Butterfly Hunter 01 (15 page)

And that was when it
finally happened. Dave was mulling over a few last poignancies for
Denise and all the things that could never now be, and Nicholas was
walking towards him with just exactly the pleased, happy, grateful
smile Dave had imagined lighting him up – Nicholas was saying,
“You’re making tea? You wonderful man, you must have read my
mind!”

When Dave suddenly froze.
“Stop,” he said quietly, lifting his hands just far enough to
insist on stillness.

Nicholas froze, too, and
for a moment he was wide–eyed with fear, trying to glance sideways
at the waterhole without moving more than his eyes, perhaps
thinking there must be a crocodile emerging to stalk them, or
something equally dire. “What is it?” he whispered after a
moment.

“
Stay still,”
Dave advised. “I’m going to reach for your camera.” It was tucked
into the top of the open satchel at Nicholas’s left hip.

By the time Dave
straightened again with the camera in his hands, Nicholas had made
a better guess, and was almost quivering with anticipation. “Is it
… ?”

“
A scrap of
the sky. Yes. On your Akubra.”

“
Oh,
David …
You
bought me this hat.”

He puffed out a silent
laugh. “I didn’t realise it was a butterfly catcher, too.” He took
a pace round to his left, and slowly lifted the camera. Zoomed in,
and focussed it. Took a few snaps with the butterfly filling the
screen. Even while concentrating on photographing it, Dave was
astonished by its beauty. A vibrant blue, with black markings, and
scalloped curves round the edge of each wing, trailing down to long
black tail–like things. Just amazing.

Dave zoomed the camera out
a bit, and took a few of the butterfly and the Akubra, and
Nicholas’s eyes peeking at him from under the brim, wild with
excitement and joy. And then Dave slowly handed over the camera, so
that Nicholas could scroll through the images on the
display.

“
Oh,
David
…” Nicholas breathed in awe.

The man was shaking now, and the
butterfly was starting to stir again. Well, Dave knew what he could
offer to tempt the thing to stay. He carefully lifted fingertips
towards it, assuming it could sense his sweat somehow, get the
scent of it, or feel the coolness of available liquid.

“
Don’t
hurt it,” pleaded Nicholas. “Oh,
please
be careful
…”

“
I
will,” Dave promised huskily, trying not to laugh at the
Be gentle with me
undertones. Sure enough, the butterfly fluttered and lifted
away from the Akubra – Dave drew in a sharp breath, forcing himself
to wait for it to resettle rather than risk reaching for it – and
then it landed again. On his fingers. That long probing thing
unwound, and what with its light feet and its snuffling way of
drinking from him – and what with the tension – Dave almost burst
into giggles.

But he didn’t. He
carefully brought his hand down so that Nicholas could see it, and
then he stood still while the butterfly drank and Nicholas gaped;
the man murmuring things every now and then about the butterfly’s
beauty, and then muttering about the proboscis, antennae, the
thorax and abdomen, and other things that Dave was clueless about –
not to mention, “Those
wings
. Those magnificent
wings!”

Dave laughed, he couldn’t
help it. He was so damned happy for Nicholas’s sake. Nicholas
flashed him a grin which was the visual equivalent of answering
peals of laughter – and then Nicholas managed to take a photo or
two from different angles, before at last the butterfly had drunk
its fill, and it gently lifted, and flew a lazy random path around
them, and then spiralled up into the dappled sunlight, before
heading back towards the wattle.

Nicholas gasped as if
wordless, and Dave just laughed some more, wonderful deep belly
laughs. They’d done it! They’d found Nicholas’s butterflies! Dave
expected Nicholas to just turn and go running off after the thing,
to watch it, to find where it landed. To
not
let it go.

But, no.

Instead Nicholas shared
Dave’s laughter for another moment, drawing close, and he lifted
his hands, long pale fingers curving out like precious butterfly
wings – and then he was cupping Dave’s face, still looking
awestruck, astonished, jubilant – he was cupping Dave’s face, and
leaning in close.

And then it happened.

They were in the midst of
it before Dave formed another thought, and he could never
afterwards say quite how it all came to be, but the truth was that
they were kissing, they were each kissing the other, and even in
the shock of it Dave knew it was as much his own impulse as it was
Nicholas’s idea. And those plump pink lips were just as delicious
as he’d always known they must be, and Nicholas was masterful and
generous and amazing, his waist slim and his shirt cool under
Dave’s palms.

And then too soon and not
soon enough, Nicholas broke away, and grinned happily at
Dave,
with
Dave, as if they shared the most awesome secret, the two of
them. His cool hands still light upon Dave’s skin, his fingertips
dragging delightfully as he slowly pulled away. One last press of
that wonderful mouth on Dave’s, and then with another laugh
Nicholas did at last turn to go stumbling off, skipping off after
his butterfly, his happiness radiating from him, singing from him –
and Dave stumbled after him, to help in all the business of
photographing, recording, note–taking, as the giddiness calmed a
little but never quite ebbed away, and even though they didn’t
quite touch again Dave was just
possessed
.

They hardly spoke that evening.
Dave cooked dinner and cleaned up afterwards, while Nicholas spent
hours poring over his field guide and writing up his scribbled
notes.

“
I’m convinced
they’re something no one’s recorded before,” Nicholas announced as
it grew late. “If anyone’s even seen them, they didn’t realise what
they were looking at.”

“
I’m glad,”
said Dave with simple sincerity.

“
And they’re
so very beautiful! More than I could have ever hoped
for.”

Dave just smiled at him fondly.
Words were redundant.

“
We’ll have to
watch through a full life cycle, if we can.”

“
How long will
that take?” Dave asked.

“
I don’t know,
it varies so greatly.”

Dave just nodded. And after
reading and scribbling and thinking some more, Nicholas quietly
wished him goodnight, and slipped away to his tent.

Which wasn’t what Dave had
expected. But a significant part of him was very
relieved.

Another part of him was
frustrated and yearning, and Dave was certainly honest enough to
admit that as he lay awake that night. An hour or more slipped by
as he lay on his back in the sleeping bag on the narrow camp bed,
breathing, just breathing, and wishing even though he hardly knew
what he was wishing for. He could hardly envisage anything beyond
that kiss, and the possibility of more of those kisses, and
Nicholas’s long pale fingers finding him out – and his mind baulked
at imagining any more than that, but he couldn’t deny that he
yearned, he was nothing but yearning and dread.

“
David?”

He had the chance then to
consider whether the yearning outweighed the dread, or if it was
the other way round, for he could make out Nicholas’s silhouette
just beyond the canvas by the door of his tent. But he couldn’t
decide. He couldn’t decide.

“
David
…”

Another whisper, fainter
this time. Though the first had been a question, it had been
authoritative, but the second utterance of his name allowed for
doubt. And after a moment the shadow narrowed and rippled as if
turning to go – and Dave’s heart was hammering loud in his ears but
he managed to say quite clearly, “Yes.”

And then Nicholas was
slipping inside the tent, striding towards him on those long legs,
kneeling by the bed. Those hands cupping his face again, fingertips
pushing in to massage the sensitive skin by his ears, and then
Nicholas’s mouth on his, masterful and passionate and so damned
sweet. Dave groaned into it, he couldn’t help himself, he’d been so
very hungry for so very long, he hadn’t even realised how hungry he
was – he groaned again, and then Nicholas’s tongue was pushing into
him, pushing in, and after a moment’s resistance Dave surrendered,
and the heat of it swamped him. His head pressed back heavy on the
pillow, and he lifted his hands and
clung
to Nicholas’s arms just
below his broad shoulders, Dave just
clung
.

After a while one of
Nicholas’s hands started drifting down, the fingertips dragging
down sensitive skin to resettle at his chest, a thumb–pad rubbing
at one of his nipples through his shirt – and Dave moaned a protest
at the spiky sensation, hardly knowing whether it tickled or
provoked, but as Nicholas continued regardless, it became clearer
that it was pleasure, that it was almost unbearable, but it
was
good
. And just as he’d learned that lesson, the hand drifted
further still, and this time Dave’s moan was encouraging, and
Nicholas chuckled into their kiss, their mad mouthing which hadn’t
broken even once – until now, as Nicholas pulled back to sit on his
heels, and he murmured, “Take off your shirt. Don’t worry, nothing
more than that. Take off your shirt.”

Dave found himself
obeying, half disappointed and half reassured and wholly confused
to find that Nicholas didn’t follow suit. They were both in
t–shirts and boxers – well, Dave was now in his boxers only, with
the sleeping bag still covering his lower half. He lay back again,
and waited for Nicholas’s next move or next instruction.

“
Good,”
said Nicholas, before leaning in to take up where he’d left off,
kissing Dave, with one hand cupping his cheek and then sliding
lower to run fingers and palm around the column of his throat,
while the other hand crept lower and lower, slipping smoothly under
the sleeping bag, smoother still under the waistband of his boxer
shorts. And then too soon and an agonisingly long time later, that
exploratory hand at last pressed a palm against him, fingertips
pushing down to wriggle at his balls, and that palm just grazing
flatly against him, a light caress that wasn’t half enough even
though that would have been all it took if only there were some
friction there, some pressure. Dave groaned in need – Nicholas
echoed him – and then the caress firmed, that hand encompassing
more – and the kiss broke again, though Nicholas peppered kisses
over Dave’s face and throat, groaning as deeply as if he were the
one being touched. And it was so odd and yet so perfect, that hand
rubbing up and down, all of that hand mapping his cock and his
balls, every slide so random and each touch so unexpected, so
intense, though it was nothing like what Dave did for himself,
nothing like at all, but infinitely better which should have been
impossible.
How did you
know?
Dave thought raggedly.
How do you KNOW?!

Nicholas was shifting,
kissing Dave’s collarbones now and then lower still to mouth at his
nipples and then gnaw at them just roughly enough, and none of this
was anything like what Dave had had before, but even though it was
strange, he knew it was good. He knew it was good.

“
Please,” Dave asked, one hand still gripping at Nicholas’s
arm and his fingers probably digging in a bit hard – the other hand
holding firm to the camp bed as if he might fall off.
“Please.”

Nicholas groaned, and the
pressure and crazy rhythm of that hand intensified, while
Nicholas’s other hand slipped away …

Dave waited expectantly,
but then he sighed a protest as he realised that Nicholas had
reached down to work at himself with his left hand in a mad echo of
how he worked at Dave. “No!” Dave cried, shaking at the man’s
shoulder. “No.”

Nicholas lifted his head,
and stared at him imploringly, imperiously. “I
need
to.”

“
I know,
but – properly. Both of us.” He had no idea what, though. Dave
wasn’t quite sure whether he was game enough to touch Nicholas yet,
and of course he didn’t mean – “Not
properly
properly. But not on
your own like that.”

Nicholas nodded, and
glanced about him wildly for a moment. Then he ordered, “Stay
still.” And he pushed back the rest of the sleeping bag, letting it
slide off to the tent floor – pushed down Dave’s boxers, exposing
him for a long moment – gazed at him hungrily while Dave both
revelled in it and died of embarrassment – until Nicholas
remembered himself and his need, clambered clumsily on top of Dave.
They were lying there together now, and Dave’s arms were around the
man – it was quite impossible on the narrow bed, of course, but
Nicholas lifted up onto one side, just enough to slip his hand down
between them, and –

And they came like that,
only moments later, with Nicholas wrapping both their cocks up
together in one long–fingered hand, tugging arhythmically, and
leaning down to kiss Dave like a starving man – until the end, so
soon, too soon, when Nicholas lifted his head again and cried out
as if his world was ending, and Dave clung on and stayed with him
the whole damned way through.