Memoirs of a Russian
Chapter 2
by
Blu
Memoirs of a Russian is dedicated to all those scrabbling fans dying for some.
Please note that both characters in this story are of legal age.
What a fantastically sculpted, pure body of beauty the man had. The young man with blond hair and blue eyes and those thin but not too thin pale pink lips. In the water they turned to an even more pale hue, showing the crystalline presence of his eyes. I could hardly work my hand fast enough on the paper. I had to sketch him, to get him all down before the moment was gone and he realized someone was sitting on the embankment, and had been for several minutes, watching him in his private reverie of cleanliness.
His shoulder moved down and up gracefully with each movement he made, each gesture to wash a thigh or rub the length of an arm, or to cross over his glorious chest, smooth and brown with sun, an olive complexion that caught the rays of light and made him golden in the late summer heat.
Surrounded by tall oaks and maple, the high canopy of their boughs rustling overhead in the breeze of the deep afternoon, I felt like he and I were the only ones on the earth, for that time. Unfortunately, my bliss at sketching such a perfect form distracted me to the point that I failed to notice a dangerous predator lurking stealthily nearby. A slight hiss and the rattle of what sounded like tiny beads snapped me to attention.
I immediately stopped my sketching and scanned our surroundings for the noise, spotting a fat Rattler slithering down through the high dark grasses. I wouldn't have found it except that it paused in striking pose at the bottom of my embankment, waiting in the camouflage of the cool, soft mud at the water's edge. I set aside my pencils and paper as quiet as I could, and morphed into the steel of my codename.
There he sat, unaware he was being watched. My subject was still turned, further out from the shore but not so far as to be safe from the danger. I came upon his predator from behind, myself becoming a hunter. Hunting the hunter hunting the hunted. With reflexes honed from years of training in Xavier's Danger Room drills, and stealth learned from my friend the Wolverine, I circled my steel hand about the neck of the thing, choking it. Snakes, though, hardly die so simply. There was intense rattling, and it lashed its body around fiercely, whipping at me all the while. I felt none of it, though, wrapped in steel, and a focus as hard. Soon it was dead, and I threw it into the woods.
Turning to check on my subject, I found him standing in the waist-high waters with a blank expression on his face. If he was surprised that I showed up, he didn't show it.
"Thanks," he said simply, his slight southern drawl coming through with the word.
"Not a problem," I said, my thick Russian accent sounding like rocks next to his smooth voice.
"What are you doin' out here?" he asked me. I continued to stand at the edge of the water, not quite able to let my eyes loose from the smooth torso before them.
"I was looking for something to sketch, such a fine afternoon as it is," I answered, then went on, "I hope you don't mind too much, but I was sketching you."
"While Ah washed, you mean? Why didn' ya say somethin'?"
"I didn't want to ruin it - there is a certain purity in the unawareness one has when he is being watched and yet lives his life as he normally would. It shows more truth."
"Well, Ah can't say as Ah don't feel right 'shamed for it. I must look like an idiot standin' naked in this little river, enjoyin' myself." He gave a small embarrassed smile that could have melted my steel exterior.
"On the contrary, comrade, you look nothing so much as perfect." I morphed back to my natural body, then stood fixated a moment more. I realized this was unnerving him - I know I can be intense in my stare sometimes, especially when studying a form, but more so when that form has aroused me, as well. I quickly smiled and held out my hand. "I apologize."
"None needed," he grinned back. "That thing coulda bit me. You're welcome, in mah book. Ah should be thankin' ya." He stepped forward, wading perilously close to me in the shallow water, and I was more aware of his nakedness than I had been. He grasped my hand with a firm but friendly handshake.
"Sam."
"Piotr - but they call me Pete."
"Ah know of ya," he said, a grin spreading on his face as he pointed to me with a finger of his free hand. "You're a legend, mah friend! The Colossus! Man I knew ya'd be big, but I didn't think THIS big. Damn." He clapped his previously occupied hand to his head and let out a mock-chuckle.
I took this gesture in even as I noted with delight the rivulets of water running down his posed forearm and smooth pectoral muscle, over the slight ridges of a tight abdomen and down lower. I nearly forgot to reply, so engrossed was my artist's eye on the spectacle of plain water looking so ... unplain.
"Thank you - I, too, know who you are, Samuel. Once pseudo-leader of X-Force turned X-Man while I was away at Muir and now returned to the rogue squadron, a full-fledged leader. Quite impressive. I can see why you command, though. You have a certain ... way."
I couldn't be certain but I thought my compliment made him blush. The light made it hard to tell. I felt bad for it and I turned away, reaching for his towel along the shore.
"Thanks," he said as I handed it to him. I gave him some space, finally moving my form out of the water and back up the bank. I was soaked up past my waist, though, and needed to dry, so I took off the slacks - noting a fresh tear in them from my morphing - and then my shirt, and laid them on the ground. I would have taken off everything down to my skin, but Sam was looking rather awkward at what I had removed, so I decided on the part of propriety.
"Boy, they sure don't make them like that anymore."
"What?"
"I mean - I've never seen a ... a guy so big before."
"Oh." I gave a smile, pleased to be appreciated.
"Were you always so big?"
"I think so. In Siberia my family owned land. I worked hard even as a child. I enjoyed it, though. When I was 16, my mutant genes left me little chance at a normal life, and I ended up at Xavier's." Sam nodded at me while I spoke, really listening. It was a good feeling to have someone listen to me and not simply hear my words. I had forgotten that feeling, I think. Logan listened to me. "Of course, being at Xavier's seems to have an enlarging effect on some," I grinned.
"Yeah Ah noticed! I wasn't with the X-Men long, but, damn, some of them are so huge!"
There was a sort of casual innocence in him. That was what I had seen while I sketched. Yet I knew that he must not be so innocent nor naive as he seemed, to be a leader. It intrigued me. Intriguing me more was his body as he stepped out of the water completely and toweled himself off from the waist down. He didn't seem at all shy in my presence - not that he would. Being on a team, I got quickly used to seeing others exposed for various reasons. Sam no doubt had the same. I took the time to quietly asses what I couldn't have before. Smooth, finely haired thighs ran down long to the knees, then hard rounded calves met ankles neither too delicate nor too large. He balanced himself easily on one foot, though it amused me that he did catch himself on a tree stump once when he nearly lost it drying his underside.
After pulling on his faded jeans, he sat down next to me on the long grass. I was reminded of one of my first nights at the school, what seemed like a long time before, when Logan and I had sat out and looked at stars. The irony was a little distracting, but I had learned to forget Logan over time - or at least, not to hold in my feelings towards him.
Sam was gazing up at the clouds and chewing on a long-stemmed piece of grass. Looking thoughtful. I reached down to where I had dropped my drawings.
"Keep it," I told him quietly.
He looked over to me. "What?"
"Keep that pose - I want to sketch you, Sam."
He didn't ask any more questions, nor did he get up and leave. He closed his eyes for a bit and made some sighing noises, totally relaxed in the sunlight. As I drew his curves, shoulders and knees and chest and stomach, I became more and more aware of my own pleasure. I wasn't only drawing him. I could have been making love to him. My hands were on his neck first, then moving down, over his hips and around his waist, stopping to rub that perfect bulge between the thighs, then down to his feet, fingers gliding over skin and nail, massaging.
I stopped drawing and let out a sigh that could have only sounded one way. He must have noticed it because he looked over at me with an expression somewhere between confusion and ... I was never certain but I thought it was desire.
"You uh, ya - ya got somethin' ... somethin' ... uh," he was fumbling but his eyes told it for him. I wasn't particularly embarrassed for myself but I suddenly felt like, as I had learned to say in American - an ass. Forgetting I was only wearing a pair of 'tighty-whitey's' (Drake's word for them, I find it funny) had proven to be the cause of his shyness. But he suddenly laughed. "Boy. Ah guess I was right earlier when Ah said they sure don't make 'em like they used to!"
His jovial tone infected me and soon I was laughing with him. If he had felt odd about my indiscretion, he kept it to himself. I had to admire that. The magical moment over with, we both seemed to rise at the same time. I put my pants back on, slinging the shirt over my shoulder. He carried his at his side, and we walked back through the woods toward the house. I didn't say anything, neither did he. The longer we talked, though, the more my mind got hold of me. I didn't want it to be over. He was too perfect, too honorable. I couldn't help myself.
"Sam?"
He stopped, turning to me and looking at me. I looked at his eyes, the flecks of blue returning the light with utter clarity. I stepped closer to him. Again I was reminded in flashes of the time Logan and I had spent together. He never took it far. We were peers, after all. He wouldn't have. But I leanred, no less. Sam must look very much the way I had - he was American true enough, but his youth was akin to my own foreign innocence when I came to Xavier's. And like Logan, I took the initiative.
I said nothing, but put my hand to his side, just above his waist, cupping it. He was not a thin man, but in my hands he felt fitted. Perfect, again. I thought he must shudder away and run off - but no - he only stood, looking at me. He didn't take his eyes away from mine. I don't know if he could have - or simply chose not to.
Only one word left him: "Damn." And then: "Big."
I pressed my lips to his, feeling their silk, running my tongue along the edges, softly. I was nothing if not gentle. I knew my own size and strength. But if he was scared at all, he was also brave enough to allow me my pleasure without complaint. Not that I was a demanding lover. Thinking back - we hardly could have been said to be 'lovemaking'. It was more an exploration of anatomy for me; for him, I can't say.
Down I moved my lips, lightly touching his naked flesh, dabbing my tongue at the moist skin, pausing at one nipple, then the other. Further I went, opening his pants with thick fingers that suddenly seemed awkward. He didn't mind. Only laughed and laid his head back on the ground. I could feel his fingers running through my hair. He was saying something.
To this day I can't say why - but I couldn't do more than press my face to him. I wasn't looking for hard sex. I wanted something deeper. I thought I had found it in him - something pure and innocent. He was. I wasn't. I disengaged myself, and sat up on my knees, ready to end it. I was the one surprised, though.
Sam's hands were running down my spine, then to my front, then up my sides, giving me chills, finally stopping on my arms and squeezing, prompting.
"Flex for me, big man."
And I did. Maybe for once I was letting my ego show through. It felt wonderful. Then his mouth was on mine, and those hands, working at my waist. I gave in to the sensations I was so unused to, I let myself be pleased. Just once. I remember thinking that - just once.
I had always been the one with so much responsibility. My family. Parents. Sister. Brothers. Xavier's. Pleasing everyone else but never, I realized in that moment - not really ever allowing myself pleasure. Logan had opened my eyes to it. Sam released me.
I let it go.
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