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simeon_josueJosué woke with the first light, the camp outside still mostly quiet. In half an hour, Bibeau would arrive with his coffee and breakfast, and the day that followed would go much as the past day. But for now, he was still safely ensconced in his tent, as comfortable as one could be when marching into enemy territory. The furs were soft and warm around him and Simeon, who was so suspicious when awake, had relaxed in his arms, pressed so close that the alluring weight of his cock had come to rest on Josué’s thigh.
He could feel Simeon’s breath coming regular and warm against his throat, Simeon’s hair tickling against his chin. Was he dreaming of embracing Philippe? Josué smiled.
It didn’t matter. Last night, when he’d fallen asleep with his arm around Simeon, Simeon had stubbornly faced away from him—but he was less stubborn in his sleep. Simeon might not want to admit it, but in the past days Simeon’s body had indeed learned that it was Josué he could depend upon for comfort, warmth and food.
Slowly, without waking Simeon, Josué reached down until he felt the velvet-soft skin of Simeon’s cock against his fingertips. He teased it gently with the lightest of touches, like one might caress a shy animal, and while Simeon kept breathing quietly against his throat, his cock stirred after a moment and stretched towards his fingers.
Josué kept teasing him slowly, running his fingertips along the length of him in appreciation until Simeon was hard and firm against his thigh, his breath coming faster. Then Josué regretfully pulled away, wrapping his arm around Simeon’s waist once more and relaxing against him.
It didn’t take long until Simeon stirred in his sleep. With a soft, breathless sound, he pressed himself against Josué’s thigh, rubbing slowly against him. It was hard not to smile—there was something almost innocent to the motion, even though the sheer size of him was anything but innocent.
A moment later, Simeon gasped and finally woke. For a few precious heartbeats, he didn’t seem to realize where he was or what he was doing, clinging to Josué—and then Simeon’s eyes opened wide and he stared at him, looking crestfallen when he realized that Josué was awake and that he couldn’t scuttle away to pretend it had never happened.
“Good morning,” Josué said brightly.
It was a good morning. Simeon’s face flushed before his lips tightened and he finally turned away. It was a pity to lose the sensation of the hot, needy cock against his skin, but Josué refrained from reaching out for Simeon.
“Do you want my help with it?” he asked. “We have to rise and wash. There’s not much time, and you probably don’t want to go out like that.”
Simeon’s shoulders tensed. “I don’t need your help,” he said curtly, and then pushed away the covers.
Josué shivered at the cold morning air, his own arousal reluctantly starting to fade.
“It wouldn’t have taken long,” he said. “Didn’t take long last night. But suit yourself. You might be right though—it’s better to have something to look forward to on a long march.”
Simeon didn’t answer him, still facing away from him, body tense.
Josué gave him another minute, then shrugged on his shirt. “Ready?” he asked.
Reluctantly, Simeon reached out for his own shirt. When he drew it over his head, Josué watched in appreciation as the muscles of his stomach flexed—and there between his naked thighs, he could glimpse Simeon’s cock, still half-hard.
The shirt would suffice to hide it—as long as Simeon managed to rid himself of that unwanted erection before they made it to the shore of the lake, Josué thought with a smile. Still, it was flattering how easy it was to rile him. Simeon’s body knew what it wanted, as much as Simeon wanted to deny it.
The water was cold. The sun had just barely risen over the horizon, but all around them, men were already up and performing their ablutions.
Josué stripped off his shirt and left it at the shore before he waded into the lake without looking back. A few moments later, he could hear gentle splashing as Simeon followed him.
There were naked men in the water all around them, but Josué paid them no heed. He waded in just far enough, then submerged himself and swam a few lengths, reappearing with his body covered in goosebumps from the coldness of the water and a smile on his face.
When he turned, he could see that Simeon had made his way far enough into the water that it came up to his waist. Simeon was watching him, half-suspicious, half-thoughtful, but when he saw Josué return his gaze, he hastily turned away.
As Josué leisurely moved towards him, Simeon began washing himself, pointedly ignoring him. A few of the nearby men called out a greeting, and Josué raised his hand lazily.
Simeon looked up again, his gaze going back and forth between Josué and the men washing in the chilly water, as if he couldn’t believe that anyone would want to wish Josué a good morning.
Josué’s smile widened. He was close enough now to reach out and pat Simeon’s shoulder with a wet hand.
“You were right,” he said. “This has cooled my ardor. At least until the evening.”
Simeon didn’t laugh, but when Josué gestured towards the shore, he followed with a sigh. Once they’d made it back to Josué’s tent, they saw that Bibeau had indeed appeared with a pot of coffee, steaming in the cold morning air. They shared their breakfast, Simeon remaining quiet as he sipped his coffee while Josué dunked the last of a loaf of fine white bread into a pot of honey.
“It will be wheat cakes from tomorrow on, sir,” Bibeau said, still looking unreasonably cheerful. “But I’ve laid by a few more eggs.”
Josué nodded calmly. That was the way it went on a march such as this. As much as he enjoyed the good food he hadn’t been able to afford for most of his life, just like any other soldier in the company he could live on their rations of flour cakes, if it came down to it.
Simeon looked between them, then hesitantly ate his own bread and honey—wondering, Josué assumed, why he was still treated to Josué’s breakfast when as a deserter and a prisoner he was below even a common foot soldier.
Josué smiled contentedly as he finished the last of the coffee.
“Help Bibeau pack up the tent and then see to the horses,” he said. “Have the horses ready for departure when I return.”
Simeon still looked distrustful, one of his hands instinctively rising to the collar that surrounded his throat. Josué merely smiled at him before he turned to make his way towards the colonel’s tent. Let Simeon enjoy his moments of freedom. There was nowhere Simeon could run in a camp like this—especially now, when every man was aware of who he was.
Josué arrived only moments before Remy for the morning’s orders. Archambeau had his map spread out on a small table, his tent already packed, and his orderly standing ready to stow away table and maps as well once they were done.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” Archambeau gestured for them to come close. “Let’s make this quick; I don’t expect any surprises today. We haven’t made it far enough into the mountains to have to worry about Gabrada, and our allies assure me that the passes are quiet and deserted. Nothing is stirring in Gabrada’s foothills.”
“If we can believe our so-called allies,” Josué said, and Archambeau smiled.
“I do believe so,” he said, “but that is of course no reason not to be careful. I expect all of you to be watchful—but our main concern today is to travel quickly, and quietly. Our progress will slow soon enough, once the terrain becomes more difficult. Let’s get the men and the ponies used to the mountains while travel is easy and we can shelter in one of the valleys at day’s end.”
Archambeau leaned forward, his finger following an invisible line between two mountain peaks. “Another ascent today—slow and easy, I am told—and a descent into the next valley. Keep order, in case the men get reckless. Ensure silence and discipline. That’s all for today. Lieutenant Remy, pick a man or two and scout ahead with one of our allies.”
Archambeau nodded towards the left, where now, Josué saw with sinking feeling, Allard approached, his mien momentarily darkening when his gaze settled on Josué.
“Any other questions?”
“No, sir,” Josué said and rose, meeting Allard’s eyes coolly. “I will ready the men.”
Allard’s lips twisted slightly before he turned towards Remy as if Josué didn’t exist, and Josué gritted his teeth and made his way back to his tent, suddenly regretting his decision to let Simeon roam free without chains.
Back where his tent had stood, Bibeau was packing a last few utensils. Simeon was nowhere to be seen—which shouldn’t have surprised Josué, given that he’d told him to ready the horses.
Nevertheless, after his encounter with Allard, he couldn’t help but watch for him impatiently, wondering once again whether he’d been giving him too much freedom too soon. Surely there was no way Simeon would manage to run from a camp full of soldiers who all knew that he had a reason to want to escape? The horse lines would be busy at this time of the morning, with all the other ponies getting readied for the march. Simeon wouldn’t be able to just saddle a pony and ride off, not with so many eyes on him.
When Simeon arrived with the two ponies a few minutes later, Josué felt a rush of relief that he hastily tried to mask with impatience.
“Took you long enough,” he said.
Simeon looked up, his jaw tightening. “You told me help Bibeau before I prepared the horses,” he said. “Lieutenant.”
He had the stubborn look of an innocent man accused of a wrongdoing, and Josué felt guilty for a moment, remembering how at ease Simeon had seemed last evening by the fire. Simeon hadn’t even seen Allard, and Allard would be off scouting with Remy today. There was no need to worry.
“How are these two today?” he asked by way of an apology—not that he owed Simeon an apology. He held out his hand to the gray mare, who sniffed it politely, then raised her head to give him an unimpressed stare.
“Well-fed and rested,” Simeon said.
Josué smiled at the mare and reached into his pocket. He’d saved a crust of bread and now broke it in two to feed half to her and half to his bay gelding, who’d waited patiently for his turn.
“Tell me about the paths we are taking today,” he then demanded while Bibeau began to fasten the packs to the mare’s harness.
Simeon paused a moment to look around, eying the mountains that rose around them. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t take you further than the next valley. It’s a good spot to rest. If you forced the men to march quickly, you could get another two or three hours’ march out of them—but that would leave you stranded up on a mountain ridge when night falls, with no shelter at all, and no water or grazing for the ponies.”
“We will stop in the next valley,” Josué agreed.
“In that case, the path we’ll take will be an easy ascent.” Simeon turned to their right and pointed to where a stripe of green ran upwards—a long, gentle incline. “This is where we start. We’ll slowly wind our way upwards. For a while, we will go up and down—it looks easy enough from here, but there aren’t many paths suitable for men with horses. It will be afternoon by the time we reach a place where we can take the ponies down into the next valley. There will be stream; perhaps you’ll dine on trout again in the evening.”
Josué nodded again. Simeon’s path was the same as the route the colonel had worked out with their guides.
“Good,” he said, then, “Come here.”
Simeon’s eyes immediately narrowed again, but he stepped forward all the same. With a smile, Josué retrieved the chain from where he’d stowed it away the past evening. It made a satisfying, metallic sound as it was affixed to Simeon’s collar once more. Josué’s smile widened a little. The he reached out to run his finger lightly around the collar.
“It doesn’t hurt?” he asked, even though he could see for himself that it had been fitted well—there were no sores, no bruises.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Simeon said reluctantly, his glare as affronted as that of the little mare had been.
*
Just as Simeon had promised, the day did indeed start with an easy ascent up the gentle incline of verdant grass. Josué’s bay pony steadily carried him upwards, and the pack animals carrying their supplies followed. The men especially were cheerful—the morning sun was gentle, and while they might wish for shade once the sun stood high above them, these were experienced veterans who knew just how bad such a march could get. No one wanted to march through a storm, wet to the bone and sinking deep into mud.
Every now and then Josué turned to watch Simeon’s progress. Despite the chain in his hand, Josué felt better when he knew exactly where he was, although there was no way Simeon could slip his chains while surrounded by so many men.
When the path got steeper, Josué dismounted to lead his pony instead. He slowed a little so that he could walk next to Simeon, who watched him warily but didn’t say anything, the chain jingling between them. Finally, when they’d made it to the top of the incline, the grass giving way to dusty rock beneath their feet, Simeon seemed to find his voice again.
“You know there’s no need for that chain,” he said accusingly. “Where would I go? We’re surrounded by your men.”
“Maybe I like knowing I’ve got you at my beck and call.” Josué gave the chain a little tug, just because he could.
Simeon stumbled towards him with another affronted look, catching himself before he ended him in Josué’s arms, and took a demonstrative step backward. With a sigh, Josué slackened the chain again.
“You haven’t yet proved to me that I can trust you,” he then said. “If that’s your goal—to become someone I can trust to work by my side, without chains to bind you—then this journey is your chance. I hope that by the end of it, I can entrust you with a weapon, and that there will be no more need for ropes or chains.”
“And you’ll expect me to come crawling into your tent regardless,” Simeon said bitterly.
“Of course.” Josué laughed, amused that Simeon was still trying to deny what they both knew was true. “Already it doesn’t take chains to keep you by my side at night. I think by the end of this journey, you’ll stop looking for excuses for what you want.”
Simeon had no reply to that either and kept his stubborn silence.
Before them stretched another green valley. But just as Simeon had explained, the long line of men and ponies instead proceeded to make their way slowly up and down an endless stretch of rocky terrain until the mountain that had loomed to their left was firmly at their back. By that time the sun was high in the sky, and as they paused near a miserable trickle of water that seemed barely enough for the men, let alone the ponies, Josué looked down into the valley that stretched invitingly to their right.
“It’s no use,” Simeon said, following his gaze. “If we descend here, the only way out of that valley will lead us north and then east. We’d end up on the wrong side of the mountains again.”
Josué knelt to refill his canteen, then drank, watching as Simeon painstakingly began to fill a bucket to let the ponies drink. The chain jingled with every step he made.
“There’ll be enough water to drink your fill at the end of our path,” Simeon murmured, stroking the gray mare’s neck. “Do you know where we’re going? I don’t think you’ve ever traveled that far. There are greener valleys this side of the mountains.”
This time, Josué let the chain hang slack, resisting the urge to pull Simeon close by it. Only when Simeon had finished and had finally drunk himself did he crook a finger to beckon him close. Simeon’s nostrils flared with instant suspicion, but he approached obediently.
Josué pointed at the ground in front of the rock he was sitting on. “Rest. We’ll start again soon enough.”
Just in time, Bibeau appeared. They had finished off the bread in the morning, but Josué accepted the flour cakes Bibeau brought without protest. They were accompanied by a handful of plums, sharp, white goat’s cheese, and two boiled eggs.
“Apples from tomorrow on,” Bibeau said, looking pleased with himself. “But I’ll have you in eggs until we’ve made it across the mountains.”
Josué threw a hard-boiled egg at Simeon.
“Or at least for a few more days,” Bibeau said mournfully, watching him.
Josué knew that he might regret his generosity soon enough—but unlike the mare, Simeon’s trust couldn’t be won with a hard crust of bread. And in truth, Josué didn’t mind that much. He’d often enough survived on half rations with the men when things got tough. Better to use up his fresh provisions now before they could spoil.
They’d eat well enough once this mission was over—a feast of roast pheasant and boar and rich Gabradian wine, and Simeon on a bed of Gabradian silk.
“Eat up,” he told Simeon and smiled. “It’s a long journey.”
*
The rest of the day progressed as Simeon had said it would. Eventually, they left the beckoning valley with its green slopes behind as they continued to wind their way along the rocks, halfway circling around the mountain until at last, a new vista opened up before them: a valley just as invitingly green, cut in half by a stream of water that sprang forth from the side of the mountain that formed the northern end of the valley.
Josué could see now why Simeon had insisted that they could not descend earlier that day: the ridge that divided this valley from the next was high and ragged. Neither men nor ponies could climb such a cliff.
They arrived at the stream with two hours to spare before sunset.
“It’s best to rest here,” Simeon said again when he saw Josué thoughtfully eye the mountains around them. “Tomorrow, we go there.” He pointed at a ridge of bare rock that ran between two peaks to the west. “If we travel on, we’d end up there by sundown. Best to gather our strength here and start early tomorrow.”
Josué inclined his head. In any case, it was what Archambeau and their guides had decided on in the morning. Still, it was gratifying to see that he hadn’t been wrong when he’d told the colonel that Simeon would be useful.
Simeon knew as much as he’d claimed he knew. Now that Josué had been able to observe him out here in the mountains, he had no doubt that Simeon was as familiar with these paths as the mountain men he’d lived among.
Which left just one final problem. Could Josué trust Simeon enough follow his guidance?
Perhaps that was a problem best left for another day. For now, they had guides to lead them over the mountains; they didn’t depend on Simeon. He’d worry about how far he could trust Simeon when a problem arose that couldn’t be solved another way.
“You know what to do,” he told Simeon when he dismounted, releasing the chain at last. “See to our ponies. Make sure they’re rubbed down. Then return and help Bibeau, if he isn’t done yet.”
Josué eyed the peaks and the barren ridge awaiting them as he walked to make his report to the colonel. It would be a steep ascent, but manageable for the ponies. Regardless, it wasn’t a bad idea to make sure that the men were well rested for the climb.
Archambeau didn’t keep them long. He, too, was content with their progress so far. They shared a glass of brandy as they listened to Remy’s report, who’d ridden ahead to scout with Allard, and who agreed that this part of the mountains seemed as quiet and empty of Gabradian spies as the mountain men had promised.
“Let us hope it stays that way,” Archambeau murmured as he downed his brandy. “Set the watch, Lieutenant, and get some rest. I will see you all in the morning.”
By the time Josué returned to where he had left Simeon, Bibeau had raised his tent and had another small fire burning. Simeon had returned as well, kneeling by the side of the fire as he assisted Bibeau, feeding the flames new sticks.
Today, Bibeau had a rabbit for them that was currently stewing in a pot over the fire in red wine—falling foul of a trap set by another of his friends, no doubt.
It wasn’t yet dark, so Josué used the rare hour of free time to retrieve the book on tactics Archambeau had lent him. He read by the side of the fire while Simeon stirred the stew every now and then according to Bibeau’s instructions. When the sky above them turned orange and red, the mountaintops glowing as if they were crowned in fire, he let his book sink and accepted the plate Bibeau handed him. The stew was good, fragrant with wild thyme, and followed by apples Bibeau had baked in the fire.
Once Bibeau began cleaning, Josué rose for one last round through the camp to make certain that everything was in order.
“You can come if you want,” he told Simeon, who hesitated, but then rose as well.
The sight brought a smile to Josué’s face. It wouldn’t do to let the men only see Simeon at the end of a chain. If he wanted Simeon to become a part of the company eventually, the men would have to accept him as one of their own.
Above them, the peaks gleamed one last time as the reds and oranges began to fade to purple, the sun nearly below the horizon now. Josué turned to watch Simeon as they approached the horse line.
“Isn’t this much better?” he said softly. “Surely you must prefer it this way, with no chains on you?”
“Of course I do,” Simeon said, his brows drawing together. “You talk as if that’s my choice to make.”
Josué laughed. “It is. It’s a choice you make yourself—pride versus freedom.”
This time, Simeon only sighed instead of trying to argue. All in all, Josué thoughts, things were going as he’d hoped they would.
The men eyed Simeon curiously when Josué strode through the camp, stopping at a fire here and there to exchange a few words and make certain that everyone remembered the need to draw as little attention as possible, regardless of how unlikely it was that they should encounter spies this early in their journey.
A few men chuckled and nudged each other, but they all knew Josué well enough to behave themselves in his presence. In any case, they’d have a while to get used to each other. As much as Simeon had hated Josué at the time for the humiliation he’d suffered, he’d realize in time that Josué had given him an easy way out—and the men would quickly forget and forgive. After the next battle, if Simeon made it that far, he’d be one of them.
Josué had left Sergeant Lamar to draw up the watch roster, and after Josué had taken a quick look and approved it, he continued to walk the perimeter of the camp with Simeon. Near the stream, they came across three men fishing, and Josué raised a hand in greeting but didn’t speak so as not to drive the fish away. Knowing Bibeau, they might have some of the fish tomorrow, if the anglers were lucky.
When they arrived at the horse line, Josué’s bay pony nickered softly in greeting. The mare, smart and watchful, turned her ears towards him but remained silent.
Josué ran his hand over the gelding’s back, then felt his legs before repeating the same ritual with the little gray mare. Both had been brushed down as he’d ordered—their coats were clean and dry, their legs showing no swelling or excessive heat.
Simeon watched him, as suspicious as the mare in his own way. “I wouldn’t neglect them out of spite,” he said at last, affronted. “If I’m displeased with you, there are ways to show it that don’t involve the wellbeing of an animal.”
Josué straightened and smiled. “I believe you. But I like to keep an eye on my animals. I don’t make a habit of neglect either, especially when my life depends on something.”
“That’s true,” Simeon said after a moment, his lips twisting a little. “They’re like a weapon to you—and I’m the same. A useful possession that has to be kept in working order.”
Josué stroked the chin of the mare when she came nosing at his coat. He reached into his pocket with a smile.
“We’re out of bread,” he told her as he fed her a piece of wheat cake he’d saved up. “And Bibeau will be very mad indeed if I get into his stash of apples.”
She chewed her treat, sniffing his hand, then turned calmly away.
His gelding received the same treatment, and when he turned back to Simeon, he found him watching with a strange expression.
Josué tilted his head. “Jealous?” he inquired in amusement, turning out his pocket to show that he had no more treats. “If I’d known you were expecting a reward to come walk with me...”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Simeon muttered and turned away. They walked quietly together for a few minutes, circling back around the camp, before Simeon finally spoke again.
“You treat those ponies better than you treated me,” he said quietly.
“I asked you to walk with me,” Josué said. “Some would think of that as a reward.”
“Do you really think it’s that easy to twist me into what you want me to be?” Simeon asked. “That it’s so easy for me to forget?”
“Most people forget easily. Right now, the men think of you as a deserter. Give it a few weeks, and they’ll be ready to accept you among them. If you fight with them, you’re one of them. It’s that easy. There’s no place for the past on a battlefield.”
“I wish it were that easy for me,” Simeon said bitterly.
“It could be.” Josué stopped. “If you reach out for this chance I’m giving you and grasp it with both hands, if you truly want it and work for it with all you’ve got, everything else will soon fall away. You can give your life a new meaning if you want to. This could fill your life, just as those mountain folk once did. When this campaign is over, you could be one of my men once more—and you would be one of them if you fought by their side.”
“But that’s not all I’d be, is it?”
Josué shrugged, unconcerned. “Right now you’re still a prisoner. You’re my responsibility. I took a large risk, saving your life; it’s only fair that I profit from it as well. It’s not going to damage your reputation, in any way; the men won’t look down on you for having caught an officer’s eye. On the contrary. In any case, if you prove your worth and the colonel accepts you back into the company, it’ll be your own choice whose bedroll you want to share.”
“Right,” Simeon said. “And you would accept a no.”
Josué moved a step forward, so that Simeon instinctively retreated—only to find himself with his back against a tree, unable to retreat further.
“Oh,” Josué said softly, noting the way Simeon swallowed when he leaned in, his breath ghosted against Simeon’s lips, “I don’t think you would say no...”
Josué watched as Simeon’s pupils widened. He rested one hand to the right of Simeon’s body, the tree’s bark rough against his palm. Then he leaned in. His lips brushed Simeon’s, who gasped softly but didn’t resist in any way, his eyes wide and shocked.
With their bodies pressed against each other, Josué could feel the heat of Simeon’s body, the strength of the firm limbs that could so easily push him away if Simeon wanted.
Instead, Simeon held himself very still. Against his thigh, Josué now felt the shape of Simeon’s cock, impressive even when soft.
When his tongue teased at Simeon’s mouth, Simeon gasped again. This time, Josué took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Simeon’s mouth, kissing him slowly, relishing every moment of feeling Simeon’s strength in his arms. The first time he’d kissed him, it had been a hungry kiss, both of them overwhelmed by desire. This kiss was slow, a deliberate surrender by Simeon—and a deliberate savoring of the sensation unclouded by the rush of desire for Josué.
Simeon shivered against him. A soft sound escaped him as Josué deepened the kiss, just as slowly and deliberately. When Josué drew back at last, Simeon appeared utterly stunned, his lips wet and swollen, his eyes halfway closed.
Josué smiled to himself. There really was no doubt about it. By the time this campaign was over, Simeon would be his, chains or no.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s get back before it turns dark.”
For the remainder of their walk, Simeon remained quiet, although Josué caught Simeon watching him a few times with an uncertain expression on his face. Josué ignored it, and once they’d made their way back, spoke once more to his sergeant before they retired to Josué’s tent.
Everything was as it should be—Bibeau had spread out his furs and blankets and laid out a clean shirt for the morning. The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon, painting the mountains jutting up towards the sky all around them in brilliant hues of orange.
The camp was quiet. The men had all been told that an exhausting climb awaited them tomorrow, and most had made use of the early stop today to rest—helped along by the fact that there wasn’t much else to do, far from towns, inns and brothels. Lucky the man who’d found a comrade to share his bedroll on such a campaign and had no need to seek for entertainment elsewhere…
Josué’s gaze swept back towards Simeon with proprietary pride.
Simeon had remained quiet after the kiss, looking faintly worried. He was watching the sinking sun set the peaks on fire, but didn’t resist when Josué took hold of his hand and pulled him towards the tent’s entrance with a smile.
“It’s early,” Josué said, “but it will be a long day tomorrow.”
Josué pulled off his own clothes, noting the way Simeon couldn’t help but watch before he guiltily turned away from him again.
“I don’t think you have rest in mind,” Simeon said quietly, but nevertheless began to strip as well as soon as Josué had slipped beneath the blankets.
Josué watched with unabashed appreciation as Simeon disrobed, then lifted a corner of the blanket for him.
“You’ll sleep better afterward.” Josué wrapped an arm around him to pull him close as soon as Simeon joined him, then slowly allowed his hand to drift downward until he found Simeon’s cock. “This deserves to be taken care of. I won’t have it said that I pay more attention to my ponies’ wellbeing than to yours.”
“It was doing fine before you appeared,” Simeon forced out through gritted teeth, and Josué laughed in response.
“Was it?” He ran a fingertip in a slow caress around the sensitive head and felt Simeon’s cock react eagerly, like a dog pushing up into its master’s caress. “There. I don’t think it agrees.”
He could feel Simeon’s breath coming regular and warm against his throat, Simeon’s hair tickling against his chin. Was he dreaming of embracing Philippe? Josué smiled.
It didn’t matter. Last night, when he’d fallen asleep with his arm around Simeon, Simeon had stubbornly faced away from him—but he was less stubborn in his sleep. Simeon might not want to admit it, but in the past days Simeon’s body had indeed learned that it was Josué he could depend upon for comfort, warmth and food.
Slowly, without waking Simeon, Josué reached down until he felt the velvet-soft skin of Simeon’s cock against his fingertips. He teased it gently with the lightest of touches, like one might caress a shy animal, and while Simeon kept breathing quietly against his throat, his cock stirred after a moment and stretched towards his fingers.
Josué kept teasing him slowly, running his fingertips along the length of him in appreciation until Simeon was hard and firm against his thigh, his breath coming faster. Then Josué regretfully pulled away, wrapping his arm around Simeon’s waist once more and relaxing against him.
It didn’t take long until Simeon stirred in his sleep. With a soft, breathless sound, he pressed himself against Josué’s thigh, rubbing slowly against him. It was hard not to smile—there was something almost innocent to the motion, even though the sheer size of him was anything but innocent.
A moment later, Simeon gasped and finally woke. For a few precious heartbeats, he didn’t seem to realize where he was or what he was doing, clinging to Josué—and then Simeon’s eyes opened wide and he stared at him, looking crestfallen when he realized that Josué was awake and that he couldn’t scuttle away to pretend it had never happened.
“Good morning,” Josué said brightly.
It was a good morning. Simeon’s face flushed before his lips tightened and he finally turned away. It was a pity to lose the sensation of the hot, needy cock against his skin, but Josué refrained from reaching out for Simeon.
“Do you want my help with it?” he asked. “We have to rise and wash. There’s not much time, and you probably don’t want to go out like that.”
Simeon’s shoulders tensed. “I don’t need your help,” he said curtly, and then pushed away the covers.
Josué shivered at the cold morning air, his own arousal reluctantly starting to fade.
“It wouldn’t have taken long,” he said. “Didn’t take long last night. But suit yourself. You might be right though—it’s better to have something to look forward to on a long march.”
Simeon didn’t answer him, still facing away from him, body tense.
Josué gave him another minute, then shrugged on his shirt. “Ready?” he asked.
Reluctantly, Simeon reached out for his own shirt. When he drew it over his head, Josué watched in appreciation as the muscles of his stomach flexed—and there between his naked thighs, he could glimpse Simeon’s cock, still half-hard.
The shirt would suffice to hide it—as long as Simeon managed to rid himself of that unwanted erection before they made it to the shore of the lake, Josué thought with a smile. Still, it was flattering how easy it was to rile him. Simeon’s body knew what it wanted, as much as Simeon wanted to deny it.
The water was cold. The sun had just barely risen over the horizon, but all around them, men were already up and performing their ablutions.
Josué stripped off his shirt and left it at the shore before he waded into the lake without looking back. A few moments later, he could hear gentle splashing as Simeon followed him.
There were naked men in the water all around them, but Josué paid them no heed. He waded in just far enough, then submerged himself and swam a few lengths, reappearing with his body covered in goosebumps from the coldness of the water and a smile on his face.
When he turned, he could see that Simeon had made his way far enough into the water that it came up to his waist. Simeon was watching him, half-suspicious, half-thoughtful, but when he saw Josué return his gaze, he hastily turned away.
As Josué leisurely moved towards him, Simeon began washing himself, pointedly ignoring him. A few of the nearby men called out a greeting, and Josué raised his hand lazily.
Simeon looked up again, his gaze going back and forth between Josué and the men washing in the chilly water, as if he couldn’t believe that anyone would want to wish Josué a good morning.
Josué’s smile widened. He was close enough now to reach out and pat Simeon’s shoulder with a wet hand.
“You were right,” he said. “This has cooled my ardor. At least until the evening.”
Simeon didn’t laugh, but when Josué gestured towards the shore, he followed with a sigh. Once they’d made it back to Josué’s tent, they saw that Bibeau had indeed appeared with a pot of coffee, steaming in the cold morning air. They shared their breakfast, Simeon remaining quiet as he sipped his coffee while Josué dunked the last of a loaf of fine white bread into a pot of honey.
“It will be wheat cakes from tomorrow on, sir,” Bibeau said, still looking unreasonably cheerful. “But I’ve laid by a few more eggs.”
Josué nodded calmly. That was the way it went on a march such as this. As much as he enjoyed the good food he hadn’t been able to afford for most of his life, just like any other soldier in the company he could live on their rations of flour cakes, if it came down to it.
Simeon looked between them, then hesitantly ate his own bread and honey—wondering, Josué assumed, why he was still treated to Josué’s breakfast when as a deserter and a prisoner he was below even a common foot soldier.
Josué smiled contentedly as he finished the last of the coffee.
“Help Bibeau pack up the tent and then see to the horses,” he said. “Have the horses ready for departure when I return.”
Simeon still looked distrustful, one of his hands instinctively rising to the collar that surrounded his throat. Josué merely smiled at him before he turned to make his way towards the colonel’s tent. Let Simeon enjoy his moments of freedom. There was nowhere Simeon could run in a camp like this—especially now, when every man was aware of who he was.
Josué arrived only moments before Remy for the morning’s orders. Archambeau had his map spread out on a small table, his tent already packed, and his orderly standing ready to stow away table and maps as well once they were done.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” Archambeau gestured for them to come close. “Let’s make this quick; I don’t expect any surprises today. We haven’t made it far enough into the mountains to have to worry about Gabrada, and our allies assure me that the passes are quiet and deserted. Nothing is stirring in Gabrada’s foothills.”
“If we can believe our so-called allies,” Josué said, and Archambeau smiled.
“I do believe so,” he said, “but that is of course no reason not to be careful. I expect all of you to be watchful—but our main concern today is to travel quickly, and quietly. Our progress will slow soon enough, once the terrain becomes more difficult. Let’s get the men and the ponies used to the mountains while travel is easy and we can shelter in one of the valleys at day’s end.”
Archambeau leaned forward, his finger following an invisible line between two mountain peaks. “Another ascent today—slow and easy, I am told—and a descent into the next valley. Keep order, in case the men get reckless. Ensure silence and discipline. That’s all for today. Lieutenant Remy, pick a man or two and scout ahead with one of our allies.”
Archambeau nodded towards the left, where now, Josué saw with sinking feeling, Allard approached, his mien momentarily darkening when his gaze settled on Josué.
“Any other questions?”
“No, sir,” Josué said and rose, meeting Allard’s eyes coolly. “I will ready the men.”
Allard’s lips twisted slightly before he turned towards Remy as if Josué didn’t exist, and Josué gritted his teeth and made his way back to his tent, suddenly regretting his decision to let Simeon roam free without chains.
Back where his tent had stood, Bibeau was packing a last few utensils. Simeon was nowhere to be seen—which shouldn’t have surprised Josué, given that he’d told him to ready the horses.
Nevertheless, after his encounter with Allard, he couldn’t help but watch for him impatiently, wondering once again whether he’d been giving him too much freedom too soon. Surely there was no way Simeon would manage to run from a camp full of soldiers who all knew that he had a reason to want to escape? The horse lines would be busy at this time of the morning, with all the other ponies getting readied for the march. Simeon wouldn’t be able to just saddle a pony and ride off, not with so many eyes on him.
When Simeon arrived with the two ponies a few minutes later, Josué felt a rush of relief that he hastily tried to mask with impatience.
“Took you long enough,” he said.
Simeon looked up, his jaw tightening. “You told me help Bibeau before I prepared the horses,” he said. “Lieutenant.”
He had the stubborn look of an innocent man accused of a wrongdoing, and Josué felt guilty for a moment, remembering how at ease Simeon had seemed last evening by the fire. Simeon hadn’t even seen Allard, and Allard would be off scouting with Remy today. There was no need to worry.
“How are these two today?” he asked by way of an apology—not that he owed Simeon an apology. He held out his hand to the gray mare, who sniffed it politely, then raised her head to give him an unimpressed stare.
“Well-fed and rested,” Simeon said.
Josué smiled at the mare and reached into his pocket. He’d saved a crust of bread and now broke it in two to feed half to her and half to his bay gelding, who’d waited patiently for his turn.
“Tell me about the paths we are taking today,” he then demanded while Bibeau began to fasten the packs to the mare’s harness.
Simeon paused a moment to look around, eying the mountains that rose around them. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t take you further than the next valley. It’s a good spot to rest. If you forced the men to march quickly, you could get another two or three hours’ march out of them—but that would leave you stranded up on a mountain ridge when night falls, with no shelter at all, and no water or grazing for the ponies.”
“We will stop in the next valley,” Josué agreed.
“In that case, the path we’ll take will be an easy ascent.” Simeon turned to their right and pointed to where a stripe of green ran upwards—a long, gentle incline. “This is where we start. We’ll slowly wind our way upwards. For a while, we will go up and down—it looks easy enough from here, but there aren’t many paths suitable for men with horses. It will be afternoon by the time we reach a place where we can take the ponies down into the next valley. There will be stream; perhaps you’ll dine on trout again in the evening.”
Josué nodded again. Simeon’s path was the same as the route the colonel had worked out with their guides.
“Good,” he said, then, “Come here.”
Simeon’s eyes immediately narrowed again, but he stepped forward all the same. With a smile, Josué retrieved the chain from where he’d stowed it away the past evening. It made a satisfying, metallic sound as it was affixed to Simeon’s collar once more. Josué’s smile widened a little. The he reached out to run his finger lightly around the collar.
“It doesn’t hurt?” he asked, even though he could see for himself that it had been fitted well—there were no sores, no bruises.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Simeon said reluctantly, his glare as affronted as that of the little mare had been.
*
Just as Simeon had promised, the day did indeed start with an easy ascent up the gentle incline of verdant grass. Josué’s bay pony steadily carried him upwards, and the pack animals carrying their supplies followed. The men especially were cheerful—the morning sun was gentle, and while they might wish for shade once the sun stood high above them, these were experienced veterans who knew just how bad such a march could get. No one wanted to march through a storm, wet to the bone and sinking deep into mud.
Every now and then Josué turned to watch Simeon’s progress. Despite the chain in his hand, Josué felt better when he knew exactly where he was, although there was no way Simeon could slip his chains while surrounded by so many men.
When the path got steeper, Josué dismounted to lead his pony instead. He slowed a little so that he could walk next to Simeon, who watched him warily but didn’t say anything, the chain jingling between them. Finally, when they’d made it to the top of the incline, the grass giving way to dusty rock beneath their feet, Simeon seemed to find his voice again.
“You know there’s no need for that chain,” he said accusingly. “Where would I go? We’re surrounded by your men.”
“Maybe I like knowing I’ve got you at my beck and call.” Josué gave the chain a little tug, just because he could.
Simeon stumbled towards him with another affronted look, catching himself before he ended him in Josué’s arms, and took a demonstrative step backward. With a sigh, Josué slackened the chain again.
“You haven’t yet proved to me that I can trust you,” he then said. “If that’s your goal—to become someone I can trust to work by my side, without chains to bind you—then this journey is your chance. I hope that by the end of it, I can entrust you with a weapon, and that there will be no more need for ropes or chains.”
“And you’ll expect me to come crawling into your tent regardless,” Simeon said bitterly.
“Of course.” Josué laughed, amused that Simeon was still trying to deny what they both knew was true. “Already it doesn’t take chains to keep you by my side at night. I think by the end of this journey, you’ll stop looking for excuses for what you want.”
Simeon had no reply to that either and kept his stubborn silence.
Before them stretched another green valley. But just as Simeon had explained, the long line of men and ponies instead proceeded to make their way slowly up and down an endless stretch of rocky terrain until the mountain that had loomed to their left was firmly at their back. By that time the sun was high in the sky, and as they paused near a miserable trickle of water that seemed barely enough for the men, let alone the ponies, Josué looked down into the valley that stretched invitingly to their right.
“It’s no use,” Simeon said, following his gaze. “If we descend here, the only way out of that valley will lead us north and then east. We’d end up on the wrong side of the mountains again.”
Josué knelt to refill his canteen, then drank, watching as Simeon painstakingly began to fill a bucket to let the ponies drink. The chain jingled with every step he made.
“There’ll be enough water to drink your fill at the end of our path,” Simeon murmured, stroking the gray mare’s neck. “Do you know where we’re going? I don’t think you’ve ever traveled that far. There are greener valleys this side of the mountains.”
This time, Josué let the chain hang slack, resisting the urge to pull Simeon close by it. Only when Simeon had finished and had finally drunk himself did he crook a finger to beckon him close. Simeon’s nostrils flared with instant suspicion, but he approached obediently.
Josué pointed at the ground in front of the rock he was sitting on. “Rest. We’ll start again soon enough.”
Just in time, Bibeau appeared. They had finished off the bread in the morning, but Josué accepted the flour cakes Bibeau brought without protest. They were accompanied by a handful of plums, sharp, white goat’s cheese, and two boiled eggs.
“Apples from tomorrow on,” Bibeau said, looking pleased with himself. “But I’ll have you in eggs until we’ve made it across the mountains.”
Josué threw a hard-boiled egg at Simeon.
“Or at least for a few more days,” Bibeau said mournfully, watching him.
Josué knew that he might regret his generosity soon enough—but unlike the mare, Simeon’s trust couldn’t be won with a hard crust of bread. And in truth, Josué didn’t mind that much. He’d often enough survived on half rations with the men when things got tough. Better to use up his fresh provisions now before they could spoil.
They’d eat well enough once this mission was over—a feast of roast pheasant and boar and rich Gabradian wine, and Simeon on a bed of Gabradian silk.
“Eat up,” he told Simeon and smiled. “It’s a long journey.”
*
The rest of the day progressed as Simeon had said it would. Eventually, they left the beckoning valley with its green slopes behind as they continued to wind their way along the rocks, halfway circling around the mountain until at last, a new vista opened up before them: a valley just as invitingly green, cut in half by a stream of water that sprang forth from the side of the mountain that formed the northern end of the valley.
Josué could see now why Simeon had insisted that they could not descend earlier that day: the ridge that divided this valley from the next was high and ragged. Neither men nor ponies could climb such a cliff.
They arrived at the stream with two hours to spare before sunset.
“It’s best to rest here,” Simeon said again when he saw Josué thoughtfully eye the mountains around them. “Tomorrow, we go there.” He pointed at a ridge of bare rock that ran between two peaks to the west. “If we travel on, we’d end up there by sundown. Best to gather our strength here and start early tomorrow.”
Josué inclined his head. In any case, it was what Archambeau and their guides had decided on in the morning. Still, it was gratifying to see that he hadn’t been wrong when he’d told the colonel that Simeon would be useful.
Simeon knew as much as he’d claimed he knew. Now that Josué had been able to observe him out here in the mountains, he had no doubt that Simeon was as familiar with these paths as the mountain men he’d lived among.
Which left just one final problem. Could Josué trust Simeon enough follow his guidance?
Perhaps that was a problem best left for another day. For now, they had guides to lead them over the mountains; they didn’t depend on Simeon. He’d worry about how far he could trust Simeon when a problem arose that couldn’t be solved another way.
“You know what to do,” he told Simeon when he dismounted, releasing the chain at last. “See to our ponies. Make sure they’re rubbed down. Then return and help Bibeau, if he isn’t done yet.”
Josué eyed the peaks and the barren ridge awaiting them as he walked to make his report to the colonel. It would be a steep ascent, but manageable for the ponies. Regardless, it wasn’t a bad idea to make sure that the men were well rested for the climb.
Archambeau didn’t keep them long. He, too, was content with their progress so far. They shared a glass of brandy as they listened to Remy’s report, who’d ridden ahead to scout with Allard, and who agreed that this part of the mountains seemed as quiet and empty of Gabradian spies as the mountain men had promised.
“Let us hope it stays that way,” Archambeau murmured as he downed his brandy. “Set the watch, Lieutenant, and get some rest. I will see you all in the morning.”
By the time Josué returned to where he had left Simeon, Bibeau had raised his tent and had another small fire burning. Simeon had returned as well, kneeling by the side of the fire as he assisted Bibeau, feeding the flames new sticks.
Today, Bibeau had a rabbit for them that was currently stewing in a pot over the fire in red wine—falling foul of a trap set by another of his friends, no doubt.
It wasn’t yet dark, so Josué used the rare hour of free time to retrieve the book on tactics Archambeau had lent him. He read by the side of the fire while Simeon stirred the stew every now and then according to Bibeau’s instructions. When the sky above them turned orange and red, the mountaintops glowing as if they were crowned in fire, he let his book sink and accepted the plate Bibeau handed him. The stew was good, fragrant with wild thyme, and followed by apples Bibeau had baked in the fire.
Once Bibeau began cleaning, Josué rose for one last round through the camp to make certain that everything was in order.
“You can come if you want,” he told Simeon, who hesitated, but then rose as well.
The sight brought a smile to Josué’s face. It wouldn’t do to let the men only see Simeon at the end of a chain. If he wanted Simeon to become a part of the company eventually, the men would have to accept him as one of their own.
Above them, the peaks gleamed one last time as the reds and oranges began to fade to purple, the sun nearly below the horizon now. Josué turned to watch Simeon as they approached the horse line.
“Isn’t this much better?” he said softly. “Surely you must prefer it this way, with no chains on you?”
“Of course I do,” Simeon said, his brows drawing together. “You talk as if that’s my choice to make.”
Josué laughed. “It is. It’s a choice you make yourself—pride versus freedom.”
This time, Simeon only sighed instead of trying to argue. All in all, Josué thoughts, things were going as he’d hoped they would.
The men eyed Simeon curiously when Josué strode through the camp, stopping at a fire here and there to exchange a few words and make certain that everyone remembered the need to draw as little attention as possible, regardless of how unlikely it was that they should encounter spies this early in their journey.
A few men chuckled and nudged each other, but they all knew Josué well enough to behave themselves in his presence. In any case, they’d have a while to get used to each other. As much as Simeon had hated Josué at the time for the humiliation he’d suffered, he’d realize in time that Josué had given him an easy way out—and the men would quickly forget and forgive. After the next battle, if Simeon made it that far, he’d be one of them.
Josué had left Sergeant Lamar to draw up the watch roster, and after Josué had taken a quick look and approved it, he continued to walk the perimeter of the camp with Simeon. Near the stream, they came across three men fishing, and Josué raised a hand in greeting but didn’t speak so as not to drive the fish away. Knowing Bibeau, they might have some of the fish tomorrow, if the anglers were lucky.
When they arrived at the horse line, Josué’s bay pony nickered softly in greeting. The mare, smart and watchful, turned her ears towards him but remained silent.
Josué ran his hand over the gelding’s back, then felt his legs before repeating the same ritual with the little gray mare. Both had been brushed down as he’d ordered—their coats were clean and dry, their legs showing no swelling or excessive heat.
Simeon watched him, as suspicious as the mare in his own way. “I wouldn’t neglect them out of spite,” he said at last, affronted. “If I’m displeased with you, there are ways to show it that don’t involve the wellbeing of an animal.”
Josué straightened and smiled. “I believe you. But I like to keep an eye on my animals. I don’t make a habit of neglect either, especially when my life depends on something.”
“That’s true,” Simeon said after a moment, his lips twisting a little. “They’re like a weapon to you—and I’m the same. A useful possession that has to be kept in working order.”
Josué stroked the chin of the mare when she came nosing at his coat. He reached into his pocket with a smile.
“We’re out of bread,” he told her as he fed her a piece of wheat cake he’d saved up. “And Bibeau will be very mad indeed if I get into his stash of apples.”
She chewed her treat, sniffing his hand, then turned calmly away.
His gelding received the same treatment, and when he turned back to Simeon, he found him watching with a strange expression.
Josué tilted his head. “Jealous?” he inquired in amusement, turning out his pocket to show that he had no more treats. “If I’d known you were expecting a reward to come walk with me...”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Simeon muttered and turned away. They walked quietly together for a few minutes, circling back around the camp, before Simeon finally spoke again.
“You treat those ponies better than you treated me,” he said quietly.
“I asked you to walk with me,” Josué said. “Some would think of that as a reward.”
“Do you really think it’s that easy to twist me into what you want me to be?” Simeon asked. “That it’s so easy for me to forget?”
“Most people forget easily. Right now, the men think of you as a deserter. Give it a few weeks, and they’ll be ready to accept you among them. If you fight with them, you’re one of them. It’s that easy. There’s no place for the past on a battlefield.”
“I wish it were that easy for me,” Simeon said bitterly.
“It could be.” Josué stopped. “If you reach out for this chance I’m giving you and grasp it with both hands, if you truly want it and work for it with all you’ve got, everything else will soon fall away. You can give your life a new meaning if you want to. This could fill your life, just as those mountain folk once did. When this campaign is over, you could be one of my men once more—and you would be one of them if you fought by their side.”
“But that’s not all I’d be, is it?”
Josué shrugged, unconcerned. “Right now you’re still a prisoner. You’re my responsibility. I took a large risk, saving your life; it’s only fair that I profit from it as well. It’s not going to damage your reputation, in any way; the men won’t look down on you for having caught an officer’s eye. On the contrary. In any case, if you prove your worth and the colonel accepts you back into the company, it’ll be your own choice whose bedroll you want to share.”
“Right,” Simeon said. “And you would accept a no.”
Josué moved a step forward, so that Simeon instinctively retreated—only to find himself with his back against a tree, unable to retreat further.
“Oh,” Josué said softly, noting the way Simeon swallowed when he leaned in, his breath ghosted against Simeon’s lips, “I don’t think you would say no...”
Josué watched as Simeon’s pupils widened. He rested one hand to the right of Simeon’s body, the tree’s bark rough against his palm. Then he leaned in. His lips brushed Simeon’s, who gasped softly but didn’t resist in any way, his eyes wide and shocked.
With their bodies pressed against each other, Josué could feel the heat of Simeon’s body, the strength of the firm limbs that could so easily push him away if Simeon wanted.
Instead, Simeon held himself very still. Against his thigh, Josué now felt the shape of Simeon’s cock, impressive even when soft.
When his tongue teased at Simeon’s mouth, Simeon gasped again. This time, Josué took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Simeon’s mouth, kissing him slowly, relishing every moment of feeling Simeon’s strength in his arms. The first time he’d kissed him, it had been a hungry kiss, both of them overwhelmed by desire. This kiss was slow, a deliberate surrender by Simeon—and a deliberate savoring of the sensation unclouded by the rush of desire for Josué.
Simeon shivered against him. A soft sound escaped him as Josué deepened the kiss, just as slowly and deliberately. When Josué drew back at last, Simeon appeared utterly stunned, his lips wet and swollen, his eyes halfway closed.
Josué smiled to himself. There really was no doubt about it. By the time this campaign was over, Simeon would be his, chains or no.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s get back before it turns dark.”
For the remainder of their walk, Simeon remained quiet, although Josué caught Simeon watching him a few times with an uncertain expression on his face. Josué ignored it, and once they’d made their way back, spoke once more to his sergeant before they retired to Josué’s tent.
Everything was as it should be—Bibeau had spread out his furs and blankets and laid out a clean shirt for the morning. The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon, painting the mountains jutting up towards the sky all around them in brilliant hues of orange.
The camp was quiet. The men had all been told that an exhausting climb awaited them tomorrow, and most had made use of the early stop today to rest—helped along by the fact that there wasn’t much else to do, far from towns, inns and brothels. Lucky the man who’d found a comrade to share his bedroll on such a campaign and had no need to seek for entertainment elsewhere…
Josué’s gaze swept back towards Simeon with proprietary pride.
Simeon had remained quiet after the kiss, looking faintly worried. He was watching the sinking sun set the peaks on fire, but didn’t resist when Josué took hold of his hand and pulled him towards the tent’s entrance with a smile.
“It’s early,” Josué said, “but it will be a long day tomorrow.”
Josué pulled off his own clothes, noting the way Simeon couldn’t help but watch before he guiltily turned away from him again.
“I don’t think you have rest in mind,” Simeon said quietly, but nevertheless began to strip as well as soon as Josué had slipped beneath the blankets.
Josué watched with unabashed appreciation as Simeon disrobed, then lifted a corner of the blanket for him.
“You’ll sleep better afterward.” Josué wrapped an arm around him to pull him close as soon as Simeon joined him, then slowly allowed his hand to drift downward until he found Simeon’s cock. “This deserves to be taken care of. I won’t have it said that I pay more attention to my ponies’ wellbeing than to yours.”
“It was doing fine before you appeared,” Simeon forced out through gritted teeth, and Josué laughed in response.
“Was it?” He ran a fingertip in a slow caress around the sensitive head and felt Simeon’s cock react eagerly, like a dog pushing up into its master’s caress. “There. I don’t think it agrees.”
