26. Epilogue

26

Epilogue

S now fell outside the window.

Earlier, Alfie had sat outside under the porch and listened as it landed. A blanket of white stretched out in front of him, and in the far distance, mountains erupted from it. There were reindeer, specks of them on the white canvas that huddled then dispersed. Nate had pulled him in from the cold, fussing over Alfie and wrapping him up in his arms.

Alfie had sunk into his embrace, releasing a tension that had wormed its way into his bones since the day Nate rescued him from the prison van.

They wouldn't be here unless Nate thought it was safe.

Alfie had exhaled against Nate's chest, letting himself go boneless for a few minutes before stepping back outside with Nate to help unload the car.

They'd arrived that morning, unpacked, then collapsed into bed and slept a solid eight hours.

That had been the morning, but now it was evening.

It was dark outside.

The sun had gone down a long time ago.

Everywhere in the cabin was cool, everywhere except where Alfie currently was.

The fire crackled, spitting out red sparks, and the flames danced, swaying left to right when the wind blew against the top of the chimney. But the heat, and Alfie's proximity to it, was not the reason he was feverish. He shook, trembling.

A layer of sweat covered his skin, and he panted as his eyes rolled back in his head. Nate had told him their fantasies weren't just that, they were futures too, and there was one he was eager to turn into a reality as soon as possible.

They escaped to Europe, and with the money Nate had hidden away under different names, he took them north. Alfie blindly followed, conscious of their names being announced from TV sets and printed in newspapers.

They kept their heads low, avoided well-populated areas and didn't stay in one location for too long. It wasn't easy. There were close calls. But Alfie trusted Nate to take care of him like he'd promised to, and when they stocked up on supplies and travelled deeper into the wilderness, he should've realised where they were going.

He gasped, rubbing his cheek against the rug. It was soft and thick, which was a blessing. He'd been on his knees for hours with a hand between his shoulder blades keeping him down. Alfie would've clutched the sheepskin beneath him, but his wrists were tied together, fingers interlocking and squeezing when the sensation got too much.

He needed to come apart, but every time he got close, every time he started to go over, Nate sensed it and pulled back. He kept Alfie teetering on the edge.

"You like that, Freshman?"

Nate's voice was low, and his breathing hitched, slightly erratic as he kept himself in check. Alfie had glanced back once and seen the heat in Nate's blue eyes, the absolute focus in his expression as he held his own desire back to give Alfie what he needed.

Alfie could only nod. With the side of his face pressed into the rug, he heard the rustle against his ear, and when he stopped, the rapid thump of his heart filled the silence.

It was a different kind of thump, not laced with fear, but with need and urgency, and the feeling that release was right there , but Nate was keeping him from it.

The whole time they'd been on the run, Alfie had been unable to relax. Sleep evaded him, and he tensed at the smallest of sounds, but when the cabin had appeared on the horizon through their Land Rover windscreen, he'd pinched himself, thinking it was all a dream.

Nate had noticed. Nate had heard Alfie's gasp and seen him nipping the skin on the back of his hand between his thumb and forefinger.

"Freshman," he'd whispered, taking Alfie's hand. The vital hand that had proved what lay in front of him was real. He'd kissed the back of it, raised his eyebrow and delivered his trademark smug smile.

It wasn't a dream, and Alfie's fantasy was no longer that, a fantasy.

He was bound, on his knees, with the heavy weight of Nate's hand between his shoulders.

Sometimes it slid up and gripped the back of Alfie's neck.

Alfie moaned when Nate did that and arched his back to give more of himself to fingers, lips and teeth. He didn't care that he looked and sounded desperate, not when Nate himself was so desperate to give Alfie what he wanted.

The cabin was small, but it had all they needed. A kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom up a ladder overlooking the living space, and then there was the sofa and the all-important fire.

They'd put the necessities like food, clothes, and toiletries away.

Nate had lit the fire and told Alfie to take a shower.

He'd stepped back into the living room wearing one of Nate's hoodies and a pair of flannelette drawstring bottoms. It only took the sight of the rug laid down in front of the fire for him to get hard. Embarrassment had flared in his cheeks, but then he saw the hunger in Nate's eyes and the rope he kept wrapping and unwrapping around his hand.

They both needed this release.

Nate had told him to remove his clothes, and he'd not hesitated, not even for a second. Alfie approached him with his palms together, ready for his wrists to be tied.

"Are you sure?" Nate had asked.

"Yes."

At first Alfie had been hesitant, unsure, embarrassed for Nate to see him like that for real. Nate had staggered back as if pushed when Alfie had told him and growled out in a husky voice for Alfie to get down on his knees.

Alfie had dropped like a stone.

That had been hours ago.

Nate licked, and sucked, and pressed his lips against Alfie's hole. He pressed his tongue inside, and at first there had been resistance, at first Alfie had clenched, but hours had passed, and Nate's slow seduction had taken its toll.

Alfie had stopped feeling self-conscious and had begun doing things even his fantasy self hadn't, like push back against Nate's tongue and whimper for more.

Alfie's cock leaked pitifully from the tip. He wanted to rub it against the rug, but on his knees and bent over with his cheek on the rug, he couldn't do anything to get himself off. His bound arms were tucked beneath him, useless, just how Nate wanted them.

Alfie was at Nate's mercy, vulnerable, and exposed. He watched the flames dance and shadows jump before lubed fingers pushed inside to stroke him and his eyes shut again.

"You're doing so good," Nate whispered.

Alfie had given up talking a while back. He could only vocalise moans and groans, and his slack mouth stayed open so he could drag in air and pant it out again. By his lips, the rug was damp from his desperate breaths. He was getting dizzy, and he didn't know whether that was because of the pleasure, his hyperventilating, or a combination of both.

"I know the last few months have been difficult," Nate said, pumping his fingers in and out. Alfie was loose with Nate's spit and lube and the slow stretch. "But you've been amazing. The whole time you've been amazing."

Nate sank his fingers deep and pushed his thumb against Alfie's drawn-up balls. They were tight and tingling. He rubbed circles against them while twitching his fingers inside.

"I promise you things will get easier," Nate said, pulling his fingers out and adding a third.

He pushed them in and out a few times until a raw sob pulled itself from Alfie's throat.

"Shhh, someone might hear us," Nate said, then he chuckled, and Alfie thought of Larkwood, of cell 150 and their whispered conversations.

There was no one around for miles. It was all white snow and grey mountains and the ice on the lake. They could be as loud as they wanted, and they had all the time in the world.

Nate took his fingers out, and Alfie whined for him. He tried to sit up, but Nate kept him pinned.

"We're not done yet." Nate snorted softly. His voice was teasing, but Alfie heard the quivering in it, how much it was taking for Nate to hold himself back. "How did your fantasy end again?"

He leisurely stroked his fingers between Alfie's cheeks, humming like he couldn't remember. Alfie was too far gone to snap at him or form a decipherable answer. He shuffled on his knees and arched his back again to open himself up as much as he could for Nate.

"Oh, now I remember," he said, taking his fingers away altogether. "You wanted me to take you raw…"

Yes, yes, yes.

Tears stung the corner of Alfie's eyes. He nodded, and Nate lined himself up.

Nate gripped the back of Alfie's neck, and he responded, pressing his arse back.

It only took the sensation of Nate's cock filling him up so perfectly to set off Alfie's orgasm. He groaned, clenching down at the length inside him. It only enhanced the sensation. Everywhere Nate's lips, tongue, and fingers had stimulated squeezed around Nate's cock. Alfie turned his head, mashing his face into the rug as his cock squirted, hitting his knees.

Nate didn't move until Alfie's body relaxed a fraction, and when he did, when he started thrusting in and out, Alfie's eyes rolled into his head at his unfinished orgasm.

It caught him by surprise.

He made a choking sound and squeezed his linked hands.

Each push, each brush of Nate's cock against his prostate, made him squirt again.

Nate stopped pinning him and grabbed Alfie's hips as he chased his own orgasm.

He cursed, growling as he pressed his lips together. His thrusts became erratic, slower, and deeper, and when he finally came, he tipped his head back and moaned Alfie's name.

Not Freshman.

But Alfie .

They both panted and watched the fire for a few moments. It crackled, the wood popped and embers floated up before fading away.

Nate leaned over and kissed a path from between Alfie's shoulder blades to his nape.

"You okay?" he whispered against the shell of Alfie's ear.

Alfie managed to lift his head from the rug. Nate sat him all the way up. Head rush and pins and needles were a confusing combination, and Alfie leaned heavily against Nate's chest until both subsided.

"Alfie?"

Nate's voice pitched with worry.

"I'm okay," Alfie said. He swallowed. "More than okay."

Nate kissed his temple, then his cheek. He untied Alfie's wrists, then kissed them both. Alfie watched him with a warmth in his chest.

"At what point in your fantasy did we clean the rug?"

Alfie blushed, glancing down at the mess he'd made. He lifted his chin, determined to ride out his embarrassment. "I regret nothing."

Nate's smile faded. He looked at Alfie seriously, searching his eyes. "Really?"

Alfie knew they were no longer talking about the rug.

"Really," he said, cupping Nate's cheek. He'd grown his stubble longer, and he had a full beard. There were a few grey hairs camouflaged in the darkness. He looked into Nate's blue eyes, caught short by the uncertainty in them.

Alfie stroked his thumb over Nate's lips before taking his face in both hands and kissing him hard.

"Not one thing."

The end.