Stephen snapped his rifle to his shoulder instantly. “I just saw you shot,” he said.
A small smile curved the man’s sensual mouth. Closer to, his hair was chestnut, his eyes amber. He was even more handsome, compellingly so. He was tall, his body lean, the suit moulded perfectly to his every curve. “My powers of recovery are legendary.” His voice was soft and his accent was foreign, perhaps Eastern European.
Stephen frowned. He curved his finger around the trigger. “Who are you?”
The man bowed. “Istvan Blasko. At your service. And yourself?”
Stephen’s finger cramped he held himself so tense. “Stephen,” he said reluctantly. “Where are you from?”
The rush of adrenaline into his blood made Stephen’s legs shake. He depressed the trigger a fraction. “You’re my enemy.” His words sounded unconvincing to his own ears.
Istvan shrugged. “If you say so. I’m not really sure what’s going on.”
Stephen stared at him. “What? Do you need a history lesson man? Austria-Hungary started this, remember? I’m here because of your countrymen.”
Istvan regarded him for a long moment. His expression was conciliatory. He seemed entirely peaceable. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Stephen swallowed. “Are you armed?”
Istvan shook his head.
“What do you want?” How exactly did Istvan get through the barbed wire without a scratch and descend into the trench without a sound? Stephen wasn’t exactly feeling the threat any more. He lowered his rifle.
Istvan looked around. His gaze followed a rat running the length of the trench until it disappeared into the officers’ quarters. “I don’t know,” he said. “I wanted to see for myself.”
Still Stephen was perplexed and uneasy. “What did you want to see?”
“What man will perpetrate on man.” Istvan looked saddened. “I’ve seen bodies blown to bits. Rotting corpses in No Man’s Land. Horses drowned in the mud. I’ve seen so much that I’m sick at heart.”
Stephen looked at him in bemusement. Istvan sounded like he’d been touring the battlefields of Europe.
“I don’t know where to go to escape it.”
Stephen shook his head. “Neither do I.”
A broad smile cracked Istvan’s severe face. He laughed softly, his teeth pearly and straight and it was infectious. Stephen laughed too. He propped his rifle against the fire step and loosened his tight collar. He wondered for a moment if Istvan was a ghost or if he was delirious and seeing apparitions in the trench.
Istvan stepped forward. Stephen’s laughter died away. He lunged for his rifle but Istvan put his body in the way. “Don’t be afraid,” he said softly as he curved a hand around the back of Stephen’s head. “I won’t hurt you. Not in a million years.”
Stephen gasped as the lean length of Istvan’s body pressed against his and the stranger’s cool lips brushed his throat. A shudder ran the length of his spine and his cock filled without warning, stiffening in record time at human contact after so long. Never mind it was a man; that was one of Stephen’s secrets, something he was ashamed of.
He grasped Istvan’s shoulder as the Hungarian mouthed his neck, kissing lightly, licking at the skin with a hot, wet tongue. “Please...” Stephen tried to say, aware they could be caught at any moment.
Istvan thrust a thigh between his, rocked against Stephen’s aching cock and Stephen bucked uncontrollably, a small moan spilling from his mouth. This had to be a dream. Soon he would wake up in his bunk with his belly wet with semen and the sound of shelling raining down overhead. It would be fun while it lasted though.
Istvan breathed heavily against his throat, lavishing it with kisses. He cupped Stephen’s head almost tenderly in one strong hand before he parted his lips and the pointed tips of two sharp teeth pricked Stephen.
Stephen’s rifle clattered to the trench floor as he tried to jerk away. Istvan pressed him to the fire step, held him close as he bit him. Stephen’s skin broke, his blood flowed and he felt his energy instantly vanish. His legs buckled and Istvan held him up. He clutched at the stranger’s back as the trench swam in and out of focus and realised he was still aroused and the sensation was pleasant. Just when he thought he might come, everything turned black.