the two male engineers going at it almost every night. Huffing and puffing, moaning and groaning, their skin had slapped in one-two time. Unable to see them, he’d pictured them in his mind. Sometimes he thought the erotic sounds would drive him mad, but he’d stubbornly refused to give up his sleeping quarters. He’d become an expert at silent masturbation, a talent he might resume when the lights finally blacked out here, because right now, there was only one thing he wanted to do with Drum. And he’d never had sex with another man before.
I can think of plenty to keep you occupied, my friend . Drum watched Jake fidget and twitch and finally drift off to sleep. A powerful urge to comfort him skimmed through his body. Beneath the self-sufficient, intellectual outer shell he sensed a man reaching out for companionship. How long before he opened up to him?
He sighed. They had plenty of time. It could be weeks before the herds passed by. The grasses grew thick and lush here, attracting the grazers. The more grazers, the more Wallabusk, and the more scavengers. They didn’t need any more surprises like the visit from the young Tygess though. His gaze shifted from Jake’s peaceful face to his ankle, and he mentally kicked himself once more for leaving Jake open to attack. They should’ve changed the dressing before he’d lain down. Now Drum hated to disturb him. Silently, he crept closer, grabbed an illumination stick, lifted the med pad on Jake’s ankle and examined the bite marks. A dim yellow-green glow illuminated the wound. Several layers of skin had been stripped away, leaving a raw open wound. The med pad helped speed the healing process, but the skin would tighten up and itch by morning.
He replaced the blood-soaked pad with a clean one, gently pressing the edges so they sealed around the wound. The scratches on his legs were minor. No fresh blood dotted his shirt above the puncture wounds in his belly. Drum wanted to lift the shirt hem so badly, but Jake stirred, pulling his knees up. His eyes moved rapidly beneath his eyelids. He’d wake him if he tried to examine the wound now.
The scuffle with the beast and the swift butchering afterward had worn Drum out, too. He hadn’t told Jake about the trampled grass ringing the opening to the pit and the warning shots he’d fired to keep scavengers away while he worked. Now that his adrenalin levels had returned to normal, exhaustion set in.
He stretched out alongside Jake, close enough to feel his heat but not touching. As tired as he was, sleep eluded him.
The room was frigid. His fix to the air regenerator had failed. Before he even looked, he knew the temperature circuitry was fried. The temperature choice was High Cool or nothing at all, in which case they’d suffocate. Shutting off the air and opening the hatch in the middle of the night was not an option. Besides, he feared if he turned the unit off, it wouldn’t come back on again.
He glanced over at the animal pelt, scraped clean and smeared with mashed brains. It needed to soak overnight before the final step in the process --softening.
Body heat would have to suffice for now.
Too bad , he thought with a wicked smile.
He set the light stick near the vent where the cold air slowed the chemical reaction, thus dimming the luminescence and making the light last longer. After his eyes adjusted to the low light, he tracked back to the water tank and quenched his thirst. Now that he was up, he was too wide-awake to go back to sleep, but why sit over here when Jake needed warmth?
As subtly as possible, Drum snuggled up to Jake’s back. The sleeping man sighed softly as Drum spread his warmth around him like a cocoon. The tenseness in Jake’s back relaxed and his breathing slowed into a more natural slumber. Drum felt warmer despite the cold air sweeping over his back.
The urge to wrap Jake in his arms pulled at him. The smell of Jake’s hair, his skin, the fabric of his sleeveless shirt all mixed
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley