Stung (Zombie Gentlemen) by K.A. Merikan Page B

man’s arm. As crazy as it was, he didn’t
doubt Crunch’s sincerity, but he just couldn’t stay here. Even with better
food, better work and less people in the barrack, what would he become in the
eyes of the other prisoners if Crunch were to make the camp life easy on him?
He would die in shame.
    “Oh, I wanted to touch ya yesterday so bad.”
Crunch wrapped his arm around Victor’s shoulders, its weight reassuring rather
than a threat. The man's boldness only confirmed how peaceful this part of the
orchard was.
    “I was thinking about you when I was falling
asleep.” Victor gave voice to the disappointment he was feeling on his
uncomfortable bunk. It was then that he truly missed the stolen moment under a
bulk of warm muscles.
    “Oh, were ya...?” Crunch hugged him closer. “I
might just make yar dreams come true.”
    Victor chuckled, getting to his toes to press a
kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Depends on what you have in mind.”
    They reached the outer border of the orchard and
walked out into the floating sea of tangled grass and weeds. Some were tall
enough to smack Victor’s chest, bouncing back after Crunch went through them,
but they didn’t break any not to leave a visible trail. With no warning, Crunch
let go of him and disappeared with a mute thump. Victor swallowed and pulled
some of the particularly tall growths to the side before looking down at
Crunch, who grinned at him from the bottom of a grassy ditch. He didn’t say a
thing and instead, held out his arms in invitation.
    Victor bit his lip at the melting feeling in his
chest and jumped right into the welcoming arms. “Kiss me.”
    “Such a demanding slave.” Crunch laughed as if
those words were no big deal and complied with the request, locking Victor
against his warm chest. It made Victor forget where he was, or who he
was for that matter. Crunch was such an excellent kisser that he must have been
lying when he denied being a charmer.
    With a soft whine, Victor opened up to him and
teased Crunch’s tongue, coaxing it inside his mouth. He loved the slight
scratch of afternoon stubble against the softness of a warm mouth that quickly
took over the kiss.
    “Ah, so good.” Crunch slid his hands down to
Victor’s arse and squeezed it, almost picking him up. It sent a jolt of burning
sensation to Victor’s groin.
    “Yeah?” he asked breathlessly, rubbing his inner thigh
against Crunch's leg. His body was already craving more.
    “Yeah, I got ya to myself.” Crunch kissed him once
more before sitting down in the thick grass and taking off his jacket.
    Taking this as a sign, Victor pulled off his shirt
and dropped to his knees next to the other man. “You’ve prettied yourself up
again. Is that for me?”
    “Oy!” Crunch furrowed his eyebrows, but a blush
crept up his thick neck. “Was laundry day.”
    Victor smiled and leaned in to kiss the heated
skin, enjoying Crunch’s pulse just beneath his lips. “It’s a good thing that
you’re trying to court me.”
    “Yeah, laugh at the working class.” Crunch fell
back to the grass with a sigh, pulling Victor along.
    “I thought I was the working class,”
whispered Victor, placing his knees on either side of Crunch’s hips and
nuzzling the underside of his jaw. He was happy to discover that Crunch even
used some cologne.
    “Now ya are. Ya can mingle with me now .”
Crunch reached out to stroke Victor's chest, rousing a low chuckle.
    “Oh? Are you saying, if things were like usual, I
would just let you fuck me without the mingling?” he teased.
    “Nah. Ya wouldn’t fuck with the likes of me back
in London.” Crunch lapped at his lips like a dog, and Victor ground his hips
into him with a low moan, shuddering in his partner’s strong embrace. Crunch's
cock was already hard in his trousers.
    “I wouldn’t?” It felt so intimate to lie in the
grass like this, sharing the hot air of their breaths.
    “‘Course not. Pretty boy like ya.” Crunch’s big
hands slid down the