of reddish hair leading from his navel to his pubic thatch. Personally, Martin thought his own fine-haired limbs and nearly-hairless chest were a bit childish. Henry was manly without being beastly, and Martin loved running his fingers through Henry’s hair, every bit of it.
When Martin returned with his cloth and basin, Henry was lounging on his side, watching for him to come back through the door, and greeted him with a bashful smile, ducking his head to hide his blush. Martin was full of such love for him, a sense of melting helplessness, and felt almost frantic in his desire to keep Henry for himself. He made an effort to seem calm, to seem rational. Henry was his, now and maybe forever.
As he washed Henry’s body, he tried to communicate his love and devotion through his touch, through the small motions of his arms and wrists as Henry shifted and arched beneath him.
“Martin?”
“Hmm?”
“When you—” Henry began, then hesitated and cleared his throat. “When you were with Richard, you were usually on the bottom, too, weren’t you?”
Martin wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about Richard just now, but didn’t think this particular question could go sour. “I liked to be on the bottom,” Martin told him. “With everyone. You know I had to be on top sometimes for training, but that wasn’t my preference.”
He did not think he would ever tell Henry, because he suspected Henry would not find it reassuring, but Richard had not actually been Martin’s best sex partner at Ganymede. Martin had been in love with Richard, and he had wanted sex with Richard the most because of it, but in terms of physical compatibility, he’d had the best sex, the most successful sex, with Georgie. Of all the Ganymede boys, only Georgie had ever made Martin come without touching his cock, and Georgie had also been the best at playing dirty, bossy games. Martin had always had such fun with Georgie.
But without a doubt, he preferred Henry.
“I guess I did know that,” Henry said. “What we just did, though…you did like it?”
Martin smiled as he put his basin aside. “Of course I did. You didn’t really need to ask. I think you could tell.”
Henry smiled, too. Shyly, he offered, “You seem so… manly when you’re on top.”
Martin laughed. “How do I seem the rest of the time?”
Henry blushed. “No, no, I don’t mean anything bad. I always know you’re a man. I love that you’re a man. It’s just…” his voice trailed off and he looked at Martin with apologetic eyes.
Martin knew what he meant, though. “Putting your cock in someone else’s body is a very manly action,” he said. “Nothing ladylike about it.”
“There’s nothing ladylike about any of it, though, is there? Even on the bottom.” Henry stretched and opened his arms to Martin.
“No, I don’t think so,” Martin agreed, fitting himself into Henry’s embrace. “A woman’s body isn’t the same, after all, and I’m sure it feels very different for her.”
As if it had just occurred to him, Henry said, “Oh! Men and women have sex like we do, too, don’t they? Back instead of front.”
“Yes, of course. I don’t know what’s in it for the woman, though. Women don’t have the same gland inside.”
“Having any kind of sex with a woman, you’d never know what she was feeling,” Henry mused. “You might know if it felt good or not, but nothing more.”
“Well, maybe someday you—” Martin began.
Henry squeezed him hard. “No, Martin. Shut up. I don’t want to hear about my wife.” His tone had a hint of warning, but he laughed and kissed Martin’s forehead. “I like that our bodies are the same,” he said. “I love that I feel something like what you feel when I do these things to you. It’s what seems natural to me,” he admitted. “Sex with a completely different kind of body seems a little gross.”
Martin worked not to show his disdain for this opinion. Henry was entitled to his feelings, however
When Martin returned with his cloth and basin, Henry was lounging on his side, watching for him to come back through the door, and greeted him with a bashful smile, ducking his head to hide his blush. Martin was full of such love for him, a sense of melting helplessness, and felt almost frantic in his desire to keep Henry for himself. He made an effort to seem calm, to seem rational. Henry was his, now and maybe forever.
As he washed Henry’s body, he tried to communicate his love and devotion through his touch, through the small motions of his arms and wrists as Henry shifted and arched beneath him.
“Martin?”
“Hmm?”
“When you—” Henry began, then hesitated and cleared his throat. “When you were with Richard, you were usually on the bottom, too, weren’t you?”
Martin wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about Richard just now, but didn’t think this particular question could go sour. “I liked to be on the bottom,” Martin told him. “With everyone. You know I had to be on top sometimes for training, but that wasn’t my preference.”
He did not think he would ever tell Henry, because he suspected Henry would not find it reassuring, but Richard had not actually been Martin’s best sex partner at Ganymede. Martin had been in love with Richard, and he had wanted sex with Richard the most because of it, but in terms of physical compatibility, he’d had the best sex, the most successful sex, with Georgie. Of all the Ganymede boys, only Georgie had ever made Martin come without touching his cock, and Georgie had also been the best at playing dirty, bossy games. Martin had always had such fun with Georgie.
But without a doubt, he preferred Henry.
“I guess I did know that,” Henry said. “What we just did, though…you did like it?”
Martin smiled as he put his basin aside. “Of course I did. You didn’t really need to ask. I think you could tell.”
Henry smiled, too. Shyly, he offered, “You seem so… manly when you’re on top.”
Martin laughed. “How do I seem the rest of the time?”
Henry blushed. “No, no, I don’t mean anything bad. I always know you’re a man. I love that you’re a man. It’s just…” his voice trailed off and he looked at Martin with apologetic eyes.
Martin knew what he meant, though. “Putting your cock in someone else’s body is a very manly action,” he said. “Nothing ladylike about it.”
“There’s nothing ladylike about any of it, though, is there? Even on the bottom.” Henry stretched and opened his arms to Martin.
“No, I don’t think so,” Martin agreed, fitting himself into Henry’s embrace. “A woman’s body isn’t the same, after all, and I’m sure it feels very different for her.”
As if it had just occurred to him, Henry said, “Oh! Men and women have sex like we do, too, don’t they? Back instead of front.”
“Yes, of course. I don’t know what’s in it for the woman, though. Women don’t have the same gland inside.”
“Having any kind of sex with a woman, you’d never know what she was feeling,” Henry mused. “You might know if it felt good or not, but nothing more.”
“Well, maybe someday you—” Martin began.
Henry squeezed him hard. “No, Martin. Shut up. I don’t want to hear about my wife.” His tone had a hint of warning, but he laughed and kissed Martin’s forehead. “I like that our bodies are the same,” he said. “I love that I feel something like what you feel when I do these things to you. It’s what seems natural to me,” he admitted. “Sex with a completely different kind of body seems a little gross.”
Martin worked not to show his disdain for this opinion. Henry was entitled to his feelings, however
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