Stung (Zombie Gentlemen) (7 page)

If the female informant was offended, she didn’t
show it. “As I said, from the information you provided us with, this amount
should be more than enough.”

“And then we’ll be celebrating on Saturday.”
Bricks shoved his hands down his trouser pockets.

“Oh yeah?” Crunch took a deeper breath. “Keep
yarself alive then.” He looked down at the tin, and he could now make out an
oriental-inspired picture of a fox.

“I could get you some proper talc if you need it,”
Bricks told him, and the woman groaned.

“For the love of God. Bricks, behave yourself.”

“Why’d I need talc?” Crunch frowned, completely at
loss.

“Because of all that leather you wear.” Bricks’
eyes twinkled as he nodded at Crunch’s crotch.

Crunch opened his lips in shock, but before he
could say anything, there was a clank of metal, and he realized the woman
opened the fence for him.

"Right," he said, fastening the bag with
the tin to a strap on his jacket and slid out of the fenced walkway without
another word. He bared his machete again and glanced back, only to see a beam
of moonlight slide over Bricks' smiling face as he followed his companion into
the shadows. Seeing a pretty boy like that only reminded Crunch of the lad he
needed to protect in Honeyhill.

Chapter
5

Victor arched his back, carrying two cylindrical
devices made of iron to the small shed he was working in that day. Each of them
was the size of a sitting German Shepherd and soon, Victor’s fingers were
aching with the effort of keeping the machines over the grass. With a soft
grunt, he put them on the ground and started shaking his arms so that the blood
would flow back to his ghastly yellowish fingers. One of the guards was leaning
against the outer wall, watching Victor with half-lidded eyes. His jaw kept
moving at a steady pace.

For the first time since coming here, Victor was
on the hill, and he tried not to look at the nearby domes, because there were
more than one, all joined with corridors of glass and steel. Stretched out on
the plain ahead, the structures looked like dew drops on a intensely green
leaf, glistening in the sun. The buildings were either bigger than any he had
ever seen, or it was just the impact of the empty space around them that made
them seem so massive. Either way, he found them unpleasant and intimidating.
Now that he was so close to them, the buzzing inside was so loud everyone had
to raise their voice when talking.

Sadly, Tompson, with whom he was to consult about
the escape plan today, was delegated to a wood chopping station, while Victor
was brought up here along with two young women. They were supposed to extract
honey from the apiary. Victor didn’t quite grasp the logic behind keeping the
bees in this huge greenhouse, but it wasn’t for him to judge. He wasn’t staying
long anyway. There was talk on the topic yesterday, and the consensus was to
act as fast as possible. Within the next few days possibly.

It made his situation with Crunch somewhat
difficult. The man promised to see him yesterday yet he didn’t show up at any
point, and Victor was sent out to work in the orchard again. His cheeks stung a
bit from the sun, but at least the skin wasn’t peeling. Did Crunch disappear
with the ring, or did he simply lose interest? Both of these perspectives
stung, but Victor was more concerned about his mother's keepsake than
rejection. Maybe he could somehow inquire about the man’s whereabouts?

“Move your lazy arse, canary bird.” The rough
voice made him abandon fantasies and pick up the devices, rushing towards the
guard who was patting his thighs rhythmically. “This is not a holiday.”

Victor bit his lip, stifling a moan of pain when
one of the metal cylinders banged into his shin, radiating pain all over his
leg. He opened his mouth to swear, but shut it when one of the female prisoners
assigned to work with him looked out of the open shed.

“Coming,” he mumbled, finally walking into the
cool room that smelled of honey and dust with a base of rotting wood.

“Finally,” commented the other guard.

Victor froze, noticing the man’s hand around the
other girl’s arm, but didn’t say a thing and put the devices on the wooden
floor next to the one that was already there. He was relieved to see the guard
shoving the girl away. He wouldn’t know how to react if the man kept making
advances at her. She swiftly walked up to a wooden stool, bending her legs to
cover as much of her calves as possible under a wide skirt that ended just below
the knee and was torn on the side.

The guard watched her legs even as he tilted one
of the cylindrical devices towards them, motioning for all three of them to
sit. The stools weren’t all that comfortable, but the work was miles away from
the hard labour Victor endured in the orchard, or the disgusting chores of the
pighouse.

The guard showed them how to use the device to
extract honey from honeycomb with the iron extractors and as it wasn’t a
difficult feat, they were all soon furiously turning the handles and filling
jars with the sweet gold. While it wasn’t an arduous task, it was intense
enough to make Victor hot, and the handle eventually started hurting his hand.
At least he could sit while doing this job, but the lack of sufficient amount
of food combined with working far more than he was used to was already taking
its toll on him. It wasn't too horrible yet, he was simply feeling weaker than
usual, hungry, and his muscles kept stinging since he shovelled out pig shit
two days ago.

A well known voice snapped him out of the grim
thoughts.

“Put that down, canary. The ladies can carry on
without ya.”

He almost got his hand into the processor, looking
up with surprise. His heart immediately went into gallop when his gaze met a
pair of familiar green eyes.

Crunch looked like the dashing dandy of Honeyhill.
The brown shirt under his leather jacket  carefully starched, and he even had
his boots polished. Crunch yawned and stretched, probably trying to look
uninterested. “Come on. Don’t got all day.”

Victor nodded at his coworkers, his legs already
carrying him towards Crunch on their own accord. He quickly brushed his dry,
chafed hands over his trousers and reached up to make his hair at least
somewhat presentable. With Crunch, he could escape the camp, even if just for a
moment.

The man gently pushed Victor forward and nodded at
the other guards. They must have arranged this
—
whatever
‘this’ was
—
before. After
spending a few hours in the shadow, the sun was Victor's enemy, and he squeezed
his eyes shut, letting Crunch lead him forward. He wanted a bath so much it
hurt, especially that Crunch prettied himself up once more. At least he wasn’t
sweaty.

“I got it covered. Ya got some time with me now.”
Crunch smiled at him, as if he hadn't stood him up yesterday.

Victor looked up at him, feeling his heart beat
faster. Did Crunch have the ring on him? “Why didn’t you come yesterday? I was
waiting...” He trailed off, biting his lip, embarrassed by how needy it
sounded. He looked to the grass beneath his feet and cringed when they came
closer to the dome. The buzzing awoke a tremor on his skin.

“I know. Couldn’t make it. Sharpe had ‘is eye on
me.” Crunch sighed as they were making their way back to the orchards,
descending down the hill. Victor wanted to touch him, but noticed a group of
figures in black just in time to let go of this silly idea.

Led by a guard were people who looked like
mourners, in trousers gathered at the ankle and thick gloves. They all wore
hats with wide brims, covered with a thick, black veil tucked into their
collars, creating a bubble of air around their heads. Their appearance was so
shocking, Victor needed a moment to realize they were most probably working
with the bees. He shuddered and returned his attention to Crunch.

“Sharpe? Iron Teeth?” That was the nickname the
prisoners used, referring to the metalwork in the man's mouth.

“Yeah, keep away from ‘im.”

It was frustrating advice. All he was hearing from
Crunch all the time was to keep away from everything and everyone.

“But... I can’t just hide in a hole forever. I’m
going to be here for a long, long time.” Victor swallowed around the lie as it
rolled off his tongue. He wanted to know Crunch’s intentions.

Crunch sighed and pushed his hands into the
pockets of his trousers.. “Ya have to blend in. I know it’s ‘ard,” he added
after a pause, looking back at Victor with a smirk.

“But then, my life’ll just go by until I’m too
tired to work. What then?” Victor insisted, locking their eyes. He hardly
resisted grabbing the guard’s forearm, but ended up clenching his fingers on
his own wrist.

Crunch sighed and went silent as they left the
path and walked between the apple trees. There was no more fruit to gather
here, so they walked deeper, watching the cool autumn sun caress the withering
leaves.

“I’ll take care of ya, yeah?” Crunch mumbled in
the end.

“How?” Victor dared to slide his palm into
Crunch’s trouser pocket and touch the man’s hand. It was rough, meaty, and
strong. He leaned into Crunch’s side, satisfied when he noticed the big lump of
a man gasp.

“Good. I’ll take care of ya
good
,” Crunch
rasped into his ear, and squeezed his hand. Hot breath curled around Victor’s
ear, making him squirm with arousal.

“You couldn’t meet me because of Iron Teeth.” He
nuzzled his face into Crunch’s arm, burying his nose in the leather. “And I
don’t just want to survive. I need my life back.”

“I’m not afraid of ‘Iron Teeth’. I don’t want ‘is
attention on ya.”

“If I were a woman, you could just tell the other
guards you want me protected, but like this? I am only safe as long as you're
around.” He squeezed Crunch’s hand.

“Don’t push it too ‘ard. You’re getting better
jobs but it’s not gonna ‘appen overnight.”

Victor sighed, pressing even closer into Crunch
and letting his head rest on the other man’s arm. As crazy as it was, he didn’t
doubt Crunch’s sincerity, but he just couldn’t stay here. Even with better
food, better work and less people in the barrack, what would he become in the
eyes of the other prisoners if Crunch were to make the camp life easy on him?
He would die in shame.

“Oh, I wanted to touch ya yesterday so bad.”
Crunch wrapped his arm around Victor’s shoulders, its weight reassuring rather
than a threat. The man's boldness only confirmed how peaceful this part of the
orchard was.

“I was thinking about you when I was falling
asleep.” Victor gave voice to the disappointment he was feeling on his
uncomfortable bunk. It was then that he truly missed the stolen moment under a
bulk of warm muscles.

“Oh, were ya...?” Crunch hugged him closer. “I
might just make yar dreams come true.”

Victor chuckled, getting to his toes to press a
kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Depends on what you have in mind.”

They reached the outer border of the orchard and
walked out into the floating sea of tangled grass and weeds. Some were tall
enough to smack Victor’s chest, bouncing back after Crunch went through them,
but they didn’t break any not to leave a visible trail. With no warning, Crunch
let go of him and disappeared with a mute thump. Victor swallowed and pulled
some of the particularly tall growths to the side before looking down at
Crunch, who grinned at him from the bottom of a grassy ditch. He didn’t say a
thing and instead, held out his arms in invitation.

Victor bit his lip at the melting feeling in his
chest and jumped right into the welcoming arms. “Kiss me.”

“Such a demanding slave.” Crunch laughed as if
those words were no big deal and complied with the request, locking Victor
against his warm chest. It made Victor forget where he was, or
who
he
was for that matter. Crunch was such an excellent kisser that he must have been
lying when he denied being a charmer.

With a soft whine, Victor opened up to him and
teased Crunch’s tongue, coaxing it inside his mouth. He loved the slight
scratch of afternoon stubble against the softness of a warm mouth that quickly
took over the kiss.

“Ah, so good.” Crunch slid his hands down to
Victor’s arse and squeezed it, almost picking him up. It sent a jolt of burning
sensation to Victor’s groin.

“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly, rubbing his inner thigh
against Crunch's leg. His body was already craving more.

“Yeah, I got ya to myself.” Crunch kissed him once
more before sitting down in the thick grass and taking off his jacket.

Taking this as a sign, Victor pulled off his shirt
and dropped to his knees next to the other man. “You’ve prettied yourself up
again. Is that for me?”

“Oy!” Crunch furrowed his eyebrows, but a blush
crept up his thick neck. “Was laundry day.”

Victor smiled and leaned in to kiss the heated
skin, enjoying Crunch’s pulse just beneath his lips. “It’s a good thing that
you’re trying to
court
me.”

“Yeah, laugh at the working class.” Crunch fell
back to the grass with a sigh, pulling Victor along.

“I thought
I
was the working class,”
whispered Victor, placing his knees on either side of Crunch’s hips and
nuzzling the underside of his jaw. He was happy to discover that Crunch even
used some cologne.

“Now ya are. Ya can mingle with me
now
.”
Crunch reached out to stroke Victor's chest, rousing a low chuckle.

“Oh? Are you saying, if things were like usual, I
would just let you fuck me without the mingling?” he teased.

“Nah. Ya wouldn’t fuck with the likes of me back
in London.” Crunch lapped at his lips like a dog, and Victor ground his hips
into him with a low moan, shuddering in his partner’s strong embrace. Crunch's
cock was already hard in his trousers.

“I wouldn’t?” It felt so intimate to lie in the
grass like this, sharing the hot air of their breaths.

“‘Course not. Pretty boy like ya.” Crunch’s big
hands slid down the sides of Victor’s body, setting him on fire as if they were
covered with sulphur.

“You didn’t know me back in London,” Victor
reminded him, slowly popping the buttons of Crunch’s fresh shirt. He forgot all
about the ring, but smiled when he felt its shape through the stiff fabric. The
guard was keeping his promise so far.

“I can see yar hands ‘ad never seen much work.”
Crunch smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling it close to his face for an
inspection. Victor's stomach plummeted as he remembered just how ugly, dry and
chapped his palms have become within the period of just a few days.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, trying to keep up
appearances. “I’m
not
a dandy fancier myself.”

“Nah?” Crunch sounded amused. “Ya cruise the docks
at night lookin’ for some rough cock?” All of a sudden, he grabbed Victor’s
sides and turned his world upside down, rolling him to his back.

Victor’s breath hitched and a spark of lust
ignited by that sudden move went straight to his cock. His hands clutched at
Crunch’s shoulders as he looked straight into his eyes, daring him. “Maybe...”