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The other lover

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The words on the page before him were starting to make less and less sense by the second now. A yawn escaped him and he was about to call it a night when he heard a light knock at his bedroom door.

Olrik frowned and set his book down on the bedside table.

"Come in, Francis," he called.

God, he was still not used to calling the Captain by his first name. It was so... casual, so strange.

The door opened slightly.

"I hope you don't mind; I know it's late..."said Blake as he let himself in, closing the door behind him.

"Not at all, old chap!" The Colonel did his best to make his voice sound friendly, welcoming even. "What brings you here at this hour?"

At that, Blake seemed to hesitate, looking at his slippers, his hands firmly tucked in the pockets of his gown. After a moment, he sat down on the bed, forcing Olrik to sit up in order to look at him.

"Well, I know you haven't been well lately..."

Here he goes again.

"I'm fine, Blake!" interrupted the Colonel, "Dr. Lévy even gave me a note saying I'm alright. I just need rest."

Blake raised his hands in a placating gesture "I know, I know, that's not what I meant, I... Well..."

"Yes?" pressed Olrik. He didn't like what he was seeing at all. The Captain was nervous and fidgety, seemingly not able to bring himself to just spit it out. In his situation, uncertainty was more than just a mild inconvenience. It could mean suspicion, questioning and ultimately blowing his oh-so perfect cover. The best he ever had if he could say so himself.

"To put it bluntly, Philip, I was hoping we could spend the night together."

Ah.

So that's what it was.

Olrik had never been quite sure about these two's relationship. Sure, it could have been purely platonic, but he always had a nagging feeling that it was something more. Well, now he knew for sure at least.

He stared at the Captain for a second, really taking him in his time. The surge of anger and disgust at having to be friendly with someone who had so often ruined his plans, had him arrested, put his life in danger and more, was burning. He pictured himself having to be intimate with Blake, about making him feel loved with Mortimer’s facemask on. Would he be able to push his acting skills that far? Wouldn’t he end up betraying himself? But at the same time not going through with this might end up being suspicious…

He took a deep breath to steady himself. Right now, he was tired and could just not muster the strength to pretend to be Philip Mortimer.

Just as he was opening his mouth to casually excuse himself, the words died on his lips as he watched the Captain’s hands travel to the belt of his dressing gown and untie it slowly, shaking. He watched in fascination as Blake let the garment slid off his shoulders and pool at the elbows in single movement before taking it off entirely. He reached up once more and undid the top button of his pajama shirt when the Colonel suddenly snapped out of his trance-like state. He reached out and grabbed Blake's wrist in a swift motion before the Captain could react.

There must have been something in his eyes, he thought because he could see the confusion in Blake's eyes soon followed by...sadness? Disappointment? He looked very vulnerable suddenly, not at all the formidable foe Olrik had to battle in the past. He could see Blake's cheeks starting to redden, and feebly pulled on his wrist to free it.

"I’m sorry Philip, I know you've been very tired these days... I didn't mean to impose, I just thought, well, it's been a while ever since we... well..." he said, fumbling with his belt, not looking up.

He was still trying to tie it when the Colonel let out a sigh and looked up at Blake. Could he do this? Could he really bed Blake of all people? Theoretically, he could, he had always swung both ways and was, deep down, quite proud of the fact.

But Blake? The epitome of British holier-than-thou? Always so rigid in his perfectly pressed uniform with his blond hair impeccably combed back. Just as he thought that a very different picture crossed Olrik's mind entirely. An exact opposite actually.

How would perfect Captain Francis Blake look like with his hair falling on his brow, sweat rolling down his back and thighs, and with his mouth hanging open, panting?

And just like that, the Colonel surprised the Captain into looking up, grabbing his wrist once more. Their eyes met and Olrik pulled Blake down with him on the bed, twisting to lay him down on his back beneath him. He let his other hand travel down to the gown's belt and undid it slowly, opening it to expose the blue fabric of the pajama. Blake freed his hand and shrugged off the garment, not breaking eye contact with the one he thought was Philip Mortimer as he propped himself up on an elbow and leaned in, letting their lips touch lightly for the first time in months. Or what he thought were mere months.

For Olrik, that was officially the first time they had kissed. He watched intently as Blake reached up and pressed his lips against his, tilting his head on the side a little. He stayed frozen for a second before responding in kind, deepening the kiss as he pushed the Captain once more against the mattress before crawling on top of him. They kissed until they could not breathe anymore, leaving them hungry for more. Blake brought his hands up to his collar and opened the buttons of his shirt, reveling in the intensity of the look he got in return.

"You are teasing", growled Not-Mortimer, the warning clear.

"What makes you say this, old chap?" he said as the last button popped open and the silky material of his shirt fell open, revealing the white skin beneath. "I just don't know what you are talking about."

Mesmerized by the sight before him, Olrik stared hungrily, almost not registering his own hand traveling up and undressing Blake. he let the shirt drop to the floor before lowering himself close enough to let his breath ghost on the Captain's skin, hot against the cool skin. He felt the pert rosy nipples against his lips more than he actually saw them. Tentatively, he gave one a flick of his tongue, only to almost get himself thrown off the bed in return and narrowly catching himself.

"Oooh! Ah... Oh! I'm so sorry! I just... didn't expect that!" Blake laughed, his eyes darting away before avoiding his gaze entirely.

Was Blake embarrassed by that? Weren't they, Mortimer and him, lovers already?

"Francis, look at me." he ordered.

Turning his head toward him, Blake looked peered from under the arm he had brought up over his face. Olrik pushed it aside, revealing a very red-in-the-face Captain Blake.

"Do you want this?"

"Yes, yes of course!", stammered Blake. "It's just still so new. I didn't mean to make you stop."

Oh, so it had not been that long! The cogs in Olrik's brain turned at full speed. This was good, actually very good, he mused. Blake will not be able to see any difference between Mortimer's lovemaking and his. They probably hadn't been going at it for long enough. If he went through with his plan and had to stick around for the time being, this little piece of information made a huge difference. This was a golden, once-in-a-life-time opportunity.

He was very much looking forward to shape Blake to him. They were going to have a lot of fun.

He lowered himself once more and brought his lips close to Blake's ear.

"Then don't close your eyes. I want you to see what I am doing to you." he whispered. He still held Blake's blue eyes in his as he flicked his tongue over once of those overly sensitive nipples, bracing himself for the response he got this time. Satisfied, he did it over and over, lapping at them one after the other until Blake was panting and squirming under him, all the while looking at him.

It was then that the Colonel became increasingly aware of another part of Blake which clearly required his attention. The Captain had been so responsive so far, if a little shy. He wanted to see how far he could go until he begged. Let Blake come to him. He took his time letting his hands travel south, brushing his fingers against the fabric of the trousers, pointedly ignoring the tent which had formed there. He could see how Blake's cock had already started spilling droplets of pre-cum, darkening the fabric where the head was.

Above him, Blake was panting slightly, spreading his legs to allow him to rest in-between.

"What do you want?" he asked as he lay there.

"Just a bit more... a bit more touch if you can."

"Of course I can but you will have to tell me where. I can't guess."

Blake turned a deep shade of red, his jaw clenched. It was most amusing to see the stoic Captain Blake like that.

"Take me in your hands, please."

Olrik smirked at that, "With pleasure Francis, but where exactly?"

He reached up and tweaked a nipple while letting the other hand slowly make its way down his stomach, resting there at the waistband, enjoying the warmth against the palm of his hand. He made a point in avoiding the still-trapped cock and running his fingertips oh-so close but not enough, never enough.

"Please! No more teasing! Just... please... Touch me, take my cock in your hand." It clearly took a great effort from him to utter these words, as Blake turned his face away from him. No, that will not do, thought Olrik.

"I will. As soon as you look at me, my dear." he said resting his head against Blake's thigh. The Captain turned his gaze once more toward him, shame written in his eyes. "That was good, Francis. Spread your legs for me. Look..."

He started slow, nuzzling his inner thighs, bringing his hands to his hips before letting the caresses drop down, his fingers giving him feather-lights touches along his length. A small whine escaped Blake as his hips jutted upward in small, minute movements. Taking pity on him, Olrik palmed him once, twice before bringing his face close and kissing the cock through the silky fabric, his tongue sticking out for a quick lick before working its way up to the tip. It rested there for a second before his mouth engulfed it, making it wet.

Slowly, he tugged at the waistband and brought the damp material down, completely undressing the Captain, revealing his member, proudly jutting upward and already as hard as a rock. 

Licking his lips, he spread Blake’s tights apart, exposing him before his eyes as he feasted shamelessly on the sight of this hard cock, head only half revealed but leaking already on the taunt white stomach which fluttered with quick, half taken breaths. He licked tentatively at the tip while lowering the foreskin as he lapped gently at the spot below the head, mapping out the other’s pleasure with every lick and touch of his lips.

He was delighted to hear the small intakes of air the Captain took, not quite moaning or panting but getting there…

Only when he felt that Blake had sufficiently suffered did he deign take him in his mouth, squeezing his length where his mouth wasn’t, taking more and more of the Captain until he felt him tremble, resisting the urge of driving his hips upward into the heat. Oh, he was precious! Holding himself in check, trying his best not to be too demanding but it was not what Olrik wanted to see. He wanted to see him crumble and come apart in his hands, he wanted to crack him open to reveal the lusty creature inside. He wanted to see him beg.

He took his time sucking and licking, taking him slowly at first before gradually going faster and deeper. Blake let out a deep moan and reached down to drag his fingernails hard across his shoulders and through his hair.

He lapped at the pre-cum at the tip and slowly withdrew, sucking the head before letting it go with an obscenely wet pop. He looked up to see Blake looking at him, clearly dazed, his fingers still tugging his hair and his breath short. Glancing down, Olrik saw that the pre-cum he had just licked clean was back and leaking down the length in lazy beads.

That was a good start. Let’s kick it up a notch, he thought.

“Francis?” he called out. “Would you be so kind as to hand me the lube?”

He had found it on the very first day in Park Lane when he was doing a thorough search and mental inventory of everything Mortimer owned. He had thought the Professor used it alone at night for his own pleasure, but he now knew its real purpose.

The Captain rummaged a moment in the drawer before pulling out a small bottle. He handed it to “Philip” with a worried frown.

“How do you want to do it?” he asked. “What should I do to…”

“Nothing.” cut the Colonel. “I want you to stay as you are. Lie down and spread your legs for me.” He added with a lopsided smile, enjoying the blush on Blake’s cheeks. But the Captain did as he was told and allowed for more space. Olrik grabbed a pillow and wedged it below Blake lower back, effectively exposing him to his eyes.

“Now, let me take care of you and try to relax.”

Squirting enough lube on his fingers, he got to work on the Captain, squeezing his length once more, hard, as he pressed his fingers lightly against his hole. He felt the ring of muscle flutter against his digits, and he gave a tentative push. The muscles resisted a bit but soon gave out, allowing a lubed finger in. He felt Blake tense immediately at that.

“Just a knuckle, Francis. Nothing more than that. Relax, old chap.” He forced himself to smile at Blake who laid there below him when what he really wanted to do was to bite him. That would come, in time.

“Philip… Oh!” Olrik drove his finger deeper in him when he heard that name. He would make Blake forget that name if he could help it!

He slowly worked him open. He was amazed at how well Blake took two and then three fingers. It felt as if his body was sucking him in, as if it desperately needed to be filled. Olrik looked up to see Blake with his eyes closed and his head thrown back. He started thrusting his fingers in a little only to be rewarded by a deep moan.

“Aaaah! More, deeper! Don’t stop, please!”, said Blake as he slowly rocked his hips down, trying in vain to fuck himself on Olrik’s fingers.

The Colonel grinned at this show of eagerness and withdrew his digits causing a keening, disappointed sound to escape Blake’s lips. He raised himself on his knees and grabbing the bottle once more, he made a show of lubing his length in front of Blake’s hungry eyes. His once blue eyes were black with lust as he stared and as soon as Olrik leaned on top of him, he grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, throwing his legs on either side of the Colonel, the message unmistakably clear.

“I’ve got you. I won’t let you empty too long.” He added with a smirk as he guided himself against Blake’s hole and pushed in.

He looked intently at the Captain’s face as he penetrated him. He wanted to remember to look of adoration and pure lust on his face as he filled him slowly and steadily until he could go no further, his balls flush against him.

 He stayed still, raised above Blake as he reveled in the heat around him. He could feel it pulsing, squeezing, tight around his cock. Before he knew it, he was rocking his hips in short, shallow moves which drew out delicious noises out of his partner. He angles his thrusts differently a few times until Blake yelped as Olrik’s cock head hit his prostate, making him see stars.

“Yes! There! Right there!”

Olrik smirked.

“Where? There?” he asked as he purposefully all but grazed the spot, lightly touching it only to withdraw, again and again and again.

“God, please! Don’t!” he begged, trying to angle himself right for Olrik. He needed it. He needed it as if it were air itself!

“I won’t. I’m not a cruel man, see?” With those words, he withdrew almost all the way out before filling him up again. He made sure to hit the spot head on. He took all that was offered between the creamy, white thighs spread before him and had to tighten his grip on his control in order not to come too soon as Blake completely lost himself then and there.

 

The man writhing below him was no longer Captain Francis Blake from the MI5. It was a blond man who looked like him but was actively fucking himself on his cock when he failed to move fast or deep enough for his taste. His face was contorted with pleasure, and he gasped for air in between thrusts, drawing small, lusty sounds from his lips.

Soon he knew which pace Blake liked the most. A long penetration, deep and slow would make him moan. Faster and he became a begging mess, reaching down to stroke himself, adding to the wet sounds of flesh. He wanted to see more of this man.

He withdrew without warning, Blake yelped in surprise before he flipped them over.

“I want to see you, Francis. Come here.”

Blake straddled him with hesitation, figuring out which position was best, what to do with his legs.

“Here, allow me to help you.”

He held himself in hand and pushed Blake down until he rested on the tip of his cock, a nudge and he felt himself engulfed once more by the heat of Blake’s body. He groaned loudly and looked up. Blake’s eyes were closed, his mouth hung open. He spread his knees and sunk even lower, taking the entire length in.

From there on he rode him slowly at first before picking up pace, stroking himself at the same time. Olrik could feel his thighs tightening around his hips and saw the tension on Blake’s face. He took it as his cue and grabbing the other by the hips, he thrust upward once, twice before Blake tensed and stopped, spilling himself all over Olrik’s torso and down his own hand with a long, drawn out moan.

Olrik followed suit, holding the Captain in place as he came hard and spilled himself inside him with a groan.

 

He was coming down from his high when he felt Blake fall on top of him, utterly spent and boneless. He caught him before he could roll off and held him in place, breathing in his scent.

What started as a quick rest to catch their breath turned into hours of sleep and dawn caught them both still in bed together.

Olrik woke up with a start at the feeling of someone next to him before remembering the night before. He kept his eyes closed, feeling Blake’s chest rise and fall against his side. His skin felt tight where their seed had dried, and he smiled as the image of Blake’s face in ecstasy came to him.

Yes, he could come to like this life after all.