This is the sequel to "Battle Cry, or Your Momma."You should read it first

The Most Important Meal of the Day
(Battle Cry 2)


 

As Carl's body started to wake, he stretched, his movements quickly rousing the man he was pressed tightly against. His arm reflexively wrapped tighter around the chest it was draped over before he bent his elbow and raked his hand through the thatch of dark hair. His knee bent and straightened and moved, brushing his leg repeatedly over the two strong thighs it rested on as well as the nearby groin. Carl rubbed his stubbled face in the warm crook of neck and shoulder as he sighed and made small noises of contentment. He pressed forward against the muscular hip, before he finally straightened himself out stiff in one great stretch, complete with a gaping yawn.

When awareness finally came, Carl smiled at Van Helsing's one-eyed squint, surprised to see the man awake already, then rolled onto his back and looked up at the gray pre-dawn sky. He was slightly chilled, so he pulled the blanket from where it had slipped to his waist back up to his chest, and held its edge as he scooted closer to Van Helsing, their shoulders pressing together.

"Let's find something to eat as soon as we can, Van Helsing. I'm famished. Don't eggs sound delicious?" He laced his fingers together on top of his chest and sighed. "I'll bet if we go just a mile or two out of our way, possibly southwest, we could find--"

"I can think of something delicious." Van Helsing's voice was gruff with interrupted sleep as he rolled onto his side and pressed himself against Carl's hip. "And I don't have to go out of my way for it."

Carl looked at him, expressionless. "Thank you. I think. But I'm serious, I'm very hungry."

"So am I." He raised his eyebrows and gave Carl his best lascivious stare. When Carl merely blinked, unimpressed, Van Helsing laughed. "Good God, Carl, what do you expect after waking me like that?"

"Like what?"

"By squirming all over me."

"I did not."

"You did. You weren't quite awake, and you rubbed yourself against me, everywhere, for at least five solid minutes. You wake me up like that and just expect us to. . . shuffle off to get eggs?" He ran his hand down his face. "Do you stretch like that every morning?"

Carl blushed and shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't know, I'm asleep at the time."

Van Helsing laughed and kissed him, pressing himself forward in small circles against Carl's hip, determined to convince Carl that breakfast could wait a little longer.

When Van Helsing finally let him, Carl gasped for air. "But. . .I'll make a concerted effort. . . to do so from now on." He smiled shyly and pulled Van Helsing on top of him, and down into another kiss.

"How can you wake up," Van Helsing squeezed Carl's erection, "in this state and think of food, anyway?"

"I'm used to waking up alone, with only breakfast to look forward to. Normally I just think of food and. . . wait for it to go away." At the look Van Helsing gave him, he blushed and added, "Well, usually I wait, sometimes I hurry it along a little bit, all right? Satisfied?"

Van Helsing pushed himself up on an arm and looked down at Carl, the rising sun giving him a much better view than he had the night before. He was amazed how different Carl appeared while working in the lab, or riding a horse, or walking next to Van Helsing carrying a huge pack. He slid a hand across Carl's chest and shoulders.

Carl 'mmmm-ed' as Van Helsing touched his chest, but then the man kept simply staring at him. "Van Helsing? You're looking at me like you've never seen me before."

Van Helsing chuckled and lowered himself over Carl again. "Correction. I'm looking at you like you're breakfast." He pressed a quick kiss to Carl's mouth. "And in truth, I haven't really seen you before. Those shapeless robes you wear don't do you justice, Carl. You're a completely different creature when you're not in them." He nuzzled Carl's neck and spoke against the skin. "You even sound different."

"What do you mean I sound different?" He buried his hands in Van Helsing's unruly hair and arched his neck against the warm lips.

"I mean, I can't imagine you saying some of the things you said last night, or making some of the noises you made, while wearing your robes. That would be, I don't know, blasphemous, wouldn't it?" He raised his head to look at Carl, still amazed at how quickly things had escalated after Carl's awful attempts at insults, and Van Helsing's flirtatious remarks. He felt himself stiffen even more remembering the confessions they'd made to one another after that first breathless kiss.

Carl thought back to some of the things he'd said, and some of the noises he'd made--a few of which he didn't think he'd ever made before and doubted he could make again if he tried--and blushed deeply. "Maybe not blasphemous, but I'm sure the Cardinal would not approve."

When Van Helsing's smile looked as if it were about to split his face, Carl quickly added, "It's all your fault." Carl lowered his voice in an exaggerated simulation of Van Helsing's. "'Shout an insult like you mean it, Carl! For God's sake, Carl! Let it out, Carl!' After that, I got on kind of a roll."

Van Helsing cocked an eyebrow at Carl's impersonation, but couldn't help but smile. "I'll say you were on a roll." He kissed Carl again. "I liked it."

"You really liked the things I said?"

Van Helsing nodded and placed small kisses against Carl's neck between his words. "And the noises you made." He nibbled at Carl's shoulder. "I particularly liked when you talked about how you think of me. . . when you're on your knees." Van Helsing made a noise of his own against Carl's skin. "You may not be very good at spontaneous insults, but you've got a definite. . . bedside manner."

Carl smiled with pride. "But all I did was tell the truth. That's easy. Much easier than making something up about someone's mother whom I don't even know. And. . . I do often imagine you're there when I'm on my knees. Among other places."

Van Helsing smiled, remembering some of the other places Carl had mentioned last night. He sucked gently on the side of Carl's throat and writhed on top of him. "Mmm hmm. In fact, Carl, you're quite skilled. . . at a great many things one wouldn't normally consider within a friar's field of expertise. Perhaps you should demonstrate some of your skills again." He kissed down Carl's neck, lingering on the small hollow at the base of his throat.

"Happy to do so." Carl sighed and snaked his arm between them to give Van Helsing's erection a meaningful squeeze.

"Talk like you did last night, Carl. Tell me what you're going to do." He licked across a collarbone and thrust steadily into Carl's firm grip.

Carl smirked, even in his excitement, thinking how this was one of the few times Van Helsing ever really *wanted* him to talk at length. Carl made his voice deep and seductive. "I'm going to. . . flip you like an omelet."

Van Helsing's mouth froze on Carl's shoulder. Did one actually flip an omelet or merely fold--my God, he thought, he's turning me into him.

"I'm going to. . . crack you. . . "

Van Helsing stopped moving his hips and raised his head slowly to look at Carl, who was grinning and looking up at the sky as if the firmament were one of the most amusing things he'd ever seen.

"I'll candle you . . . oh, and scramble--"

"So help me, Carl, if you say you're going to poach me, I'll slap you until you can't see straight."

Carl's mouth formed a large 'O' as he met the man's eyes and laughed at the mock threat. "I'm sorry, Van Helsing, I'm sorry, " he said, as he wrapped his arms around the man and tried very hard not to deteriorate into giggles. "I'm just in such a good mood. . . I'm so. . . happy, and you're so. . . well, I couldn't help myself."

Van Helsing couldn't help but smile, as well. "I'm happy you're happy, Carl." He rotated his hips, rubbing their erections together, before reaching between them and wrapping his hand around both of them, pumping slowly, eliciting a small moan from the man. He kissed Carl deeply and then suddenly rolled off onto his back. "No, no, I think you were right, we should just go get eggs."

He made a move to sit up but Carl pounced on him, straddling his hips and lowering his body so that their chests pressed together and their faces were only inches apart. "Very funny, Van Helsing. Taste of my own medicine. Ha, ha. I thought you wanted to hear me talk?" It was Carl's turn to look lascivious as he smiled and acted as if he was going to kiss Van Helsing, before he dipped to the side and teased the rim of the man's ear with his tongue. His voice was a rough whisper. "Sometimes, when we're surrounded by other people, I can't look at you. . . for fear one of them will look at me, and see on my face how badly I ache to feel you inside me."

Van Helsing made a low noise in his throat and rolled them both over.

Later, in a room that smelled like old wood and fresh bread, at a table that wobbled every time the men forked their eggs, Carl smiled and continued his litany between bites. "Whisked. . . separated, oh, and shirred. . . "

Van Helsing smiled around his mouthful of breakfast. "Whipped. Creamed?"

"Um. . . beaten."

"Boiled. Hard."

"F-fried. . . " Carl stopped smiling and put his fork down, his mouth hung open for a moment. He looked around the room, an almost panicked expression on his face. "Now look what you've done. Honestly, Van Helsing, I don't think I'll ever be able to eat eggs again without. . . " They exchanged a pointed look, then left quickly, Carl leaning over slightly more than usual, and Van Helsing telling himself that eggs were healthy and so Carl should have them often. And wondering how he could create the same pleasant associations in Carl's mind with bread, water and wine.