Always
Author: wanderingsmith
Started date feb 13, 2017
Summary: "A steaming *bath*, mon
cher! Have you ever *seen* such a thing of
beauty??"
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and
nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As
it is thought, so let it be said; you make the
toys, I play with 'em..
AN: This was actually 90% written
last week, if not 2 weeks ago, now: no
relation to Waiting which just happened all of
a sudden last night. though I realise there
are similar feelings/lines
This was born from the thread that led here
anyway. there was a request for more fic. and
a stated preference for non-explicitPWP, lol,
so.. I think this qualifies
For the first time in Billy's memory,
neither the arbiter nor the competitors, nor even
the crowd, had so much as seemed annoyed at his
winning. Goody hadn't needed to say a word as he
smilingly walked the arena as an unquestioned
companion of the winner with his hat held out.
Billy even thought he'd heard a few cheers when
he'd made his last throw. Certainly he'd seen his
opponent recover from his surprise and give a
quick laugh before *shaking Billy's hand*!!
He'd still been tempted to leave town in a hurry
before the spell lifted, but Goody had actually
been in a good mood, even after the inherent
danger of the contest. Probably helped that not
having to introduce himself meant that no one was
reminding him of the war, now. Either way, Billy
was inclined to do anything in his power to keep
that relaxed smile on the lips of the man he
loved. And to get some full civilized meals in
front of him while he was likely to eat them.
The fellow of apparently Mexican descent running
the town's saloon, which either explained the
town's strange attitude or added to the
strangeness of it, accepted Billy's money for a
decent room, and even a bath, without a blink. And
Billy could smell something tasty being cooked
downstairs as they got undressed in the warm
bathing room, together behind the safely locked
door; a luxury he no more remembered than a win
without insults.
"A steaming *bath*, mon cher! Have you ever *seen*
such a thing of beauty??"
Billy smiled at the light-hearted crow, attention
on Goody taking off his shirt as Billy shook out
and dropped his vest to join his belt and jacket
on a chair. "Yes. I have." When Goody gave him a
surprised look, Billy strolled his eyes down from
the man's smooth shoulders, even as he leisurely
undid the clasp on his gloves, to a pale chest
scattered with wiry hair that thickened near the
high waist of the slacks he still wore. He wasn't
surprised when his view started shaking before
being covered by an awkward hand, Goody's easy
laugh ringing out, that too-rare truly happy smile
meeting Billy's eyes when he looked back up, for
all Goody's skin was reddening in the lantern
light.
"Knew there was a lying romantic hiding inside
that beautiful pragmatic hide of yours, Billy
Rocks!"
In the middle of taking his shirt off, Billy kept
his response at a snort. On the cloth clearing his
head, he just caught Goody giving him a wink
before he turned to gesture at the tub again, "And
this *soap*, Billy! A lovely," Billy chuckled as
Goody brought the white bar up to his nose for an
exaggerated sniff, "A lovely pine-scented soap, no
doubt made to turn to bubbles and soothe tender
skin that has seen *just* such cruel vagaries as
we have."
"Then get naked so you can enjoy the hot water."
He grinned as Goody pouted at him before starting
to work off his boots.
"Are you planning to stand watching all evening,
chéri?" Billy jerked his distracted eyes back up
to meet Goody's uncomfortable smirk, "Not that I
don't appreciate the view, you understand, but I
was quite looking forward to feeling your skin
slick against mine."
Billy rolled his eyes, but got back to undressing;
he'd been looking forward to the luxury of a bath,
himself.
Even more so when he heard a few splashes followed
with a blissful moan.
He got his revenge when he deliberately faced the
chair with his gear, leaving his back to the bath.
And took both pins out of his hair.
And chuckled to hear a much softer moan: little
more than a sigh and hum, matched by the almost
sleepy look of appreciation fixed on him when he
turned. He would never get enough of having Goody
desire him so simply.
He knew very well he was just as soft-hearted when
he stepped closer and took the dripping hand held
out to him, leaning down to bring the callused
palm to his lips in a more intimate version of the
supposedly 'courtly' gesture he'd seen Goody pull
on a few women, and many a giggling girl-child.
"Oh you *do* do that *very* well, mon cher," Billy
winked, proud of causing the breathy response,
"Now get your tempting ass into this tub." Billy's
surprised crack of laughter echoed in the room as
he pulled Goody forward and then slipped behind
him to take any chill of the tub onto himself.
Wrangling his hair to his sides and Goody to his
chest, and then leaning back with a sigh as the
heat soaked into his bones, faintly disgruntled at
the strange luxury of a *headrest* attached to the
tub's edge, but more interested in the water
rising to just under his shoulders with the two of
them sitting in it, knees bent to fit, but still
covered by the blessed water and the bubbles Goody
had somehow already got to appear on it.
"Though I would always choose your ass over
anything else in the world, you have to admit, mon
cher, that this is a little slice of heaven."
"Yes Goody," he stroked one hand, mostly idly,
over Goody's shoulder, shaping the muscles as he
smoothed down his arm, feeling the familiar ridges
of old scars slipping under his palm, "Heaven."
Supper would be available for hours yet: they
didn't need to hurry. As long as the water was
warm, they could lay there in soft comfort like
the spoiled gentry in Goody's stories. The heat
soaking into the aches of long days riding, short
nights sleeping on hard ground, and joints getting
old. And for all they were the same age, the abuse
Goody's body had taken in the war, and in the
years before Billy could care for him, had done
worse to his mate than Billy's years of hard
labour and surviving mostly off the land had done
him.
He understood Goody's glee at the heat. Wished,
visceral and sudden, that he could provide this
for Goody regularly, that he could give him an
easier life; give them both an easier life, after
the darkness they'd survived.
Goody sagging loosely against him drew him out of
his regrets and to this present time, when they
*did* have this luxury, when Goody could lounge
with hot water covering his shoulders and Billy
could hold him. Could stroke and feel nothing but
heat-softened flesh, without chill, without grit.
The usual tension in Goody's neck and shoulders
gone, arms melting under Billy's touch. When he
felt Goody's wet beard float over his hand, he
followed it up, barely applying any pressure to
tilt Goody's jaw up until he could lean in and
mouth soft touches on the field of scruff they
hadn't shaved off yet. It was softer from the
steam and he rubbed his own still-smooth cheek
against it, hearing Goody chuckle, sounding
half-asleep already, and utterly at ease.
Billy was tempted to make a comment about Goody's
extended silence, but he could feel such simple
pleasure from their closeness, and could feel
Goody letting himself float in it too. He kept the
touch on Goody's cheek, thumb stroking into
scratchy beard and soft lips, murmuring soft
endearments and feeling Goody's lips shape them
back at him. His other hand stroked up from
Goody's waist, over a familiar roadmap of scars
and bones, and of protective muscles from the bits
of gentle training Billy faintly remembered his
parents sharing, before they came to this land;
training he'd managed to sweet-talk Goody into
doing with him, most evenings. He complained and
chatted rather than follow a meditative silence,
but he'd learned the movements well enough, even
in his boots, and Billy had long since accepted
that Goody's voice brought him more ease than
supposedly soothing silence. And he'd noticed
Goody's sleep improve when they'd started: that
was worth the world.
Gliding up, the soap slicking his touch over
already soft skin, automatically curving toward
upper chest and.. Billy turned inward with an
apologetic hum when he felt Goody shiver at his
unthinking touch over a soft nipple. They could
tangle together later in their clean bed. Resting
in this warmth was a better use of resource. It
might be better if he could resist this stroking
at all, but Billy so rarely got to touch, even
now: it fed a need deep inside him to have this.
Hair too coarse to be softened by water guided his
hand down, nuzzling a playful kiss on Goody's lips
as he circled his belly button with his index.
Goody's ticklish chuckling rippled Billy's hand
down further, to the soft belly that swelled to
shape into his palm without help, his fingers
splaying out to feel more as Billy breathed deep
contentment, tempted to purr like the tame cats
that hung around horse-stalls and rubbed all over
his legs when he brushed their horses down as
Goody sweet-talked some other stable-boy into not
cheating Billy's horse out of food or care.
But then he felt Goody's back stiffen, and Billy
jerked his head up, frowning in worry, only to see
Goody's eyes open and too aware. Feel him pulling
away from Billy's touch by some infinitesimal
distance, and a trace of incomprehensible *shame*
twisting his lips, "Billy, I.."
He fought the need to cling to the man and force
him back as tight into Billy as he could be,
knowing, *knowing* he needed to understand what
was happening, first, "Goody. What-"
"I know I'm no longer-" Goody's eyes dropped to
his belly for only an instant before looking at
Billy's chest where he'd been resting so
comfortingly just instants ago, then away, over
past Billy's shoulder.
It took feeling Goody suck his stomach in, taking
away from Billy's hold, for him to take a guess at
just what had pulled him out of his peace. Billy
firmed his voice to call him back from the tension
growing stronger with every second, "Goody." When
those pale eyes reluctantly focused on him, he
softened his voice, "I remember the first time we
fucked," his hand slid to Goody's hip as he seemed
to tense even more, "You were still almost
starving," he felt the pain the memory still gave
him flinch over his face, "The drink had barely
kept you alive and you-" Billy lowered his face
into Goody's hair, drawing him back closer,
silently pleading him to let Billy back in again.
He didn't like to remember how those days had
felt.
He grunted in relief when Goody stopped drawing
away, stiffly turning his head to lay his cheek
against Billy's shoulder: half-hidden, but at
least touching him. He dared to slip his palm
back, waiting for Goody to tense, finally stroking
ever so slightly at the soft belly flesh that
meant Goody had enough peaceful moments now that
he actually ate enough. Was healthy now; could
rest, could eat. Mostly. But even with that proof,
it still took Billy good long moments to push back
the painful memories, even as Goody's hand came to
rest on his forearm and hesitantly stroked
reassurance, his body finally releasing its
tension with a sigh against Billy's shoulder.
Billy butted his way to press his lips to Goody's
ear once he felt he had himself under control
again, whispering painfully, "There were times I
was afraid I would have to watch you die from not
eating enough before you had enough of having me
causing you problems."
Goody tried to sit up, at that, his head rising
quickly, knocking Billy's jaw back with a
surprised grunt, wide stricken eyes meeting
Billy's, "Billy! I would *never*-"
Billy was shaking his head before he'd gotten two
words out, slipping his hand from Goody's jaw to
cover his mouth, "I know. I know now. I trust you;
believe you. Have for years." He leant forward,
leaning their foreheads together, "Believe *me*. I
will always love you as you are. Always stay at
your side."
Back to Fanfic
Back to The Canadian
Wanderer's homepage >