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Learning to Dance

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James Conrad and Reg Slivko had always had an… odd air between them.  At first it seemed like your average power imbalance: Reg was a bit starstruck with James, James found Reg rather amusing, and all seemed more or less normal, if not necessarily comfortable.  Then James saved Reg’s life, and then Reg saved everyone’s lives, and it got a bit stranger after that.  Once the survivors made it back to the aircraft carrier and set sail for home, everyone was celebrating, but when Conrad and Slivko hugged, it lasted a little too long.  For the first few days, it seemed like one of them was always staring at the other, then the staree would catch the starer, and the starer would look away, but then look back, and it kept repeating and to be perfectly honest, Conrad was getting pretty damn sick of it.  Reg seemed satisfied with their friendly relationship, which was driving Conrad absolutely nuts.  How could Slivko not recognize that there was something else going on here?  James had always been perceptive, but now he wasn’t sure if his wishful thinking was clouding his judgement.  On the one hand, James had seen plenty of men engaging in all sorts of nefarious activities throughout his 10-or-so years as a regular at gay bars all over the world, so he knew that the odds weren’t impossible that Reg was also a homosexual.  But on the other hand, he really wasn’t interested in being outed just because he’d been dumb enough to confuse gratitude for having one’s life saved with the desire to have a bloke up your arse.  

James sighed and ran his hands over his face, as if he could rub away the seemingly-endless inner monologue that had been plaguing him since he started this suicide mission.  God, he was starting to feel like a little girl plucking at a daisy: He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.   Although it was less about “me” and more about “men.”  

James’ train of thought was interrupted by the sound of music coming from downstairs.  This was rather typical: The boys’ barracks were just below him, and Slivko’s beloved record player had miraculously survived the mission.  However, it wasn’t the sound of music that was out of the ordinary, it was the music that was playing… it sounded like swing, hits from the 1940s.  Curious, James got up from his desk, exited his (private, thank god) room and descended the stairwell to the barracks.  There, he found Hank dancing around the hall while a Count Basie record spun on the player and the boys watching in confusion, to say the least.

“Trying to teach them how to dance?” James asked, leaning against the doorframe.  The boys looked at him hoping for a savior, but when Hank nodded, James instead offered to help.  They didn’t seem to appreciate that much.

“You can dance?” Reg sounded so shocked you’d have think Conrad had announced his ability to grow wings and fly in the air.

“I’m not sure this watch-and-learn method is going to work, Lieutenant,” James said, ignoring Reg’s question. “If they’re going to learn how to dance they’ll have to actually do it.”

“Yeah, that’d be better, but… there aren’t any girls around.” Hank replied disappointedly.

Based on the looks he was getting from Hank and the boys, James figured that the girls that were around, Weaver and Lin, probably already got asked and probably responded unfavorably.

“Oh nonsense, girls aren’t necessary for learning to dance!  Now who wants to go first?”

“I want to try!” Slivko piped up relatively quickly.  He stood up excitedly but then drooped a bit. “Wait, but do I have to… doesn’t one of us-”
“It’s fine, you can lead.” James nodded.

About 3 seconds ago, dancing the woman’s role in a ballroom dance sounded like torture to the boys (and Hank), but now it suddenly seemed so badass.  Something only somebody as tough as James Conrad could pull off.

Reg approached Conrad hesistantly at first, but a friendly smile from James seemed to encourage him enough.  They stood there, facing each other, saying nothing for a bit too long.
“You’ll need to put a hand on my waist, Slivko,” James prodded.

“Right, sorry.”

James slid a hand onto Reg’s shoulder and used his other to grab his free hand.  It wasn’t until about right then that James realized how ridiculous this was, but he decided he was too far in now.

“Alright, now just follow my feet, like this, see?” James guided Reg slowly through the motions until he seemed somewhat comfortable.  After a minute they sped up, matching the rhythm of the song and actually having a decent time.  Soon enough everybody was enjoying watching them dance.  Reg seemed to pick it up naturally, spinning James around and pulling him closer.

“Dip me,” James stated after a few minutes.

“What?” Reg’s eyes widened.
“Dip me!  You can do it.”

And he did, and it was fun- exhilarating, really- and Reg had a big smile on his face (normal) and James had a big smile on his face (abnormal), until Reg looked confused.  And then he looked bored.  And then he looked sad.  James’ smile dropped.  Solemnly, Reg pulled James out of the dip and stepped away.

“This is silly.  I don’t even like dancing.” Reg looked nearly as heartbroken as James felt.  James just stood there for a moment, before walking over to the record player and turning it off.  The song slowed and then stopped.

“Enough for today, I suppose.  I have work to do.  Nice to see you, lads.” James quickly walked out of the room and up to his own, feeling oddly embarrassed.  He showered for a long time, trying to wash away the peculiar feeling he’d been left with, but ultimately failed.  He crawled into his too-small bed and wished he’d never investigated the music playing downstairs.

No, that’s not fair, he thought to himself, it was nearly worth it.  Sure, he made me look like an idiot, but he was so happy before.   Conrad couldn’t help but smile remembering how happy Reg looked and how good he was at dancing.  He was the only one willing to try- yet another example of Slivko’s immense bravery, admittedly a different kind of bravery than the one he exhibited on the mission.  Conrad even laughed to himself when he remembered how flabbergasted everyone was when he let Slivko lead.  Then he stopped laughing.  Not because he wasn’t happy, but because he was hard.  He had no memory of this happening but all of a sudden it was there and it didn’t make much sense.  He knew he had a bit of a crush, but my God, is a memory of ill-fated ballroom dancing all it takes to get him going now?  It’d been a while since Conrad had had much action- pickings are slim in Vietnam- but that was hardly enough to justify having the erectile reactivity of a teenage boy all of a sudden.

Slivko’s only 20.  He probably gets hard this easily, Conrad thought before he could stop himself.  His cock twitched and he figured he had to do something about it.  Reluctantly, he reached down and pressed a hand to himself through his sweatpants.  God, it felt good, but he felt so bad about it.  It wasn’t the fact that he was having thoughts about a man that made him feel bad- Conrad had spent many years coming to terms with that part of himself- it was just that it was this man.  Boy, really.  A boy forced to be a man by circumstances.  Conrad had been perfectly satisfied by anonymous sex in dingy clubs (“clubs” being a fancy term for basements, usually) since he was 17 and he didn’t see any need for that to change.  Sure, he’d thought about how it might be nice to have somebody to talk to about everything, to hold, to wake up next to… The idea of waking up next to Slivko suddenly forced its way into Conrad’s mind and his cock twitched again.  

Heavens, what is wrong with me?   Conrad refused to accept the idea that his attraction to Slivko was more than physical.  So, he forced himself to think only about superficial things while he wanked, like how Slivko would look in the shower, or Slivko on his knees, or Slivko on his hands and knees, or Slivko fingering himself…

Conrad never ran out of compromising positions to put fantasy-Slivko in, but after a frustratingly-long time, Conrad wasn’t getting very far.  He knew that the hyper-sexual fantasizing wasn’t going to finish him off, but he still tried for a while longer before letting his mind linger to sweeter moments: Slivko’s relaxed expression when he listens to rock n’ roll, Slivko’s laugh, Slivko’s voice when he’s a bit tipsy, the way Slivko looked at him when they were dancing, the way Slivko looked at him that first night back on the ship, the way Slivko looked at him when he chose to turn on the Colonel and save their lives…

Conrad was getting angry now.  Not only had he humiliatingly wanked to sweet memories, but it wasn’t even working.  He was so close, on the edge practically, but he couldn’t finish.  Every good thought was interrupted with the crushing reminder that Slivko was just a soldier impressed by Conrad’s rank and skill.  

He probably only agreed to dance with me because he felt like he had to, Conrad sighed internally.  He continued to torture himself with what he figured to be the harsh truth of Slivko’s heterosexuality and eventually managed to fall asleep (still nursing a half-boner, of course).


Reg woke up angry.  He’d gone to bed angry, too, but he’d figured then it would fade.  He was angry at Conrad for making him look like an idiot.  He was angry at Hank for always acting like an idiot.  More than anything, he was angry at himself for being an idiot.  

Reg seemed to get things wrong a lot.  He’d never done well in school.  He got yelled at the most of anyone in his unit (or squadron, probably) during Basic.  He got punished often during the war for making stupid decisions- sparing people, denying orders, going back for lost comrades.  After his decision to turn on the Colonel and save Kong went relatively well, he got a bit cocky it seemed, because now he was being more wrong than ever.  Wrong about how men are supposed to behave, wrong about how other people feel, wrong about what “dancing practice” means (it obviously means “dancing practice,” and nothing more, doesn’t it?).  He was wrong about Conrad and Weaver, and after insinuating their relationship got a rather rude awakening (a slap from Weaver, that is).  They were only four days into the twenty-day journey back (there wasn’t enough funding for planes on the way back, so they were taking the aircraft carrier the whole way), and Reg had already managed to make several bad decisions.  And whenever Reg made a bad decision, he thought back to the worst decision he’d ever made: asking his father why boys don’t marry boys when he was 11.  That was the beating of his life, and he’d be damned if he ever forgot it (literally).  Reg decided war was a productive way to apply his anger that he’d carried ever since, but it never worked.  Instead, his anger turned to sadness, his sadness turned to weakness, his weakness turned to constant pain.  That pain had assuaged a little when Conrad was around.  He was powerful but kind.  It was the first time Reg had met a leader who wasn’t cruel.  And suddenly being brave wasn’t so hard anymore, and Reg started to feel like the person he was before that beating.  Except now he was a man- a young man, sure, but still a man- and as a result he had… needs.  Cravings he couldn’t explain.  They started out relatively innocent, or at least not explicitly sexual; He found himself desperate for Conrad’s approval, wishing Conrad would touch him more, trying to find ways to make Conrad smile.  Then it got a bit more… unrealistic.  He watched Conrad shave one night on the island and wished he wouldn’t because he liked the stubble.  He stared at Conrad’s ragged clothes for inexplicably long periods of time.  That first night on the ship they kept looking at each other and he was a little drunk and he thought about it over and over again in bed trying desperately to keep quiet.

He’d known it was probably worth keeping secret before but now he knew this was serious cause for concern.  In that moment when he dipped Conrad, he felt a rush of affection so great that he felt like he’d lived for the first time in years.  It was terrifying.  Even forgetting that Conrad was a man (which was impossible to forget anyways), Conrad was twice as smart as him, ten times as important, twenty times more attractive… there was a snowball’s chance in hell of any reciprocated feelings.  Conrad probably knew how Reg felt since he’d been so obvious about it, even before he volunteered to dance with him.  And what did good ol’ Captain Conrad do?  Did he let him down easy?  Did he tell Reg to snap out of it and rip off the band-aid?  Nope, he sauntered in the room with his stupidly-tight shirt, put his big, strong hands in his pockets and leaned on the doorframe like the sexy asshole he is.  And when they danced, Reg realized a lot of things at once.  He realized why he’d stared at Conrad’s clothes (because he wanted to see them gone).  He realized why he thought Conrad and Weaver were an item (because any woman would want him).  He realized why he kept thinking about Conrad’s face at night when everyone else was resting peacefully (because he’s a freak and a moron).

Reg splashed his face.  Then he splashed it again.  He avoided looking in the mirror; He didn’t want to see himself right now.  Or maybe ever again.

He skipped breakfast.  He listened to his records over and over again but it felt like he was hearing them in a totally different way than before.  It felt like seeing an old friend from years ago, but not in a sweet or nostalgic way, more in a way that makes you feel sad and old and confused.  It reminded him a lot of the first few weeks in Vietnam.  He’d felt like everything he’d been told before was a lie.  Now, it was similar but a little different.  This time, he felt like everything he knew about himself was a lie.  Even though Reg was no stranger to embarrassing himself, it felt so much worse now.  


Conrad didn’t see Reg much that day.  He was kind of hoping that Slivko would just show up and act normal and then things would become normal as a result.  Instead, there was an emptiness to the air, like an unfinished sentence or a, well, like an interrupted song, which it exactly was in a way.  It wasn’t just Conrad, either, everybody was asking where Reg was.  When the other soldiers said he wasn’t feeling well, there was a collective sigh of disappointment.  Even if he didn’t believe it, everybody liked Reg.  It made sense, then, that Conrad had become so infatuated with him- plenty of people have nice bodies, but nobody was as kind or brave or generous as Reg.  Conrad had wanted to talk to Reg all morning, partially because he always wanted to talk to Reg, partially because he was still wound up from last night’s failure to release and somehow felt seeing Reg would make it better.  He figured that Reg probably didn’t want to see him (since he seemed to hate him so damn much all of a sudden) but his good will got the best of him.  Conrad left his breakfast unfinished and made his way to the barracks.  When he opened the door, Reg turned his head a bit to see who was there but then grimaced slightly and looked back at the ceiling.

“Slivko,” James announced.  Even though he didn’t say anything else, they both felt like he’d just said a lot.  A moment passed without a word.

“Slivko, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.  Maybe you should go to the infirmary if you’re si-”
“I’m not that sort of sick,” Reg interrupted.

Another moment passed.  James wondered if Reg meant what he thought he meant, but figured it was unlikely.

“Well, if you need anything… let me know.” Conrad simultaneously didn’t want to leave and couldn’t bear to stay.  He waited a moment just in case Reg would say something but he didn’t.  Conrad left without saying anything.


Reg eventually did eat, although it wasn’t until lunch, and it wasn’t much.  Everybody was quite concerned by that point: Nobody on the crew was quite as enthusiastic about meals as Reg.  Conrad stared at Reg the whole time, but Reg never looked back.  Twice between lunch and breakfast and once after lunch, Conrad had brought himself right on the edge but failed to climax, and each time it got worse than before.  He was starting to get desperate, and his wildly detailed and intimate fantasies were reflecting it.  Usually Conrad’s sexual imagination was practically a montage of miscellaneous sexy things, with no real coherence or theme.  Now, he was imagining entire intricate scenarios of seduction, teasing, begging, and lastly, raw, powerful fucking.  He imagined himself apologizing to Slivko for… whatever it is he did wrong.  Even though it made him feel better, it didn’t make him feel exactly good.  And of course, he still couldn’t finish.  He was getting angry now, and he got damn close to punching the wall until he heard Creedence Clearwater Revival playing downstairs.  He grunted and pulled up his pants, jogging down the stairwell and storming into the barracks.  He expected to find all the soldiers there, but Reg was alone.

“Could you turn that down?” Conrad demanded.

“What? I can’t hear you,” Reg replied smugly, both of them knowing full-well he could hear him.  Conrad walked to Reg, stomping the power button of the player with his foot on the way there. Slivko looked properly frightened now, and scurried back to the wall, but Conrad grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer.

“I’m getting real sick of this shit, Slivko.” Conrad growled.

“Wh...what shit?” Reg weakly responded.  Conrad pulled him closer only to push him into the wall again, just hard enough to get Reg to focus on his face.

“I don’t like leaving business unfinished.  I can’t finish anything else until I tie up loose ends.” Conrad’s glare bore into Reg’s eyes unrelentingly.

“What business?” Reg seemed genuinely confused.  Conrad sighed.

“I don’t like how our dance lesson ended before.  In fact, I hate it.  We’re going to do it again and you’re not going to act like a little shit this time.”

Reg looked surprised to say the least.

“Should I put on the old record?  From before?” Slivko asked quietly.

“No.  I don’t need it.” Conrad stepped back.

Reg hastily grabbed Conrad’s hand and placed a hand on his waist, not wanting to anger him further.  However, Conrad didn’t put his hand on Reg’s shoulder this time, he put it on his back, and forcefully pulled him closer.  Reg quietly gasped at the feeling of their bodies pressed together.  He willed himself not to become aroused, but it didn’t work well, especially when he felt a hardness near his belt that wasn’t his own.  Now it was Conrad’s turn to gasp, although it was a very different kind of gasp.  He swallowed and ran his hand down Reg’s back, feeling Slivko’s toned body shift under his touch.  It was enough to drive him insane.  Conrad pressed the side of his face to Reg’s, ghosting his lips against the shell of his ear.  Reg’s knees went a bit weak.

“Why are you so angry at me, Slivko?” Conrad whispered.

“I hate how you make me feel.” Reg responded surprisingly quickly.   I guess he spent a lot of time reflecting while he locked himself in here , Conrad thought to himself.

“How do I make you feel?” Conrad moved his head down to Reg’s neck, not quite kissing but still running his lips along Slivko’s skin.

“Stupid, and nervous, and confused.  And angry.” Reg was so quiet he was barely audible, but he felt so weak he wasn’t sure if he could talk any louder.  

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Conrad questioned, grabbing Reg’s hips with both hands and grinding his cock on his.  Reg let out a stuttered sigh and gripped Conrad’s shoulders tightly.  Conrad closed his eyes, lost in the feeling, and kept rubbing himself against Reg.

“Answer again, how do I make you feel Slivko?” Conrad’s voice in Reg’s ear was smooth but still intimidating.  Reg suddenly loved being intimidated.

“Warm,” Reg managed to force out.

“Where?” Conrad asked.  Reg stepped back a bit and placed his hand on Conrad’s stomach lightly.  He shivered a little; Conrad’s abdominal muscles were just as hard as all of him seemed to be.

“Here,” Reg whispered after a moment.

Conrad was left speechless by that.  It was such an innocent, intimate moment, and yet it turned him on even more (previously thought by scientists to be impossible).

“Slivko, I-” Conrad brushed Reg’s hair to the side with his hand, leaning in to kiss him, but his action and sentence were interrupted by the sounds of the boys returning from whatever shenanigans they had been up to.  Even when being discovered was on the line, Conrad had to force himself to step away.

“Captain-” Reg began, reaching out for him.

“Come to my quarters at midnight.  If you want this.” Conrad urged, backing away.  Quickly, he dashed out of the barracks, right as the other soldiers entered.


Both of them couldn’t even come close to sleeping that evening.  Reg’s mind was racing with all the ways it would go wrong.  Conrad was convinced Reg wouldn’t come at all.  But when midnight came around, Reg did arrive, wearing his tags and fatigue bottoms but no shirt.  Conrad, on the other hand, was still fully dressed, as well as sporting a pair of reading glasses (he’d picked up a book to try and distract himself from his anxiety).  Both of them took a moment to take in the other’s appearance.

“You sleep in your fatigues?” Conrad asked with a tone of amusement.

“I had no choice for so long, I sort of got used to it.” Reg smiled weakly, though even his weakest smile was warmer than your average beam of sunshine. “What are you reading?”

“The Odyssey, have you ever read it?” Conrad stood up from his desk, closing the book.  Slowly, he walked around towards Reg, who shook his head ‘no.’

“It’s a classic.  It’s about a man who returned from war, only to find that things aren’t so easy back home either.  He can’t trust people he thought he could trust… the god of the sea tortures him.  It’s fantastical, of course, but I’ve always found it surprisingly relatable.”  By now, Conrad had reached Reg, and gently ran his fingers through Slivko’s soft hair.  It was much easier now with the headband gone.

“Do you ever feel like that?  Like some sort of greater force is playing a trick on you?” Conrad’s voice was comforting, but still felt powerful.  Reg only nodded in response.

“How long have you known you were a homosexual, Slivko?”

Reg choked a bit at that.

“A little over a day, sir.”

Conrad laughed, in equal parts due to the response and the title.  He removed his reading glasses slowly and placed them on the desk.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” Conrad stepped even closer, their bodies flush, James’ hands roaming Reg’s shoulders and arms softly.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a bit nervous.” Reg was even quieter than before. “This is… perverse, isn’t it.”

Conrad lowered his head, placing gentle kisses to Slivko’s cheek, then his ear, then his neck, then his shoulder.  He didn’t answer for a long time.
“There’s nothing wrong about this.  There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Reg relaxed greatly when he heard that, letting himself melt a bit into Conrad’s soft touches.  They held each other tighter and Reg couldn’t stop himself from letting out little noises as Conrad explored his body.  When he couldn’t take it anymore, Reg let go of Conrad’s shoulders, grabbing his face instead and pulling him up from his position biting a mark into Reg’s chest.  As Conrad’s eyes met his, he suddenly got nervous again, saying nothing and standing perfectly still.  

“What is it?” Conrad asked, and it was his obsessions with Conrad’s gorgeous accent that convinced Reg to throw himself forward and kiss Conrad.  Slivko squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing at Conrad’s neck desperately.  Conrad held Slivko tightly, giving into the passion of the moment.  The kiss was fiery, filled with gasps and moans and grabbing at each other as if they couldn’t get close enough.  When Conrad felt Reg’s hardness pressing against his leg, he immediately reached down and rubbed his hand against it, eliciting Slivko to let out a loud moan.  After he heard himself, he shot up, suddenly torn out of the moment.
“What if they hear us?” Reg whispered urgently.

“They won’t, baby, it’ll be okay.” Conrad responded, pulling Reg back into the kiss and continuing to stroke him through the fatigues.  Reg ran his hands up Conrad’s chest, then down to the bottom of his shirt and tugged at it.  Conrad pulled away just long enough to take his shirt off, intending to return to the kiss afterwards, but before he could Reg was latching himself onto James’ neck, sucking and biting and licking and causing Conrad to stutter out a deep groan.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Conrad moaned, leaning his head back and searching blindly for Reg’s flies.  Reg kept running his hands along Conrad’s muscular chest and back, and Conrad managed to undo the button of Reg’s fatigues, lowering his zipper and exposing his cock.  The fact that Reg may not have been wearing anything under those fatigues this whole time drove Conrad crazy in a wonderful way.

Reg gasped as Conrad took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly.

“F-fuck, Captain,” Reg whispered against Conrad’s skin.  Conrad was so lost in the sensation of Reg’s heavy, throbbing cock that he didn’t even care that Reg called him “Captain.”  Reg broke away from Conrad’s neck to look down at his own cock in Conrad’s hand, like the concept was blowing his mind (which it was).  Conrad looked at Reg, finding his fascination rather endearing.  

“Do you like that?” Conrad asked sweetly.

“Yes, God, yes.” Reg closed his eyes, smiling a little.

“Touch me, please touch me, Reg,” Conrad pleaded quietly, and Reg moaned unintentionally hearing Conrad call him by his first name for the first time.  He quickly grabbed at Conrad’s flies, undoing them and lowering his pants and underwear just enough to set Conrad’s cock free.  Reg swallowed when he saw it; He’d never seen another one hard before, and it was so enticing.  He wasn’t sure what it was about it that was so great, but it made him feel weak and desperate (and a little nauseous).

Cautiously, Reg wrapped his hand around Conrad’s length and stroked all the way from the base to the tip and back.  Conrad shivered, keeping his right hand on Reg’s cock but running his left up and down Reg’s spine slowly.

“Is that… is that okay?  Am I doing it right?” Reg asked shakily.

“Yes baby, it’s so good, you’re so good.” Conrad wanted to close his eyes from the feeling but was determined to watch Reg succumb to pleasure.

They kissed again, and continued stroking each other, but just as Conrad felt Reg was getting close, he pulled away.

“I want more,” Reg said quietly, scanning Conrad’s form hungrily.

“What do you want?” Conrad asked, more than a little surprised that Reg wanted to go farther his first time with a man.

“I… I want,” Reg was already speaking quietly, but he lowered his voice to a whisper as if he was sharing a secret. “I want to fuck.”

Conrad smiled. “I think we can arrange that.”

Conrad stepped closer to Reg, and he looked happy at first, but then he looked concerned, and stepped back again.
“Wait, but doesn’t one of us have to… don’t we have to…” Reg sounded scared.  It broke Conrad’s heart.

“It’ll probably be easier for you if I… if you fuck me, this first time.” Conrad was eager to make Reg comfortable but didn’t want to establish a precedence of bottoming- he was still desperate to get inside of Reg as soon as possible.

“Is it… what’s it like?” Reg asked softly as they both removed their pants.

“It feels a lot like being with a woman.” Conrad figured that half-truth about topping would probably be the best way to calm Reg down, but instead Reg stayed nervous.

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied after a pause.

“Really?  So you’ve never-”
“No, I haven’t… is that a problem?” Reg suddenly became even more anxious.

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry, it’s not hard at all.” Conrad grabbed Reg’s hand and led him slowly to the bed, laying down on his back.  Reg climbed on top of him, examining his body carefully.

“I have to, um, prepare first.” Conrad reached under the bed and pulled out a small tub of lubricant.

“What’s that?” Reg asked innocently.  Conrad chuckled.

“It’s Vaseline, essentially.”

“Oh.” Reg said. The good half of napalm, Reg thought.

Conrad gathered a decent amount on his fingers and reached down to his entrance, lifting his legs.  Reg moved out of his way, watching enraptured.  Excited to move on to the main attraction, Conrad started with two fingers.  It burned a bit, but he’d managed worse.  He bit his lip to contain himself.  Though he closed his eyes, he could still hear Reg’s sighs and he could tell he was enjoying the view.  When he opened his eyes, Reg was holding his cock but kept his hand still, obviously trying to stop himself from coming.  It was adorable and it made Conrad’s own cock twitch excitedly.  Conrad accidentally brushed against his spot, gasping and clutching at the bedposts with his free hand.

“Are you okay?” Reg’s voice was concerned but he seemed confident that what just happened was good.

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” Conrad took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out and flipping onto his stomach.

“You can, now, if you want,” Conrad continued.

Reg took a deep, shaky breath.  Conrad figured he’d dive right in, but instead he took a moment and touched Conrad’s buttocks, spreading them apart and looking at his hole, shiny with lube.  

“I’m… I’m going to now.” Reg said softly.

“Please” was all Conrad said.

Slowly, Reg lowered himself so he was hovering over Conrad’s body.  He guided himself to Conrad’s entrance and pushed in carefully.  Conrad gasped and Reg sighed.  He pushed himself in further, catching his breath, and then finally sheathed himself fully in Conrad.

“Oh” was all Reg said.

Reg pumped himself in and out slowly, so slow that Conrad was close to begging for more.  Fortunately, Reg sped up before Conrad had to say anything.  It didn’t last all that long, and not a word was spoken, but somehow it all felt quite… powerful, is maybe the best way to describe it.  Reg reached up to brush Conrad’s hair out of his face, a gesture that demonstrated great consideration but also proved that Reg wanted Conrad, he wanted to see his face and know that this was happening with him.  The only sounds that filled the room were their uneven breaths and Reg’s tags jingling quietly.

Conrad knew from the erratic way that Reg began to thrust into him that he was close.  With a grunt and a tightened grip on Conrad’s side, Reg came inside of him and then relaxed.  They laid like that for a few moments, until Reg pulled out and noted with a sad tone that Conrad hadn’t finished.

“It’s okay,” Conrad began as he rolled over to his back, “it’s your first-”

Conrad was interrupted by Reg diving down and eagerly taking Conrad’s cock into his mouth.  Conrad let out a long moan, running his hand through Reg’s hair.

“Oh fuck, Reg!” When he heard his name, Reg looked up, meeting Conrad’s gaze and leaving him speechless.

Reg’s head was clearly that of a virgin, but it was so enthusiastic and he was trying so hard, it was pulling at Conrad’s heartstrings as well as creating a familiar tug in his gut.

“Fuck, Reg, I’m going to… fuck it’s so good, I’m going to-” Conrad tried to warn Reg but he didn’t stop, and soon he was spilling his load into Reg’s mouth.  Reg looked a little shocked but didn’t pull away, instead waiting for Conrad to finish with his lips wrapped around his cock.  When he was sure he was done, he pulled off gently, and swallowed.  

“Reg, oh God, that was… you didn’t have to do that.” Conrad was starting to get the feeling that most of the times in his life he’d been speechless were because of this boy.

“I know, I wanted to.” Reg cracked a smile, but then coughed.  Conrad pulled him closer desperately, encouraging Reg to lay down next to him.

“I can’t, if I stay here… I have to go back.” Reg looked nervous again.  Conrad sat up and kissed his neck gently.

“I know.  But you can stay a little longer.”

They laid together for a long time, though they didn’t talk that much.  Slivko started to doze off wrapped in Conrad’s arms, so eventually he had to be woken up and sent off.  Conrad hated to watch him go, but the sweet goodnight kiss they shared was almost worth it.