“Something’s happening,” Jim said quietly, sitting up in bed. The luminous dial of his alarm clock told him that it was almost 3 AM.
“Umph” muttered his companion. This was Hal, a soldier whom Jim had met and bonded with in a pub a few days earlier. Hal was now lying on his stomach, head cradled on his folded arms. He was was comfortable and sleepy; not happy to be woken up after a strenuous evening with Jim, starting with a naked swim and finishing with rough, energetic man-sex. Now he stretched, yawned and flexed his arms, which were tanned and muscular.
“Hal, wake up! I think it’s a break-in!” Jim shook Hal and ruffled his short, fair hair.
Hal yawned. “Leave off! How d’you know?”
“An alarm has gone off. No; it won't make a noise. But this is glowing.” He showed a black bracelet on his wrist. A dull green light was flashing on it and it was vibrating silently. “Let’s take a look. Come on, Hal!”
Sighing, Hal got up and ambled into the next room after Jim. He found naked Jim gazing at a small battery of CCTV screens. He draped an arm over Jim’s shoulders and kissed the side of his neck affectionately, rubbing JIm's skin with his stubble. Jim gave Hal a brief peck and a hug before concentrating again on the screens. They could feel the animal warmth of each other’s bodies in the dark.
I just wanna go back to bed and wake up much later, beside this great guy, thought Hal.
One screen showed the approach to the massive main gate. As usual, the gate itself was locked and impregnable. Outside it, however, a powerful motor-cycle was parked. The driver was a burly man encased in black leathers. He was still wearing his helmet and visor, so it was impossible to make out his features, apart from a short beard, but he seemed relaxed; he was smoking a cigarette. The effect of the infra-red cameras made it seem to glow like a beacon.
“What does that tell you?” Jim asked.
Hal yawned before replying: “A motor-bike, so there’s only the two of them. It has a trunk at the back, so they expect to grab some small, valuable, thingies and maybe cash. The other guy’s inside here now!”
“Well done, Hal,” murmured Jim. “That’s my reading too. The buggers must have cut through my fence. It’s good military standard chain-link but not yet electrified. The biker mustn’t be used to this kind of work, or he wouldn’t smoke. A cigarette’s glow can be detected for miles; and smelt, if you’re a non-smoker. Come and help me collect the burglar?”
Hal nodded and grinned. He stretched again.
Jim dressed quickly in his ski-catsuit; skin-tight and black. He smeared his face with a few dabs of cam-cream. He hustled Hal into his spare catsuit. Fortunately they were much the same size, although for Hal, being slightly larger, it was very skin-tight indeed. Since Hal was not wearing a jock, you could tell that he’d been cut. The CCTV showed activity in the former Officers’ Mess of the old American airbase, which was now Little Kansas Antiques’ showroom. The front door was ajar, having been forced. Hal waited outside while Jim entered via the bathroom and kicked open the connecting door. As expected, the intruder bolted for the exit, to be floored in a rugger-tackle by Hal. A bag containing gold watches, coins, medals and silver objects clattered to the ground. He must have picked one of the safes. Hal got the thief in an arm-lock. Then they stripped him – a few more valuables came to light – gagged him and hog-tied him to a convenient wooden bench with some crimson silk rope which had previously done duty to keep visitors out of the restricted areas in a stately home. Jim applied a ball-gag to the burglar's mouth. “What shall we do with him, Sir?” asked Hal, reverting to military usage.
“Well, we could call the police; but in my experience they take little interest in solving real crimes, even when you’ve done most of the work for them,” Jim replied. “On the other hand, we could teach him a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry!”
“We could drown him in your pond,” suggested Hal cheerfully; he had earlier swum with Jim in the Mirror Carp pool in the nearby abandoned quarry.
“No; murder is still a crime and we don’t want to pollute my swimming-hole; we need to really embarrass him, so he won’t want to admit what’s happened to him and at the same time will be afraid ever to come back here. You’re right; of course I could kill him quite easily and dispose of the remains. There are several fool-proof methods…” Jim sounded thoughtful, rather as if he were carefully considering the menu in a restaurant. He added: “Pity my chum Richard isn’t here – you’d like him – he’s ex-SAS and knows about committing undetected murder and things like that…”
“Scary men, the SAS!” said Hal, who had met some of them.
The burglar gave a muffled moan. They moved out of earshot.
“Why don’t we scare off the getaway vehicle?” suggested Hal.
“Good idea. Then we’ll have this guy all to ourselves!” Jim replied.
Jim walked up to a grandfather clock, which was really a disguised gun-cabinet. After flicking the combination dial, he brought out a revolver and a flare pistol; he fired a couple of shots into the air and followed it with a parachute flare, which briefly lit up the entire former base in pretty colours. Jim and Hal were amused to hear Vroom!! as the motorbike accelerated away into the distance.
“Not nice to leave his mate to his fate here!” said Hal. “I’d call that desertion!”
“So would I. Not nice at all, but wise,” Jim chuckled. “This burglar-guy isn’t bad-looking, you know! I'm having some very impure thoughts! Tell you what: Let’s tie him up even more securely. Then we go back to bed and decide what to do with him in the morning. When’re you back on duty?”
“Twelve Noon!” Hal was grinning once more.
“Great. So we can have a lie-in – and a fried breakfast – and some fun. And then deal with him later. More fun, in fact!”
The burglar was left tied up in the strong room. He couldn’t scream for help but his eyes were darting frantically from left to right. Jim and Hal’s footsteps died away. Despite the summer weather, it grew noticeably colder.
Hal couldn't wait to get out of the tight ski-catsuit. Jim couldn’t wait to get him out of it. Once that had been done, they had a quick shower together, kissing unstoppably. Once they were dry, Hal strode conifdently into the bedroom. Jim followed, admiring his back-view.
He’s a stocky bugger. Look at those shoulders and those leg-muscles. Those hard ass-cheeks. The almost all-over tan. He must wear the smallest bikini trunks on the market. Very erotic indeed is his short haircut; the way the barber has shaded the hair on his thick neck. His square head. His grin. His fair, short-cropped hair.. His ass-crack. I want him so much. And, luckily, he wants me too.
Hal turned and stood, legs apart, and smiled at Jim. “Come on Man!” Jim came onwards. Hal opened his arms. He hugged Jim tightly.
“Jim”, he whispered, “This time I want to fuck your brains out. And I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer! You've met your master, whether you knew it or not.”
Jim smiled, nodded and took a deep breath. Cheeky bugger. But he’s bigger and stronger than me. And I don’t mind that at all ... It’s an adventure. And only wimps pass up adventures.
As Jim was about to find out.
