(no subject)

[iniquiticity]

Just - for some definition of "just" - outside of old Damara were some rather tall mountains which Rhodin had tracked some conspirators to. It turned out that Ludvic was the most capable - he explaind that there had been a lot of tree climbing in his youth - and Rhodin the most excited about winter mountain tracking, and so they went. The mountains had infrastructure for hikers - there were pitons all over, and they hired a guide without too much effort. Up they went, in their new furs and boots, making nothing conversation.

Their guide had their tent and they had one for the two of them. There were not a lot of highly portable tents that were designed for two large, muscular men, they noticed. They had thought about carrying two tents, but that seemed like a lot of extra weight, and worse, set-up.

Even if the conspirators were as equipped as they, they left trash, tools and crunchy footsteps in the snow; it was a relatively easy track. Still, they pushed hard, and hiked by magic longer than their guide preferred.

This was the coldest night yet; Ludvic's whole body felt frozen and his blood was sluggish in his veins. They were desperately close - the fire they'd come across a few hours later was still warm to the touch. But Rhodin was confident that their prey had gone up an ice face and they agreed that was not going to happen tonight.

Rhodin had put up their little tent without talking. He was, obviously, exhausted and trying very hard not to shiver. He was squatted down and looking up at Ludvic in their magelight. "If we get up before dawn I bet we can get them," he said, "Come to bed."

Ludvic bent himself into the little tent. Rhodin was spreading their sleeping bags. He took Ludvic's pack - they had a routine - and then began to wiggle himself into his bag, and then paused. Ludvic blinked at him.

"You know," Rhodin said, consideringly. Even in the tent his breath was visible, "Body heat is an _extremely_ useful way to stay warm in such cold weather."

Ludvic didn't have much interest in such things, but he wasn't oblivious. And Rhodin _was_, after all, right.

"Is it," he offered, sitting down so he could take his boots off. His feet felt like two lumps of rock; he rubbed his toes in his wool socks, just trying to feel something.

"You could put your feet in between my feet and warm them up," Rhodin offered, "Put your hands between my arms and my body. Then we could put both our sleeping bags around us. That would be _very_ warm."

"Would your neck be warm?" he asked.

"Extremely," Rhodin promised, and then wiggled in his sleeping bag. Ludvic reduced another layer and felt all of his skin start to freeze in those moments.

There was honestly no way both of them could have fit in the bag _without_ being all wrapped up in one another. Their legs tangled; Rhodin's hairless body was smooth and strong and, yes, actually warm, against his. Rhodin's feet found his feet and rubbed against them as if to bring some more life into them. Rhodin wiggled around, grabbing his rough hands in his own armpits. It was even warmer than Ludvic had expected, and faintly humid, and he put his face into Rhodin's neck and breathed the smell of his sweat and furs and cologne, which was more pleasant than he would have thought. Rhodin's arms wrapped around him, and there was none of the expected claustrophobia. It was _warm_. His whole front was warm. He had not been this warm in four days.

"Sweet dreams, commander," Rhodin murmured into his hair. The exhaustion was unexpectedly sudden - as if now that he was warm his body realized sleep was the only option. He was awake, contemplating how wonderful it was to be warm, and then he was gone.

-----

He awoke and it was just beginning to be light. Only the tiniest bit of frozen, non-stale air had come into their bundled sleeping bags. Rhodin was wrapped around him - he was warm, soft skin painted over solid muscle. Rhodin was rubbing against him, the contact hot, and he was making little groans above Ludvic's head, Rhodin's arms tight around his head. Ludvic felt Rhodin's cock, hard, rubbing against his thigh. He did sometimes wake up hot in the morning, and that was something he could manage without bothering too much. Rhodin's body rubbing against him made his own erection throb.

He considered. There was no way he was getting out of their enclosed bubble of warm before Rhodin was awake. It seemed foolish to leave Rhodin to his daydreams while he was also aroused. Rhodin _had_ invited him directly into the sleeping bag. Rhodin had once, politely as possible, suggested his interest if there was any mutual interest. Well, then they hadn't been hauling up a mountain in freezing temperatures.

He flexed his thigh and Rhodin moaned above him. That was unexpectedly pleasant. He slid an arm around Rhodin to pull him close, and Rhodin said _Ludvic_ in a breathy gasp. If he could only adjust their bodies - he did not want to expose even a moment of their warm air to the elements - he needed the warmth of Rhodin's skin - he wiggled a bit, and Rhodin's cock rubbed against his, and _oh_, that was hot. Ludvic licked his hand, drew it down Rhodin's cock.

"Ludvic..?" Rhodin groaned, conscious this time.

"Is that alright?" he asked, with another stroke.

"More alright than anything in the world," Rhodin breathed, above him, and rolled his whole body, and it was the most magnificent contact against him.

It was --- Ludvic would not have used _unbearable_, the way heat sparked in his body. Strange, unfamiliar, yes. Uncomfortable, but not uncomfortable in a terrible way. Both uncomfortable and welcome. It reminded him very much of lifting more, running faster, swinging harder. His body burned, pushed limits he was always trying to find a way to move over. Rhodin's hand, hot, damp, found his, ten fingers wrapped around both of them, Rhodin rubbing against him.

Rhodin's breath was a sauna against the side of his face, loud. His heard thumped in his chest. He could feel the wind-up energy inside him. It was not like he was alone and it was a perfunctory necessity to get on with the day. It was more electric than that. He felt the gears of the clock straining inside of him, felt Rhodin twisting harder, animal grunts through his nose --

"That," Rhodin said, breathless, "is the sort of energy to climb an ice face and strike down enemies of the Emperor."

Abruptly Ludvic was alone, free-wheeling over a chasm, a strangled noise escaping from his chest. Rhodin was wiggling out of the sleeping bag and putting on his many layers.

Ludvic tilted his head up and stared, still panting, his body throbbing. Rhodin met his eyes and seemed uncharacteristically surprised. Rhodin stopped in the middle of putting on his second later. "Oh," he said, and then he contorted his face into a forced, casual smile, and there was a pause, "When we have a real bed. I will. I promise. It will be _so_ good. I'll make it _so_ good for you. Now we must push forward with all the energy we've gathered, and also not make a mess of ourselves and our sleeping bags."

Rhodin's erection was obvious against the line of his long underwear. He was putting on his next layer, which did very little to mask the silhouette.

Ludvic tried to make himself think clear thoughts, tried not to think about his own body, and the blast of freezing air as he exposed his face to the inside of the tent helped.

It was dark and cold and the throbbing pulse of his body _did_ make him forget about that. Rhodin pulled on his mask and his goggles and his gloves and, of course, did not look even slightly in disarray. Perhaps Rhodin was accustomed to this - perhaps Rhodin had always intended to - perhaps Rhodin only wanted him for --

He took a breath and put on his clothes and cleared his mind. They had to climb up and ice face and those who conspired against his Radiancy. That was what mattered. That Ludvic was filled with the most disconcerting sort of longing was secondary. That Ludvic's skin prickled in all sorts of strange ways didn't matter. Ludvic had to get out of the tent so they could break it down.

Their guide was still sleeping. Rhodin's goggles glistened in the rising sun. Ludvic made himself the still guard, mindless in his duty. He packed up the tent and slung it on his back and Rhodin was hurrying away in the dawn, his hands working towards his climbing gear. The sound of the pitons in the ice kept him focus. They climbed. Rhodin was (of course) right. The energy _did_ help.

The enemies were packing their gear, and when they saw them they dropped their gear and ran. Rhodin dropped his pack, too, and ran, and with an effort Rhodin hurled himself into one of them, staggering them to the ground. There was definitely something new about running at top speed, weighed down by equipment, sweating through your furs, chasing a man up a mountain. It _did_ help to having a half-smoldering ember left inside you. It _did_ make him realize that perhaps if they had finished it would have been worse.

The conspirators were more exhausted then they were, it was obvious; Ludvic had taken over the tackled one and Rhodin was bolting for the other man. They bound them with rope in the stunning, burning sunlight. They hauled their catch on their backs, binding them tightly, covering them while they slept. Ludvic did not have any pity for frostbitten fingers.

---


His Radiancy commended him when they returned; the Old Damaran guard was stunned by their competency. Ludvic was more relieved than he would admit to return the equatorial steam of Solaara, of the magically cooled palace hallways, his sandals. He was reading reports in his office two days later when Rhodin let himself in.

"Deputy Commander," he said, with a nod of welcome.

"Commander," Rhodin said, saluting sharply. His posture relaxed - not a work matter, then - and he sat in the chair in front of Ludvic's desk. "I, er. I think I may have surprised you on the mountain with my methods. I offer an apology." He bent his head and made a gesture of apology. Ludvic found it hard to remember which apology gestures were more significant than others, but wagered this one was severe.

Ludvic's legs tingled. His toes wiggled behind his desk where Rhodin had carressed them with his feet. He took his glasses off so he could see Rhodin in better focus.

"Yes," he said, "Is this a common method of yours?"

"Not common," Rhodin replied, "But not close to the first, and certainly not the last. I thought that you weren't... ah .. I had thought your enthusiasm would be for the warmth. I remember your response to my proposition."

It was both uncomfortable but sort of satisfying to see Rhodin contrite. Rhodin rarely misjudged anyone, and it was oddly amusing, to see that, out of all people, Rhodin had misjudged him. "I accept your apology," he said, at first, because Rhodin would care about that, in the way aristocrats did.

"If I had, ah --" Rhodin started again, and Rhodin _never_ stumbled over his words, "If you were reconsidering my proposition in light of recent events, well. I could not imagine a better use of an evening. Or afternoon. Or morning. Dawn, if you preferred?"

Ludvic found himself remembering Rhodin's breath hot against his face. He could feel that smooth, powerful skin under his fingers. "An evening might be best for our schedules," he said.

The light came into Rhodin's face and made his eyes gleam like emeralds. His regular smile turned bright with delight. "An evening! To the rota, to make such miracles happen!" He saluted, turned on his heel, and was gone.

-----

Ludvic had been there when his Radiancy awoke and still felt anxiety in his chest at the thought of meeting Rhodin in the bedroom. The evening was not that evening but the following one. He showered, shaved, studied himself in the mirror. They were not freezing in a tent. Rhodin could have anyone in the palace that he wanted. He chose Ludvic. Ludvic knew genuine delight in Rhodin's face. Rhodin did not fulfill out of obligation.

Rhodin came to his apartments wearing a shimmering green tunic and holding one of their sleeping bags. Ludvic looked puzzled at it.

"If you wanted to, ah, bring the moment ---" Rhodin's face turned artificial, hiding, "-- No! Of course not! Why would one wish to be freezing in a tent when we have this luxurious bed." And dropped the bag before walking over to Ludvic. "Would you lead?"

Ludvic stripped out of his clothes and got on his bed. Rhodin was looking at him in a way he'd never looked at Ludvic before. Ludvic had always expected it to be uncomfortable, but -- it wasn't, exactly, somehow. Many other people had looked at him in a much worse way. Rhodin, deliberately, stripped out of his clothes, then came over to him. "May I lay with you?" he asked.

"Yes," Ludvic said Rhodin felt just as strong now, and just as warm, and Ludvic put his face in Rhodin's neck and smelled his skin and cologne. Rhodin wrapped his arms around him - oh, he knew Rhodin's strength, for all that it served him, served Zunidh, but this was different. He had seen Rhodin run up a mountain and tackle a man in his arctic furs. Rhodin's rough hands stroked down his back with weapon-handling deftness.

"I deserted you in your moment of need on the mountain," Rhodin murmured, into his hair, "I must remedy it. Such a thing cannot remain between us. I know you accepted my apology but my honor is besmirched nonetheless. Permit me my repentance." Rhodin's hand wrapped around his side, over an old scar on his hip, tracing down his pelvis. Rhodin's hand was hot on his cock.

"I liked your body," he said. This sounded stupid almost before he said it.

Rhodin kissed the top of Ludvic's head. "Yes, of course," he said. Rhodin understood, of course, because it was his life's work to understand people. Rhodin had never let him flounder before. Rhodin had seen him early and understood him. Rhodin was his friend. The only person he had been friends with before Ludvic was Conju. Rhodin reconfigured himself, rubbed himself against Ludvic's thigh, let their bodies touch and spark. He took his own cock in his hand and let it brush against Ludvic's. Ludvic listened to the sound of his breathing, steady, deepening. He lifted a hand and ran it over Rhodin's shoulder. He was not as touchy as Rhodin, of course, and would not liked to be. There was, however, something wonderful about that smooth skin and all the strong feel under it.

"You can touch me however you want," Rhodin said, a breath, into his hair, "Any part of me, however hard or soft. I am a canvas for your art."

It was uncomfortable in it's unfamiliarity. It _did_ remind him of the mountain, in a way. It was not the mountain. There was no necessity to it, even pretended-by. It was all so intentional. He tried not to get locked up in that feeling. He just let himself concentrate on the heat and electricity of Rhodin's body rubbing together, of the way Rhodin's body responded to him, hard and hot. He was slow to rouse, ordinarily. Rhodin didn't seem to mind. Rhodin was uncommonly relaxed, stroking him, kissing his hair, nuzzling. Ludvic found the rhythm of his breathing hypnotic.

"I know that I'm not---" Ludvic began, and stopped, startled, when Rhodin shushed him, like he was child.

"You are the most magnificent soldier I have ever known," Rhodin said, and this time his voice was clear, confident, as self-assured as ever, "Your soul's devotion to your lord shines through you. The great goldenness of your aura would be blasphemousness were you not entirely worthy of it. Speak only glories of your honorable body."

It was not that he was not regularly commended by Rhodin. It was not that he did not know, of course, that he was an honorable soldier, dutiful. It was only that all of it combined, that Rhodin somehow connected it, that Rhodin could enuciate it so clearly while he rubbed his cock against Ludvic's, that Rhodin had seen his concern and headed him off with all his intensity, abrupt.

He laughed a breathless laugh into Rhodin's neck. Rhodin nuzzled him.

"Yes, sir," he said, softly, and then he kissed Rhodin's throat, and Rhodin groaned. Rhodin's throat hummed against his lips. He kissed again, and was rewarded with a longer groan this time. Rhodin's body moved with more intensity against him.

"There is no mountain to climb?" he asked, into Rhodin's throat, and when he opened his eyes he was drawn to the beauty of it he'd never seen before, the slight sheen of perspiration, the way his adam's apple shifted as he breathed, the golden cast of his skin.

He had meant it as a joke, but Rhodin growled, and that meant Ludvic heard the noise directly in front of him, felt it nearly in his own throat. He was surprised when Rhodin contorted himself to look him in the eye. Rhodin was ferocious. He looked like a predator. Ludvic had always known that about him, as much as Rhodin deflected. He had grown up in the woods and had known wolves and mountain lions and seen all of that inside Rhodin. "Never," Rhodin hissed, his wolves' eyes gleaming in the low light, jaw clenched, "I will never put the mountain between us. I will never put the mountain in front of you."

Ludvic realized, with the intensity matching that frozen mountain air, that he was being a fool. This was important to Rhodin. He was not just one of Rhodin's partners. Rhodin _meant_ it, all of it, was not just --- making good.

He took Rhodin's face in his hands and he kissed him. He did not know how to kiss Rhodin and it didn't matter. Rhodin's arms and legs curled around him, and it was not a trap. He was welcome here. There was something home about it. Both of their cocks were between their bodies. There was no one else he was going to climb up a mountain with. There was no one he would have lain with for heat; no one he would have followed up with to lay with otherwise. He rolled his body against the cage of Rhodin's stomach and tasted his moan, and Rhodin reached grabbed his hand, licked it, and brought both their hands between them, like they had been. This time without necessity. This time all for their indulgement in their bodies. Ludvic could not remember the last time he indulged his body.

|| As it had been in the beginning of their friendship, Rhodin did not care that he was unpolished. Rhodin took him by the hand - literally, in this case - and showed him. Rhodin taught him with moans and rolls of his hips and the little way he bit Ludvic's ear (an unexpected rainforest shock of lightening). He explained with his body. He taught Ludvic's body what to do and how to say what it meant. And when all the lessons were completed they thundered together to the end. As it always was: putting some new trap into action, or hauling their catch down a snowy mountain, or receiving some commendation resplendent in their formal military uniforms.

Ludvic lay tangled up in Rhodin's body, feeling its radianting heat, the slight slickness of it, the smell of sex and sweat. He had never had any interest in cigarettes but he could have inhaled the smell of Rhodin forever. He traced the lines of Rhodin's musculature under his skin.

"And so my honor is restored," Rhodin murmured into his hair. Rhodin was stroking the back of his neck in a lulling fashion. Ludvic did not laugh, this time. He kissed Rhodin's throat.

"A fine soldier," he murmured.

"All that I hope to be," Rhodin said, and settled, with wonderful but new ease, around him. The sun set behind the palace, mountainous in its own right.