Rain

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Rain fell in fat drops as the day dawned, falling steadily upon the British encampment and bringing with it a welcome drop in temperature. Inside one of the tents in the far end of the camp, two soldiers were perfectly content to relax and enjoy the respite from the oppressive heat. James Wilkins closed his eyes and pressed his face into the pillow, sighing quietly as he felt his bed partner stir. The brush of bare skin against his made him smile, and he pretended to be still asleep when a hand moved his dark curls aside.

“I know you’re awake, James,” William Tavington murmured, placing a kiss on his neck and running a hand down his back. Wilkins smiled again and turned his face towards the other man; the memories of what they’d done the previous evening made his blood rush and darkened his eyes and even though the mere recollection made him instantly hard, he was content to simply lay by his lover’s side. He obeyed when Tavington urged him onto his side, sleepily sighing his pleasure as the colonel took him in hand and stroked slowly.

He reached out to draw his fingertips over William’s beloved face then down to trace down his side, stopping to rub a thumb over the round, puckered scar where a colonial’s bullet had wounded him. Wilkins leaned forward to rub his lips over Tavington’s before sliding a hand between them to return the favor, and their tongues twined lazily as they gripped, stroked, and rubbed each other. Climax struck both of them more or less simultaneously and they lay in each other’s arms sleepily sated as a chill breath of air cooled their heated skin. “I should go,” Wilkins sighed, unwilling to move.

Tavington opened an eye to look at him. “If that’s what you want.”

Wilkins grinned and settled back into a more comfortable position. “Or I could just stay here for a while longer.”

They fell asleep to the sound of the rain.


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