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Strangers on a train

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Strangers on a train

Strangers on a train

by laurel


Notes: This idea was sparked by a recent train ride. Of course mine are never this exciting!

Spoilers: AU, so none

The man smiled at him and nodded, the way that strangers do, when greeting each other. He nodded in turn.

"Hullo," he rasped.

He imaged meeting this man, clad in a suit, nothing off the rack of course for his size, and a predictably striped tie at a business dinner where the hostess would serve some exotic dish that everyone would fawn over, the argument with the caterers would be muted by the swinging kitchen doors and they would speak politely over the hors d'oeuvres and sparkling wine.

But after dinner, when everyone was full and slightly drunk (well oiled his father would describe) then the man would be loosened by drink and feel lulled by a sense of success after all the talk at dinner, business proposals made, rivals conquered, contacts made.

The jazz would play in a smoky way, wafting over everyone's heads like cigar smoke from the men's stogies, a little saxophone would blare and then change into the tinkling of a piano and in turn switch to Edith Piaf who longed for better times in Paris.

Her voice would make everyone a little melancholy so the hostess would quickly tune to Peggy Lee, something snappy but jazzy that smacked of nineteen sixties' love fests.

What happened after dinner when everyone drifted home like lost sheep finding their way back to the farm would be a much better dessert than that collapsing souffl.

"You here on business?" right on cue, the stranger asked.

"Yes." Alex smiled politely. "Actually a little pleasure too."

"All work and no play, as the saying goes."

"I'm Alex."

"Walter."

The grip was firm, his thumb caressed Alex's hand for a moment before letting it go.

"Business trip?"

"Yes, hence the noose." He pulled at the brown and gold striped tie. "I just came from meeting some clients. I'm on my way to a conference now."

"Are you getting off at the next stop?"

Walter held his gaze for a moment longer than nodded. His eyes danced merrily with the double entendre. "That depends."

"Oh?" Alex caught the meaning and smiled his own sly grin. "I have a sleeping berth. Have you had dinner yet?"

"I was just thinking of going to the club car."

They went to dinner and began to chat amiably. First the talk was of business, the way men usually spoke. Then the conversation turned to home towns and childhoods and family.

Alex's leg rubbed against Walter's under the table. "Sorry," he apologized but didn't move it.

Walter smiled behind his wine glass.

They lingered over dessert long after the car was deserted save for the discreet porter who pretended not to notice the two men leaning their heads into each other and smiling and laughing as they flirted.

The lights flashed in the dark night as the train sped on its inevitable journey, bathing the cars in alarming red. They had a final drink before getting up from the table.

Walter's smoky gaze stayed on Alex. They reminded him of the chocolate sauce on their dessert.

"So you off to bed?" he asked in a slow, low voice.

"Yeah, time to turn in. I suppose you'd fit," he mused. "I hope you didn't think I'd let you cram those long legs back into your coach seat."

"It is a rather difficult fit for me. Do you think you could accommodate me?"

The innuendo was thicker than cigar smoke.

Alex's breath came out as a pant or a strangled sigh.

Walter slowly rubbed his hand down Alex's chest until he reached his pants and the bulge there grew bigger and harder in his hand. He withdrew, took Alex's arm and led him down the aisle to the seeping compartments. Alex pointed his out, drew the curtain aide and they crawled into the darkness.

They undressed silently and quickly throwing clothes into a growing pile of fabric. Walter fumbled for him, finding his face with his mouth, caressing his jaw, following a blind trail down to his collarbone, to trace the criss-cross of bone until he reached his chest. He cupped his pectorals, squeezed a nipple until he got a grunt and squeal of protest.

Alex batted his hand away and began his own exploration. He found the strong jaw, ran his fingers over the dimpled skin of his face, slid the pads of his fingertips sensuously down to the thick neck and eventually into the curls of hair on his chest. Alex tugged at them experimentally. The pull was at the edge of pain and Walter stilled his hand on his chest.

He found Walter's mouth in the dim haze of light and sucked on his lips before he was pulled into a wet, deep kiss. It reminded him of something he'd seen in a documentary, a deep-sea plant sucked in with tender stalks that grasped its victim in its tendril embrace. That's what kissing Walter felt like-some tender trap, a thick tongue wrapping around his and slowly drowning. He moaned into his mouth, a sound that signaled release, surrender, need.

Walter pulled him closer, tightened his arms around the silky hair and measured the hips with his big hands. Alex crawled into his lap. He moaned at the slightly damp skin clinging hotly to his. He could feel his thighs, cock pressed at an angle against his belly, a nipple crushing into his chest.

He pulled him closer and two hands twisted in his hair. Alex whimpered at the rough tugs on his scalp but didn't mind and didn't complain. Instead he pushed closer, invading whatever personal space of Walter's that was left.

Walter pushed him down, never losing the hold on his mouth, and laid him out like a feast. His arms were spread wide, as were his legs until Walter could climb on him to get in between. Alex heard rustling sounds as Walter's hand searched his pockets for supplies.

Alex pulled him back down and spread his legs wider for Walter's access. Walter felt around and smiled at the spread eagle position Alex had adopted. He slicked up his fingers and gently searched for his hole.

Alex murmured at the touch of the thick fingers on his sensitive tissue. He groaned as one finger entered him. He arched his hips for more. Walter obliged with another digit.

Alex hummed his satisfaction. Walter bent down to take a nipple in his mouth. He rolled the nub between his teeth, licked the momentary hurt away, then bit into it again. He kept up the pace of his fingers and his mouth until Alex couldn't stop the involuntary moans.

When he was sure his lover was ready, he knelt between his thighs and slid his cock inside the loosened slick hole. Alex pumped his hips, eager to feel more.

Walter grunted, "You're going too fast. Slower," he growled.

"No I need you now," he whined.

Walter smiled in the dark. Alex could feel the smile, the laughter that was held in check at his obvious need but he didn't care.

"Fuck me already."

Walter's laughter died down at the request. "Ready?"

"Yeah," was the whispered reply.

Walter slowly bottomed out until he was flush with Alex's body. Alex pulled him down with his thighs so that he was prone on top of him. Walter licked up one ear and down into his throat.

Alex clutched his head tightly. "I love that," he whispered, and nuzzled at Walter's head in thanks. "Don't stop", he murmured when his mouth pulled away.

"This better?" Walter sucked a fleshy ear lobe before snaking a trail down his neck.

Alex giggled at the tickling. "Yes," he squealed in agreement.

"Shh, people are sleeping."

"Too bad for them."

"Silly people," Walter agreed.

"Fuck me harder," he entreated.

"On one condition."

"What's that?"

"You have to be quiet as a mouse."

"Scout's honor."

Walter fucked him hard enough for Alex to wonder if it was Walter's hips powering the train and making it slam back and forth.

He kept the sound down to a swallowed keening noise that could be blamed on the train. The odd squeal or moan was drowned out by the whistle. It was a lonely sound to most people but not to Alex. He loved the train, loved the sound, the controlled chaos of metal on metal that could at any moment just fly off the rails.

Their climax wasn't exactly muffled. Walter prayed for a whistle but got none so they disturbed some of the sleepers. He only hoped they weren't too unhappy at being woken. And sometimes a train going through a tunnel wasn't suggestive.

Alex ran his hands over Walter's back as they lay sated and gasping for breath, marveling at the tight muscles now unclenched. He could feel Walter reaching out for something again.

The man pulled out a travel size pack of wet-naps. They were great for cleaning up plus they smelled lemony fresh. Alex sighed happily and cuddled into Walter's embrace after they were both cleaned up.

The train sped on, oblivious of anything but its path. In its case it wasn't the journey but the destination of its passengers that was the priority.

But in Alex and Walter's case the journey that had brought them together had only just begun.
 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to laurel