And only the desert will know






Series. Laurie R. King’s Holmes/Russell books

Rating:  NC-17

Codes: Ali/Mahmoud (Alistair/Marsh)

Warnings: m/m-slash

Note: References to the books O’ Jerusalem and Justice Hall, but of course my own interpretation of them


Beta reader: Thanks to Lady Charena for the beta. For all remaining errors, blame me.

Summary: Ali’s and Mahmoud’s first time


Disclaimer: The characters in this story don’t belong to me but to Arthur Conan-Doyle and Laurie R. King. I only borrowed them for some fun. No moneymaking, no violation of copyrights are intended. The story is mine and it is just fanfiction. If you are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with this topic, then look elsewhere for your entertainment. English is not my native language, so please be patient with my mistakes.




“I’m so glad you’re here, finally… for ever.” Marsh’s – Mahmoud’s as Alistair remembered himself silently, it’s only Mahmoud here, Marsh was part of another life and left behind in England – sigh was accompanied by a tender caress of Ali’s – he even didn’t think of himself as Alistair any more - dark hair and a more passionate kiss on his already bearded mouth.


Ali, too, sighed heavily. “Me, too,” he said. And that was a mere understatement. In fact he was almost bursting with happiness. He hadn’t wasted any time after graduating from university, just had said his parents a brief good bye and then jumped onto the next boat to Cairo where his older cousin was already waiting for him. They had set off for the Palestine desert at instance.


He felt at home immediately. He had loved the land – dry and wild and inhospitable -  the very moment he sat his foot onto and his eyes upon it – some years ago when he had came to look for his relative, personally send out from the duke, Marsh’s father, himself. But instead of convincing Marsh to return home with him immediately, he had stayed too in the desert as long as he could. Finally they had nevertheless needed to go back to England, but Marsh had returned to Palestine as soon as possible with Alistair’s promise to come visiting at any chance and someday staying for ever.


Mahmoud snuggled even closer to his companion, stroking over his proud muscles, along his strong flank. It wasn’t cold in their goat-hair-tent so the only reason Ali shivered was from sheer pleasure over the sensational caress. 


“I wanted to do that to you… with you for so long. I hardly can count the time,” Mahmoud whispered, throwing a leg over his lovers, rubbing himself against Ali’s naked skin.


“Why haven’t you ever tried? I mean I wouldn’t have objected at all,” Ali answered, breathing already increased.


“At home? We never could have find a place secret enough for even a kiss. Probably if we had locked ourselves in the old stairway but I fear that would have proven somewhat uncomfortable,” Mahmoud answered. “And I wanted to wait until you’re staying here, before I approached you. Not during the holiday…”


Ali just nodded. Of course he was right. At Justice Hall the eyes and ears of the servants seemed to be everywhere. Surely Marsh could have ordered them to discretion but eventually his father had find out one way or the other. He didn’t wish to speculate what may happened then. And his owns family home didn’t have much more privacy. But if they had done it during one of his visits he never had left again – this he was sure. He never wanted to leave Mahmoud again.


“Have you ever done it?” Mahmoud interrupted his musings and nibbled tenderly on his neck.


“Never,” Ali sighed happily.


“Not even with a women?” came the reply, curiosity not really hidden from it.


“Some of the boys at the university trekked me once in one of this clubs… you know what I mean. I fled the instance I realised  where I was, claiming that I suddenly felt very ill. What in fact wasn’t such a big lie.”


It had brought him mockery for some weeks but finally it had ceased as other things became the focus of his companions interests. He just hadn’t want to be together with a woman, not then, not ever. He hadn’t want another man either.


“And you?” Ali asked curios.


“Only this one time with Iris and I was so drunk I hardly remember,” Mahmoud answered honestly and licked tenderly over Ali’s dark-haired chest.


Ali shivered again. This time not only from the pleasure Mahmoud gave to him with his mouth and tongue, but also of the memory as Marsh had asked him to be his witness at his wedding. At that very moment he had feared to loose him for ever. Not so much as a possible lover but just as the best friend Marsh had been to him since their childhood. He may never have dared to dream that their relationship would take this curse but he never could imagine a life without his friend at his side either. And then Marsh had told him that he was going to marry Iris, a distant relative, long-time friend - and a lesbian and that all was just about taking away the pressure both families had set open them and that he then would be free again to do what he really wanted. Alistair never had felt so relieved like at that moment.


“So how we are supposed to know what we shall do then?” Ali asked as Mahmoud liked further down his body. “That’s surely something they don’t teach at Eton and Cambridge.”


His companion raised his head and smiled. “I’m sure we’ll figure out easily, besides I interviewed Lionel’s friends as I once visited him in France.”


“Wasn’t that a bit risky? I mean if he had became suspicious and told your parents,” Ali answered.


 “He was so drunk then or drugged or both, he hardly realised I was there anyway. His friends weren’t in much better condition. I doubt anyone had remembered me the next day. But I had extract myself from their company rather quickly as their advances became somewhat overwhelming. I think not even on a great ball at Justice I got so much offers as there.” He smiled again.


“I can’t blame them,” Ali murmured.


“But they only one I ever wanted was you,” Mahmoud proclaimed and turned around with a swift movement to take his lover’s erect manhood into his mouth. Ali gasped at the suddenly increasing friction and felt himself unable to answer verbally. So he just reached out and tried to caress what ever portion of his lover’s skin he could touch.


Mahmoud licked around his shaft, then suckled delicately on it’s tip. After a while he shifted position, offering his own straining member to his lover. Ali didn’t need more encouragement. Without any hesitation he took the offered into his own mouth and tried to mirror his companion’s action. There was not the slightest hint of hesitation. Anything seemed so right and natural.


As Mahmoud let go of him after a while and also retrieved his penis from Ali’s eager mouth, Ali moaned with frustration.


“Love, let me have you, please. I want… I need you,” Mahmoud pleaded, his dark eyes glimmering with lust. Unable to make any coherent voice Ali just nodded.


“They said for the first time it would be better from behind, less painful probably at the entry” Mahmoud explained while he was rampaging through their baggage and finally retrieved a jar with some creme. “But I wish to see your face.”


“I can take it, don’t worry,” Ali managed to say, his gaze fixed upon Mahmoud who, smeared something of the creme onto his hard member.


“Oh, Allah” Ali breathed as his lover soon took property of his body. Mahmoud paused at the instant, anxiously looking down at his friend’s face. “I’m fine,” Ali managed to say and then reality seemed to fate away completely as they joined their bodies like their souls already seemed to be connected since ever.


* * *


“This was… just incredible;” Mahmoud sighed as he extracted himself from Ali’s body.


“I never had imagined it to be so good,” his lover agreed, still breathing heavily from the aftermath of their shared climax, which – as it seemed to him – had rocked the earth beneath them. He would ever have sworn that with Mahmoud things only could be good but imagine it to be so magnificent would have been outside his fantasy.


Mahmoud sunk at his side and suddenly started to laugh.


“Why are you laughing?” Ali asked quizzically.


“I was just thinking that being together with you has definitely the advantage that you can’t get pregnant,” came the answer.


“Do you miss him?” Ali asked anxiously, thinking about the boy Gabriel, Marsh’s and Iris’ child which they had secretly given away to Marsh’s brother and his wife, knowing that the last both wanted was a normal family life at Justice while Henry and Sarah had wished for a child sicken ten years. Alistair then had selfishly been relieved about the turn of the events around this unwanted pregnancy, had he feared again to loose Marsh.


“No…,” Mahmoud replied, rousing and grabbing for his clothes, while presenting his back to Ali. “Sometimes, yes,” he then added quietly.


“You regret…?”


“No, it was best so. For him... for all of us. Maalesh.” Mahmoud drove Ali’s clothing at him. “Better you get dressed again. Nights tend to be cold here and one never knows which four-, six- or eight-footed inhabitants of the desert may come to visit.”


“What will we do tomorrow?” Ali asked as he dressed.


Mahmoud gave him one of this typical Arabic shrugs he had accustomed to. “Just wandering around a bit, watching and hearing. I work as scribe for the people around sometimes. Or I read for them. And there’s a guy in Beersheva who want’s our eyes and ears, a English man:”


“Doing some good for King and Country?” Ali asked suspicious. This much sounded like a  spy-job.


Mahmoud nodded. “Seems that things with the Turk’s are becoming somewhat delicate those days,” he answered. “But don’t let us talk about business. After all we are here for freedom and this should be a special night.”


 He lay again down beside Ali and pulled him into his arms. “There’s one thing I want for sure tomorrow night,” he said tenderly and kissed his lover again. “Feeling you as you felt me today.”


Ali tensed. “You want me to take you?” he asked surprised. All his life Marsh had seemed to be the one who commanded their actions like those childhood-day as they spent midsummer solstice at the Circles. And now he wanted to succumb himself to him?


Mahmoud kissed him again. “Remember, here rank or title doesn’t count at all.  Here it’s just you and me, as equals.” He drove Ali in a fierce embrace and whispered into his ear. “My beloved brother.”




Continued in Arguments