Alex read the long rant from James. He had been trying to a get together with his good friend, but was just getting grief because of his life choices. The email basically called him a nutcase for going back to Sergei. Tom, Edward and James all thought he was making a monumental mistake by restarting his continued fling with the older Russian. God alone knows what Yassen would think, but it was comfortable. After his last failed attempt to connect with his friends, Alex deleted his email account. The seventeen year old then walked around the dacha naked as Sergei was out, his mind on the fact he really did not care about other peoples opinions. Sergei had welcomed him back, listened as he had poured out his grief. Sergei had understood that he'd liked Ash, even if they only connected briefly. The older russian understood that Alex had no connections to his past and he had told Alex to make his own family.
As Alex thought on things, he knew Moscow felt like home. Alex even talked about his time in therapy and their sexual relationship, they were morphing into lovers with the potential of long term.
Alex went into the bedroom. The closet contained both their clothes and possessions. Sergei had given him a platinum card when he returned with the proviso he went shopping with security. It was Sergei's way of making sure he had no more slip ups. Alex touched the soft cloth of his selection of suits, the cool silk and finest cotton of shirts and wool pullovers. He had no intention of getting dressed. He was not in the mood for writing and his friends were pissed at him so he had no one to catch up with. He could go outside for a cross country ski, the snow had made the views to the south flat and enticing, but that would involve getting dressed. Running was now in the gym only. Alex settled on pulling on some shorts to go to the house gym.
Misha watched Alex run on the treadmill at a fast pace, the boy had been pushing himself. Hours spent exercising, sparing and on fine days skiing. At least the kid was eating. The staff all made sure the nutrition plan was adhered to. After four months on his own, the little poet had returned dangerously thin. Sergei had spent three days in the bedroom watching Alex eat the soft foods and high protein drinks suggested by the doctor , who had examined Alex and stated it was likely to be a psychological disorder making Alex control his intake of food.
The Russian had interpreted the advice of the doctor as a challenge to shape up and be considerate to his emotionally and physically fragile lover. No more separations, Alex was to be watched, kept comfortable, happy. Sergei had always been fairly selfish with his sexual partners, but his poet was one he wanted to keep, even if he had to rearrange his way of living. Maria was more than capable of handling most of the business. Sergei was in fact becoming more selfish as he got older, he wanted Alex and would move heaven and earth to keep him.
January passed into February with Alex living at the Dacha south of Moscow. The couple had been to the Ballet twice and to one party to meet and mingle with Sergei's friends. Mostly they had stayed at home. Alex had discussed his problems with Sergei. Problems which stemmed from Alex being to afraid to talk before. Sex continued to be fantastic, but the older Russian acquiesced to allow anything beyond vanilla was only done if Alex initiated it. The arms dealer noted the boy was strangely quiet and withdrawn after his serious blip of self-medication, residential therapy, appendicitis and the death of his godfather. The peace and quiet would help heal the young poet, help him relax, grieve and settle down into what Sergei hoped would be a lifelong committed relationship. Not a thing he had ever wished or sought before, but the strange puzzle that was Alex Rider had trapped him, capturing his heart.
As his eighteenth birthday neared, Alex had asked for a quiet and intimate birthday, he was 18, not that this milestone made any difference really. Most considered you old enough to look after yourself at 16, which Alex found out when his foster placement had ended. What had been promised as family was anything but, just another rejection in the end.
"Where are we going?" Alex whined again.
"A Birthday surprise. The plane leaves this afternoon." Maria was being her usual efficient self, but she was not giving anything away. "All of us are going to celebrate your majority. 18 tomorrow, how exciting, isn't it Alex?" Maria was happy, because her boss was happy. She often wondered about the strange English boy, but as long as Sergei was with him, he appeared more than content. She had long ago realised her own relationship with Sergei would never be more than as brother and sister. She had watched Sergei's usual short flings as he neglected, abused and grow bored with a series of beautiful, young men. She had known him as a young recruit to the GRU, Sergei's relationships then had been illicit, secret and never crossing over with home and work. Now, he could live with his lover and while not accepted, it no longer meant either a stay in an asylum, if you were lucky or a labour camp if you were not.
Alex allowed Sergei to blindfold him before the business jet landed. Maria dealt with customs and the passport officials. The birthday boy was lead to a car, Alex tried to get any clues from the traffic noise and to note the movements of the car and soon they pulled in and parked in a basement garage and then they took the lift to the awaiting room. Sergei led his lover to the balcony. It was dusk and the lights shone over Paris, when the blindfold was removed.
Alex passionately kissed his lover. Alex was in Paris again, but staying in the Presidential suite of the George V Hotel. Maria in a Suite to herself as well. The stylish woman was looking forward to some serious shopping. Alex pulled Sergei back inside from the balcony and toward the bedroom. "Fuck me Sergei. In fact, I want to spend most of my birthday filled by your wonderful cock. Fill me with your cum. Make me yours and yours alone, darling. Nothing else matters, just us together."
"Well, we have to go out tomorrow I arranged a birthday meal with the lovely Olga and Michael." Sergei did not add that his attempts to get Dieter or James to join them had come to nothing. Edward was also busy writing a first draft screenplay. Alex was happy just to have Sergei all to himself.
Alex woke sore and happy. He was sure Sergei was still asleep. He was fully aroused with morning wood. He ignored his full bladder and moved his hand to have a leisurely wank. Only for Sergei to grab his hand.
"No, your cock, your release and your pleasure belong to me." Sergei slicked up his own cock. "Knees up, I am going to fuck you, now, little poet."
Alex positioned himself on his back with his knees drawn up and splayed out, to full expose his backside. He wondered if Sergei was going to take him with no preparation.
He was still slick and wet from the fucking hours before, but tight. Alex gasped as the large intrusion pushed into him. Sergei then fucked him hard.
In the restaurant Alex winced as he moved on his seat. It was pleasant to have at least a few friends wishing him the best on his 18th birthday. He did not regret coming back to Sergei. The man had made him feel at home, loved and protected. Olga gushed about Alex's poems. She said it was the best present ever when Alex had sent her a signed copy of his first publication. He stated his second volume was complied and due for publication in May. He really did not think it was a career, it was just good for getting his thoughts out. He had discussed it with Sergei and in the next few weeks he'd apply to Moscow University to get a fully rounded education. Alex had Russian, French, German and Spanish A Levels. Alex would do Literature or Foreign Languages, he really did love the Russian Language though.
He and Sergei left the restaurant on a high. Walking out into the cold bright afternoon onto a wide Parisian boulevard, the pair intent on walking back to the hotel. The pair chatted softly. Sergei hand guiding the teenager by the small of his back. Then Alex stopped abruptly as a dull crack resounded on the street. The tall blond fell to the ground and Sergei turned and saw blood in the boy's hair and on the concrete. With that glimpse, the two bodyguards had the russian down and behind the level of the passing traffic. Then a Range Rover screeched to a halt and Sergei was bundled away, as Alex Rider was left bleeding on the pavement.