightened again. "What d'you think, Rayne? D'you think that you've had me and now you can buy me off? Is that it?"

The Vampire shook his head. "I don't think that."

"Yeah... damn right you don't!" Marc pushed the straw aside and took a long slug of the drink straight from the glass. "I know what's going on in your head. You figure if you treat me right I'll roll over and beg..."

"I fucking do not!"

Several people looked along the car in his direction and Marc rolled his eyes and pretended to be absorbed in his drink, suddenly awkward again. Rayne removed the straw from his glass and emptied it at a single draught, then got to his feet and walked away.

In his head a little voice was berating him for an idiot.

'I don't have to take that!' he told it severely.

'Yeah! You could sleep alone for the rest of the trip!' it suggested by way of retaliation. 'Good move, Wylde! Damned good move!'

Leaning in the corridor once more, kicking himself silently, he debated that he could get his bags and leave the train at the next halt. Except that the next stop was somewhere he had never heard of and it would be at least another 24 hours before the next train came through. He pushed down the window and let the darkening night billow through his hair. The express stopped in Creston, Indiana and pulled out again. He was still leaning in the corridor, staring out into the night.

"You're here," Marc said quietly behind him. He did not need to turn around.

"Where else would I be?"

"I wondered... I thought maybe you'd jumped trains... or gone to bed."

"Like you care!" Rayne shrugged his shoulders against the night then straightened from the window and turned to face him again.

"I don't understand what your problem is," Marc told him evenly. "But if I'm gonna spend the night with you, then I think you should sort it out, or I'm sleeping coach class."

MUCH LATER

Rayne had booked the double berth for comfort, pure and simple. He hated feeling closed in and was reluctant to share his sleeping place with anyone he had not selected personally. When the door closed almost soundlessly behind Marc and the boy set his bag down on the floor, just within the encircling walls, the singer was sprawled comfortably across the mattress in the dimly illuminated compartment, with his dark blue shirt unfastened and slipping from his shoulders, drinking from the two litre bottle of Stolichnaya he had picked up at la Guardia Duty Free just a few days ago. He sat forward now and wiped the neck of the bottle, holding it out like a gift - or a bribe.

Smiling quietly, Marc closed his fingers around the vessel and Rayne drew it, and him, back towards the bed before releasing it and letting him drink. Whilst Marc let the pure, Russian vodka burn down his needy throat, Rayne slipped steady, gentle hands beneath his sweater and unbuttoned his jeans deftly. He did not speak now. Marc had the fleeting feeling that they were beyond words. The singer's lips felt chilled against the warm flesh of his abdomen and he shivered, taking another long draught from the bottle. Rayne's hands were cold on his naked thighs when the other man drew his jeans down quickly and began to caress his slim legs and bare ass intimately.

Wordlessly, Rayne kissed his belly and crotch, burying his face in the warm hollow of his pelvis, kissing the silken weight of his prick, teasing it with the tip of his tongue until Marc felt himself stiffen in response. He kept drinking until Rayne reached up for the bottle and murmured; "Enough..."

Then the singer was pulling him down onto the covers and pressing him into the yielding mattress, scrambling up to kiss his neck and throat whilst peeling back the layers of his clothing. He knelt back once and drank from the bottle, then put it down by the side of the bed. His eyes were darkly luminous in the shadows beyond the small night light and a contemplative smile tugged at his full, sensuous lips very briefly before he sank down once again, taking the other man in his arms and holding him very close.

"You are incredibly beautiful," he whispered in his lover's ear, running slow hands over the warm, silken skin of the young man lying under him. Methodically, he undressed the lad, whilst Marc's fingers found and unbuttoned his fly and his own hands slipped into Rayne's snug black jeans, exploring him boldly. "I want you."

Their lips met; almost clumsy in their urgency, and Marc felt one of those strong, cold hands slip beneath him, stroking its way up his naked back to the nape of his neck and through his hair as Rayne kissed him in a relentless fashion, insinuating his vodka-tasting tongue between his bedmate's teeth and deep into Marc's open mouth; biting his lips and sucking on his own tongue as they writhed together, creating a mutual electricity. Rayne was just as excited as he was feeling; Marc was conscious of the singer's erect cock, pressing against his thigh and hip as they strained against one another. He reached between them, touching it with gentle fingers, squeezing and rubbing until he could feel the blood pulsing under his hand, and Rayne was gasping almost soundlessly between his parted lips while they kissed.

Now the singer's mouth roamed lower again, and he teased and nuzzled Marc's neck and throat, his skilful tongue darting over the flesh, tracing shivery lines of pleasure on his lover's skin as he bent over the young man's nude torso and sucked greedily on his nipples. Softly, the mortal groaned and reached out for his hand, guiding it to his own cock and urging Rayne to fondle him there. The singer chuckled deep in his throat and his lips moved sweetly down, across his partner's flat stomach, his tongue briefly exploring Marc's navel, then licking its way south into the dark tangle of his pubic hair.

"Aa-hhhh....!" Marc exclaimed, closing his eyes as Rayne began to kiss the base of his cock, still caressing him with one cool, long-fingered hand.

"M-mmmmm..." Rayne conceded, and chuckled again, his breath a warm breeze across his bedmate's slender hips and lean thighs. He kissed his way lingeringly to the tip of Marc's erect prick then, as the naked youth tilted his chin into his chest to observe his progress, let his lips part and swallowed the head of his lover's sex deep into the wetness of his mouth.

"Ohhhh..." the boy whispered, weak with arousal, as he stroked his own fingers through Rayne's hair and urged himself in still further. "Ohhh, that feels so-ooo good!"

He thought he felt Rayne smile; a stretching and tightening of the lips that pleasured him, which only increased his sense of growing excitement. At this rate it would be over far too soon... he was so close that he felt quite faint from the sense of his imminent climax in the singer's mouth. Just as he was sure he was about to cum uncontrollably, Rayne Wylde sat back from him and began kissing his thighs very tenderly, stroking soothing hands down the length of his body until the tightness in his balls subsided and he was able to draw breath; then beginning his seduction anew.

Marc let himself be rolled onto his side and Rayne kissed his naked back from nape to knees, running soft lips down one thigh and back up the other to the curve of his beautiful arse. Insistent fingers parted his cheeks and the tip of the singer's tongue tormented the puckered lips of his rectum mercilessly until he felt his stomach turn and clench with need. Rayne was nuzzling between his legs, kissing him there, stroking his cock with one hand and probing his thoroughly spittle-lubed arsehole with the middle two fingers of the other. Spreading his partner's lean thighs wide, he scrambled back between Marc's legs to suck on him again. Marc trembled with a need he could barely articulate, but he managed to roll himself onto the other man, pinning him down whilst he manoeuvred himself into a position that allowed him to snuggle against Rayne's pale, sleek belly, nuzzling and kissing his cock in turn.

The singer was virtually hairless; apart from a dusting of dark curls around the base of his penis, he was as smooth as a wax doll. The head of his cock felt like wet silk as Marc swallowed it, sucking slowly and reverently, feeling Rayne's mouth still working hard on his own sex. He pressed himself deeper, as the other man's fingers penetrated him more roughly, fucking him with a fast, persistent action which gradually loosened the tight muscles of his sphincter and sent an electric tingle of longing through him. Groaning incoherently he buried his face in the dark hollow of Rayne's crotch and gripped the other man's pale thighs, pushing his jeans down to his knees and taking the singer completely in his mouth. He forced himself to breathe steadily through his nose, overcoming the instinctive gagging reflex as the beautiful Englishman's magnificent, powerful erection pulsed against the back of his throat and Rayne, in turn, swallowed him totally, sucking him hard until he wanted to cry at the sheer joy of it.

His lover's probing fingers virtually withdrew as they writhed together on the bed, then Rayne re-entered him with three digits, thrusting them in to the third knuckle, teasing Marc's prostate with insistent fingertips until he threw back his head and gasped with pain and pleasure. This time he came hard and the gasp became a wail of longing as his balls tightened again and Rayne nuzzled their silken weight and devoured the hot, spurting river of semen hungrily, swallowing again and again. A low moan of delight escaped his chest and he eased his fingers out of his lover and turned onto his side, still nuzzling and sucking, but holding Marc to him with a reverent tenderness.

At last he let the young mortal's cock slip from his mouth (losing its rigidity quickly now that his balls were empty) licked his cum-jewelled lips and wiped his chin with one hand, then kissed Marc's stomach fondly.

SadieRose
SadieRose
425 Followers