An Ancient Art Ch. 06byLucien_Grey©
Lynk walked rather than rode to the apartment complex he had visited a week ago. Only a week. The longest of Lynk's life.
It started raining as he reached the right square, remembering the rare patch of greenery, a tall tree shining against the surrounding rain made blurry grey buildings, at the centre of a protective glass dome. This tree and the few remaining in England 2.0 were protected in such a way. Their oxygen was the only natural source left, all else was manufactured.
Lynk was drenched in seconds and glad that the acid reading sent to his ID screen was low. He didn't need blisters to go with his beaten face. The rain washed away the dried flaking blood at least.
He got to the door and swore when he didn't know the access code. He fished out his ID screen and brought up the newest contact code.
It took less than five seconds for Stephen's face to appear.
"Three times in one day. Aren't you lucky?"
"What are you doing here? What happened to you?"
"Much as I'd love to discuss this in the cold and wet, would you mind letting me the fuck in?"
Stephen shook his head. Lynk thought he was denying him, but said, "Sorry, of course."
The door beeped, a heavy lock shifted and the outer seal broke. Light and warmth engulfed Lynk as he rushed inside, shivering, suddenly realising how cold he was. He rode the elevator skyward. Top floor, he remembered.
Stephen was waiting for him in the open doorway, towels in hand, "You look freezing."
Stephen seemed tired, not his usual polished self. Even in his depleted state, Lynk still found Stephen beautiful. This beautiful man was the reason Shay was in danger, Lynk reminded himself. He was here for a different reason.
Lynk was in. The smell of rich wood polish, dust created by book pages and of Stephen smothered him, wilting his resolve.
"You should take off your clothes."
Perhaps they were supposed to be as innocent as intended, but Stephen's words sent a hot jolt to Lynk's cock. He thought it safe not to comment and started to strip off. His sodden jacket felt too heavy. Everywhere was starting to hurt now Lynk knew Shay was alive and as well as he'd ever be. His adrenaline level had fallen through the floor and waited for him in the ground floor atrium. His drugged pain receptors were waking to his aching injured face.
Stephen was watching him struggle, "Let me help."
The suggestion was appealing. Lynk felt more tired than he thought and having a gorgeous man undress him would not be the worst thing to happen to him today. However, Lynk's pride muscled in through his exhaustion.
Stephen insisted, "Lynk, you look like you're going to fall over."
"I told you I'm–"
Stephen put a hand on each of Lynk's shoulders and with embarrassingly minimal effort pushed Lynk. Too late Lynk tried to grab Stephen, but fell. He landed in an ungraceful heap on the most comfortable sofa he had ever fallen on. Luckily for Stephen, Lynk's outrage quickly faded as he relaxed into a mass of cushions.
Stephen sank to his knees, "I insist."
Lynk knew it was supposed to by methodical, but couldn't stop the stirring in his water logged trousers, watching Stephen settle back on his heels. Boots he couldn't remember putting on were being unlaced. Stephen's green eyes were locked on the unpicking of each lace. One hand on the heel, the other on the sole, Stephen tugged and the relief around Lynk's freed foot was wonderful. Stephen moved to the second and with the same deliberate care removed the boot. His warm fingers slid up the trouser leg soaked to Lynk's skin and peeled off Lynk's sock. Stephen clasped the pad of Lynk's foot in his hands, almost burning the cold skin in his hot palms.
Lynk moaned involuntarily.
Lynk remained silent and offered the other foot. Stephen repeated the little ritual. Lynk stifled the moan this time with clenched lips, but it vibrated inside his throat, sounding like a purr.
Stephen looked up from his work. His expression was plain, as though he didn't know what he was doing to Lynk. His thumbs pressed into Lynk's heel, rotating his ankle like a medical massage. His hands travelled upwards, gripping Lynk's calves and working the muscle beneath.
Stephen leant up on his knees and went for Lynk's fly. With deft fingers and Lynk lifting his arse off the sofa, Stephen had Lynk out of his trousers and underwear in one go. The relief of having his soaked trousers removed was wonderful, but he shivered as the air touched his bare skin.
To Lynk's surprise, though he didn't think he could raise a smile let alone anything else, Stephen ignored his exposed cock and chose the top towel from the neatly folded pile. A small squeeze bottle fell from it and landed on the others. Lynk assumed it was lube. He had to admit, Stephen's insatiability could give Lynk a run for his money.
Stephen proceeded to wipe dry Lynk's leg with and then the other. It was soft and Lynk sank further into the sofa. Stephen dried him slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving his work. A perfectionist in all things. He wiped upwards, very slowly. He rubbed Lynk's stubbornly limp cock methodically. He put the towel aside and leant in close, fitting between Lynk's open legs. He fisted the hem of Lynk's shirt. Lynk obligingly lifted his upper body. Stephen had to stand to get it off, sliding through Lynk's thighs as Lynk raised his arms sluggishly. The gooseflesh that erupted almost hurt.
Lynk watched Stephen curiously, but Stephen continued his ministrations, rubbing a new, dry towel over Lynk's abdomen. He traced the valleys of Lynk's muscles. Satisfied, Stephen wiped his pecs. The towel's softness was a wonderful torture, caressing his pebbled nipples. Stephen was leaning in close. Once finished with Lynk's chest he met Lynk's eyes. He could feel the heat and arousal pouring from Stephen's body.
Lynk thought Stephen was going to kiss him, his face getting closer. Instead, Stephen surprised him again and gently dropped a leg either side of Lynk's hips on the sofa, straddling him. He kept himself distant, not touching, a clear gap between their crotches.
Lynk's cock made an unexpected jolt of approval. Stephen's hands slid around Lynk's waist. Expecting to be kissed again, Lynk surrendered the cushion's warmth for Stephen's, leaning into him. Again Stephen didn't touch his lips. He pulled Lynk into a hug, holding him tight against his body. Lynk sat dumbfounded, his arms out at his sides, unsure what to do with them.
Lynk felt the towel against his back. Though already dried by the sofa fabric, Stephen stroked the towel over the contours of Lynk's back as before. Slower this time, softer, with deliberate care. Lynk felt the heat of Stephen's gaze examining him.
Stephen's breath was hot in the dip of Lynk's collarbone. His hair tickled Lynk's ear. His cock pressed against Lynk's stomach.
Lynk's chest contracted painfully, his throat tightened. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say, but Stephen released him, letting him fall back once more.
Lynk watched, mute as Stephen turned and retrieved the lube from the bed of towels. Lynk tried to speak up again, but instead watched dumbly as Stephen flicked the lid on the lube before pouring a small amount on his fingertips. Lynk's only thought was that they would need a generous supply if they were getting straight into it.
Lynk jumped when Stephen applied the lube to his bruised cheek. He snatched Stephen's wrist, "What the-"
"It's a fast acting healing salve, if we apply it now the swelling and bruising should have gone by morning." Stephen met Lynk's eyes, then looked away, rubbing more of the salve into Lynk's skin, "I'm not going to ask why you're here and not at the hospital."
"But what happened to you? Why did they find Shay alone?"
"How do you know about that?" Lynk frowned, suspicious.
Stephen's hand stopped, "I called the authorities."
Something in Stephen's voice had hardened. Lynk didn't ask further.
Lynk told the same lies he had told the authorities, "I woke disorientated. I tried to find help and wandered off and collapsed again."
Stephen resumed his treatment as he muttered, "Changed your clothes."
Lynk shot him a warning look.
Stephen changed his line of questioning, "It's amazing you're not seriously hurt. How is your brother?"
Lynk lost eye contact, "He's fine."
He didn't like discussing Shay, not with the man who could have indirectly killed him. Maybe that wasn't fair. Stephen more than likely didn't know that he was being targeted, not by Lynk anyway. If he did, he was damn good at hiding it.
If Lynk got back into Stephen's office, the vastness of Stephen's collection would work in his favour, delaying the discovery of one book missing out of hundreds. He didn't only know how to hack, he could cover his tracks. The hard part would be getting through the door with a hardback book which Legion's employees desired to accompany certain, much more easily obtainable files, without being discovered.
Lynk had been forming plans since he had been released, the simplest was to fuck Stephen and hope that the scenario of last week would repeat itself. Other than that his only other option was to subdue or threaten Stephen, though not knowing the full status Stephen held within high society limited his possibilities of escaping Incarceration or worse, both he and Shay being shipped back to the slums.
Lynk didn't think telling Stephen the truth of his illegalities or of Legion's threats to himself or Shay would sway Stephen into giving over the documents willingly. Stephen's expression when he looked upon his library with blissful happiness and pride convinced Lynk it wasn't going to happen.
The snap of the salve bottle lid being replaced brought Lynk back to the present.
"You should sleep. You look exhausted." Stephen left Lynk's lap.
Lynk felt cold.
"You remember the way?" Stephen asked, gesturing to the stairs.
He didn't wait for Lynk's reply, picked up the towels and Lynk's clothes. He walked to the kitchen area, his back remained facing Lynk.
Lynk sat, stuck between wanting to leave, back to his cold studio flat or to stay, resulting with a possible fuck and the completion of Legion's little mission. He stood, remembering he was naked and walked, remembering his way to Stephen's bedroom.
Stephen moved away from Lynk, missing the heat and beat of Lynk's heart against his, unable to meet his gaze as he entered the kitchen. He stood out of view behind a stationary, antique partition screen he had found in the archipelago Nippon, it had cost him more than was necessary, but he had to have it once he saw it. He hid there, waiting until he heard Lynk pad up the stairs.
He dumped the towels and stripped clothes into a hamper. They didn't smell like Lynk. In front of Lynk he had controlled his trembling, unsure how he did so, now his empty hands shook.
Lynk was alive and here. So much didn't make sense. What had really happened during the time it took for the Observer's men to get to the scene? What wasn't Lynk telling him? He feared asking outright, knowing that Lynk was a flight risk. If Lynk left now that might be it. Yet here he was, bloody and beaten. Stephen recognised a punch in the face when he saw one. Or several. He couldn't believe Lynk's story. The rest of Lynk's body, minus his exhaustion was unharmed. He had been so close to the explosion.
Stephen poured himself a glass of water, but his shaking hand couldn't bring it to his lips.
Lynk was here. He had chosen to come back. Why? Stephen tried to piece together the fragments of their conversation with all he knew of Lynk, which wasn't a great deal and found too many missing pieces. Trust was not a currency Stephen was so rich in that he could give it out easily.
All the while he was treating Lynk, Stephen's mind had been split too many ways. The questions he wanted to ask, worrying over why Lynk was here of all places, the need to care for him, the desire to touch his cold, naked skin.
He was slightly ashamed of his arousal at such a time, but proud that he had resisted most temptations. The urge to kiss Lynk had been almost overpowering, it felt wrong that he hadn't.
Stephen reined in control as he imagined kissing Lynk in that moment. There was a light layer of stubble breaking through Lynk's once smooth chin. Stephen could almost feel it scratching his lips and cheeks.
He had trusted Lynk so far, another surprising element to their bizarre relationship. Stephen had thought it to be a one night stand, never expecting to see Lynk when he woke up. Instead fate or something else was working to keep them close. Stephen wasn't sure he liked not knowing what that something else might be.
His ID screen chimed, breaking Stephen's concentration. A message from his father:
'The boy's brother arrived at the hospital some three hours after the incident, but left shortly after being questioned. I would advise you to distance yourself from this matter.'
It appeared that no one wanted to involve Stephen in a matter that he was certain concerned him. First Lynk and now his father. Fortunately, Stephen had long stopped obeying the word of his father, Eyes of the City or not. Stephen's mind was made up with the reading of the message.
Lynk was welcomed by the blazing heat of the full burning fire as he entered the bedroom. Memories of his previous visit distracted him from his purpose. He saw Stephen standing naked in the firelight, casting dark shadows over the contours of his body, his olive skin shining in the blaze. Stephen spread open on all fours, waiting for Lynk to mount him.
Lynk saw the bed, its luxuriously soft, clean mass of uncountable layers and pillows beseeching Lynk to get lost inside it. An indent of Stephen's body lay on the left. Quickly, he turned his attention to the door, almost hidden in the wood panelling, leading to Stephen's office. Lynk's freedom and Shay's safety lay locked behind it. Why hadn't he paid more attention the last time he was here? Stephen's immaculate naked body came to mind.
Seeing no light peeking through the bottom and no visible handle, just an empty ancient style keyhole, Lynk pushed on the door experimentally. The hard wood didn't give. He assumed like the front door there were some high-tech security hidden within as well as the lock and missing key.
He felt it then, like a minor static shock travelling from the door to his fingertips, sending messages to his brain. He closed his eyes and saw in electrical flashes the same retinal and thumb scanner Stephen employed on his front door. Even the tech in this place was old. Using body recognition had been outdated since criminals started to use microsurgery or just hacked off the parts needed to gain entry. Accompanying the scanners was an even older clockwork system that required a certain pattern of key turns to activate it.
The bedroom door clicked, the old hinges betraying Stephen's presence. Lynk pushed away from the door and landed unceremoniously atop the extravagant bedding, sinking instantly into the mattress. Stephen was watching him. If he had seen Lynk snooping, his expression gave away nothing.
Lynk's heart fluttered violently with more than the fear of discovery. Stephen was wearing nothing but a pair of faded navy sweatpants, ill fitted, they rested low on his hips. The dark trail of hair starting from navel to groin was on full show. Slightly amazed that this pristine, polished man owned and wore such tattered clothes, Lynk stared open mouthed from his lying position on the bed. Stephen slowly made his way over. Lynk rose to his elbows and watched the movement of Stephen's lithe body. Stephen stood before him, staring.
Lynk tensed, waiting for it, for Stephen to pounce, to transform to the insatiable masochist. Lynk's breathing hitched, his heart fighting the confines of his ribcage, waiting. The silent seconds grew, becoming almost painful.
Lynk blinked, "What?"
"You should get under the covers. Aren't you cold?"
Feeling like a chastised child, Lynk slowly complied. His eyes never left Stephen's exposed upper body. Had he got the wrong apartment? The wrong Stephen, like he'd had the wrong Gralce?
Under the covers, Lynk shifted to the side as Stephen followed behind him. Stephen turned the other way and remotely turned off the light. A quick "Good night" was all he offered Lynk. The room glowed soft in the orange light of the fire.
Lynk lay there, somewhere between sleep and unsatisfied arousal. True, his cock had not made a strong presence as it lay limply across his leg, but having Stephen so near, so close to nakedness and looking like a bitch in heat before simply climbing into bed, had Lynk frustrated and reaching for Stephen.
Lynk forcibly pushed away sleep and pressed the length of his naked body against Stephen's. Stephen tensed. He shivered as Lynk stroked the line of his spine.
"Is that it?"
"Lynk. You shouldn't ... you can't-"
Lynk snapped. The fuck he couldn't.
With a small tug Lynk had Stephen's arse out of his loose sweatpants. His hand moulded tight over the firm muscle. Stephen pushed back against him. Lynk reached around and found Stephen hard, tenting his pants, the only thing holding them up.
Stephen squirmed, wiggling his bare cheeks in Lynk's hand. Lynk parted them, caressing the hole he had fucked earlier that day. His first finger slid inside, knuckle deep. Stephen grunted at the dry entry, but bucked his hips regardless. Lynk teased Stephen's insides, grinding his finger over Stephen's prostate.
When Stephen moaned it came out muffled. Stephen had a mouthful of bedding, biting it with bared teeth, gagging himself. Drool darkened the top sheet around his mouth. He writhed on Lynk's fingers. A painful jolt shot through Lynk's cock.
Stephen's arm reached behind to hold Lynk's hip, trying to push them closer together. His fingers trailed lower and reached between them, finding their target: Lynk's stubbornly semi-soft cock.
Lynk fingers slid from Stephen's body as Stephen sat upright, turning and looking down at Lynk. His face flushed and his cock stood to attention as though taunting Lynk's. He wet his lips, his chest still heaving.
Lynk expected some piteous words of 'never mind, it happens sometimes'. About to get up and leave, Stephen stopped Lynk with a firm hand on his chest, pushing him back into the mattress "Sleep. In the morning we can fuck until I exhaust you again." Stephen gave a lazy half smile, tracing a small figure of eight over Lynk's pec, lightly teasing his nipple.
The mood lightened, Lynk couldn't help but grin, "You better be prepared. Cocky bastard."
Stephen sucked on his bottom lip, his eyes hungry, but he lowered himself back into bed and rolled away from Lynk.
Lynk lay slightly amazed once more, but sleep came and claimed him, stealing his anger at Legion, anxiety for Shay's safety and embarrassment at his sapped libido.
Lynk hummed through clenched lips. A delightful wet heat was enveloping his cock. He was hard and aching, but it was being taking great care of. Lynk didn't want to open his eyes in case it was a wonderful dream, but when a finger massaged the entrance to his body he threw his head back and gasped. His eyes flew open. The dark canopy of a four poster bed filled his vision. He looked down to see a body shaped bulge shifting under expensive sheets, pausing when Lynk moaned.
A wet slurp came from Stephen. He released Lynk from his throat and teasingly licked small circles around the crown of his cock. Lynk uncurled his clenched fingers and threw the top layer away, revealing his tormentor.
Stephen met Lynk's eyes under drooping lids. One hand pumped the base of Lynk's cock while the other lay hidden between Lynk's lazily parted legs.