Excerpt from the selkie story as a little sticky valentine’s gift for you all! Though perhaps, as H2G2 suggests, it ought to be a St Cyril’s day gift, since he fought against language elitism and only teaching the Bible in Latin – though he probably wouldn’t approve of what follows here. But hey, taking literature out of the hands of the educational elite and using it for purposes they deem beneath them? Romance is relevant.

Warning: Explicit m/m sex. Not suitable for under 18s.

The stranger gave Barnabas an enquiring look, stopping with his hands on his waistband. He smiled, but there was something serious in his eyes that Barnabas found reassuring. He enjoyed the pause; the smell of ozone on the breeze, the prickle of grass under his bare feet, the scream of gulls above them. It stretched for ever and was over in a moment, as Barnabas grabbed his guest by the shoulders and pushed him to the ground. Their lips met and didn’t part as they tumbled to a comfortable spot, Barnabas’s trousers kicked off and abandoned. His friend’s mouth latched greedily onto a nipple as Barnabas’s hands grabbed at the muscles of his back. His cock was level with the rough material of the bandage, the friction uncomfortable but ignored as his friend found the spot between Barnabas’s collarbone and shoulder blade, making him gasp.

 

His friend leant over him, casting a shadow that contrasted against the white of the clouds in the bright blue sky. Barnabas reached up to brush the bruises that marred the silky skin and his friend leant in to nibble Barnabas’s own pale flesh. Barnabas buried his hands in short, dark hair and encouraged him lower. He could feel the smile against the soft skin of his stomach and found himself encouraged. He stroked the sensitive scalp and teased the small ears, making his friend shiver as his enthusiastic mouth continued its exploration.

 

His breath hitched at the first brush of his friend’s lips on his penis, which throbbed for attention. Last night’s train of thought seemed decades ago; he hadn’t been lonely here, but god, he felt like Crusoe finding Friday now, the relief in having company. The unexpected absence of guilt as his friend beamed at him and made little noises of pleasure as he licked Barnabas’s erection. His tongue was small and pointed and a bright, startling red. It ran up and down Barnabas’s shaft, tasted his precum, and teased his balls. He seemed disinclined to take Barnabas in his mouth, but continued his delicate explorations, moaning almost as much as Barnabas.

 

Barnabas groaned and arched towards him, pressing his penis against his friend’s cheek. Strong hands gripped his hips and forced him back down, an amused shake of the head reprimanding him for being too eager. He’d forgotten the want of it, the need, and he clutched at the tough grass to keep from grabbing his friend. He saw the muscles in his friend’s arms tense as he was held down but the firmness of his grip still had a playful air, and Barnabas twitched as he was tickled.

 

The long fingers stayed low on Barnabas’s body, starting on the bones of his pelvis where there was little flesh between skin and bone. Barnabas’s stomach convulsed enough to bring him almost to sitting. His friend pushed him back down with a hand on his chest and applied both hands to his navel, tickling fiendishly. Barnabas squirmed and giggled and held his hands up in breathless surrender.

 

His compliance was rewarded with by a hand gently pushing his penis to one side and a flurry of kisses on his scrotum. He moaned, the sound leaking from somewhere that felt like it was beneath his diaphragm, deep in his belly. His friend reacted to his wordless plea and took his balls in his mouth, his teeth present but not grazing as he sucked gently. Sticky precum escaped from Barnabas’s cock and his friend turned his attention to it. He licked Barnabas clean and licked his lips, the expression so satisfied and sexual that Barnabas’s cock dribbled more. He ached now and wanted to seize his friend and force that perverse mouth around his cock, but he restrained himself.

 

Licking him clean again, Barnabas’s guest began to work his way back up Barnabas’s body, tongue tracing a hot, wet path from his pubic hair to the fair stubble around his jaw, visiting his navel and both nipples as it went. Slowly he lowered himself on top of Barnabas, and Barnabas became aware of his friend’s own hot, thick erection. It pressed against his and Barnabas bucked up into the smooth angle of his friend’s thigh.

 

They ground together, a rolling, wave-like rhythm. The distant sea pounded irregularly against the cliffs, every seventh wave longer and louder, and the wind hissed through the grass around them. They were slick with sweat and Barnabas slid easily against his friend, fingers clutching at his buttocks and holding him close. They had been kissing but as his friend began to thrust harder against him their mouths broke apart and his friend buried his face in Barnabas’s shoulder, clutching at his arms with bruising fingers.

 

Barnabas’s hips jerked upwards and he felt his friend shudder and come against him. Hot and sticky joined the smooth sweat, and Barnabas groaned and drove hard against his friend’s hip, coming with a startled gasp.

 

He lay still, panting so hard his friend visibly rose and fell. His fingers were still tight around his muscled buttocks, though his friend’s grip on his arms had relaxed. Slowly, his friend slid off him, face still tucked against Barnabas’s neck. Barnabas rolled onto his side and slung an arm around his friend, who snuggled close.