Comrades in Arms

Title: Comrades in Arms
Author: JadeHeart
Archived: If anyone would like it, please ask me first!
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: yaoi, some minor het
Spoilers/Timeline: touching on events through the first 9 DVDs
Pairing: Conrart/Josak
Summary: The bonds that developed so long ago were reforged anew on the battlefield. (Conrad/Josak)
Author’s Notes: For those who may not be familiar with the differences in spelling of names, Conrart is Conrad. I also found multiple ways that ‘Josak’ was spelt so I’ve just gone with this one.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creators of ‘Kyou Kara Maou’, nor am I making any profits from it.

-oOo-

Josak stretched his arms, feeling his shoulder joints popping from too many hours hunched over the maps he had been pouring over. A war was brewing for the Demon Kingdom; a war that the King did not want, anymore than Josak did. He had lived through one such war and had never wanted to see the likes again. However, it appeared that his prayers were not to be answered, no matter how hard he prayed.

He turned his head at a sound to see the water droplets striking against the pane of glass, dribbling downwards and streaking the window. No wonder it had seemed to be getting darker. He walked over and glanced out, assessing the low clouds. From the state of the weather it looked like it would be raining at least through the rest of the afternoon, which put paid to his idea of getting outside for a break.

He’d been cooped up indoors for the past few days, reviewing the field reports coming in from agents scattered across the neighbouring countries, trying to determine what his next move should be. He was responsible for gathering as much intelligence as he could to present to His Majesty about the current situation and so far it was not looking promising. No matter how hard he looked, he could not find any way to avoid the conflict that was facing them.

He scratched his chin, feeling the stubble against his finger tips as he gazed out at the empty courtyard below. He really felt like he needed to clear his head, forget the depressing reports, the dire warnings of impending war. He wasn’t made for all this paperwork, he needed something far more physical. Only then did he feel that he truly had some control over his life. That was why he had intended to find some respite in some sword practice, though who he would find for his sparring partner he didn’t know. He’d had no need to find partners; Conrart had generally taken that role.

He leant forward till his forehead rested against the cool glass, closing his eyes for a moment with a painful sigh. Conrart, he whispered in his mind. Where are you? Why did you leave?

He hastily wiped a hand over his faces, feeling his eyes prickling. Must be the dust in this room.

He returned his gaze to the window and the distant horizon. Far to the east lay Big Cimaron, their current self-proclaimed enemy. It was there that Conrart was also.

That had been a betrayal of momentous proportions and not just of His Majesty. Josak remembered all too clearly how his chest had tightened when he had first realised who it was who had entered the arena, who had been Big Cimaron’s third challenger. He had almost been overwhelmed by the intense feeling of relief, of knowing that his friend wasn’t dead as he had believed till then for there he was, hale and hearty. Then the feeling of dread that had crept through his soul when he had realised that Conrart was dressed in Big Cimaron’s uniform and just why he was there.

That had shaken him to the very core of his being, he had almost been unable to comprehend that it truly was his friend out there. That it truly was Conrart who had clearly betrayed them all and sided with their enemies.

Conrart; who meant more to Josak than his own life.

-oOo-


The feelings developed many years ago when they had first met.

He could remember that first time so clearly, the way their eyes had met, warm brown touching his bright blue. That and the calm smile that had tugged at his heart when he had no understanding of why.

That boy had held himself with such nobility for one so young although it would have been hard to miss the fact that he was aristocracy. That was evident in his bearing, the expensive clothing, the horse he rode. But it was still amazing how he could radiate such a sense of serenity in that turbulent time as the world had seemed to turn against so many of them, as his father had led that rag-tag group of refugees to freedom.

He didn’t know why the then Lord Wellard had called out to him, nor why it was that he had followed. He’d had no reason to trust that invitation, not after all he’d been through in his short life and certainly not from one of such high birth What had the nobility ever done for him? Apart from leaving him to die, that is.

Yet that deep voice had held no deceit when it had asked him if he wished to join them. The man had had a kindly face and certainly hadn’t appeared threatening, but it was the boy by his side who had convinced him. That steady clear gaze had looked at him with complete certainty in his own self, and with complete certainty that Josak would follow.

And follow he did; joining the caravan of carts and walkers but he was never like the others even though there was no reason why the older Lord Wellard should treat him any differently. He was nothing more than another bastard orphan; nothing special, just one of many. There were plenty of other children in the convoy, other orphans that were alone and fending for themselves. So how was it that he was the one who found himself riding behind the young lord, arms clasped around a slim waist? Why had he been chosen for that place of honour? Perhaps he was just the closest in age to the young Master, perhaps that was all there was to it.

He’d been afraid at first for he had never been on a horse and the height from the ground had been frightening to say the least. But the young Lord, sensing his fear, had turned his head, smiling gently and not in the least condescending, saying, “It’s all right. Just hold on to me tightly. I promise I won’t let any harm befall you.”

When he had turned back Josak felt a warm hand rest over his clasped ones and that had eased his mind, filling him with a sense of calm. It was from that moment that he trusted Conrart with his very life, and that had never changed. From that point onwards, they remained at each other’s side, growing up together. When he thought about it, it was truly strange how it had happened. He hadn’t actually been requested to remain with the young Lord, he had just remained on the back of Conrart’s horse so where he went so did Josak.

When they had at last left the shores of Big Cimaron, crowded onto a ship he had shared a cabin with the Lord and his son; Conrart in a bed beside his father, Josak bedded down in a pile of blankets and quilts on the floor beside him. It wasn’t derogatory for him to be sleeping on the floor. Lord Wellard had booked as many cabins as were available and all of them housed a number of refugees, more than there were beds. So the Lord and his son also shared, although Josak was their only addition.

As he burrowed in the bedding provided it had felt like he’d been sleeping in the lap of luxury. For a child who had slept on nothing but dirt and rocks with little more than a threadbare scrap of blanket for warmth, this was something he had never even dreamed of. This extravagance was more than he could have ever imagined even a scant few days ago.

When they had arrived in the Demon Kingdom, Josak continued to follow Conrart, by this time neither even thinking they should separate. It seemed as natural as breathing for them to be side by side, and where one was the other was never far away. And so that is how he remained with the Wellard family.

He remembered those early days as they were growing up, days learning all manner of new things with Conrart. Suddenly the world was opening up to him, showing him wonders that he never knew existed. Everything was new and exciting and completely fascinating. And the best was that he could share it with his friend.

However, there were still some things that he couldn’t share with Conrart. There still existed a strong class structure, a division between aristocracy and commoner, be it demon or human. Conrart had obligations that his birthright had placed on him and Josak had no part in that. He could be Conrart’s friend, but he could never he his equal although Conrart made certain to reassure him in those early years that this division mattered not to him and he had never once made Josak doubt his sincerity.

Still, Conrart had a duty to fulfil his role as the next Lord Wellard and with that came the requirement for further training and studies and to those Josak had to let him go alone. He would watch silently as Conrart was called away to those lessons, seeing him give a deep sigh although he never argued. Then he would smile crookedly at Josak with a small twinkle in his eye and softly say, “I’ll meet you here after,” and then would turn and walk away to study etiquette, court manners and other things that were a mystery to him.

Thus, during those times, Josak was left to his own devices with no duties to complete in Conrart’s absence and so he began to seek out other diversions. He had a great deal of curiousity and at first he simply wandered through the castle and surrounding town, watching the craftsmen at their trades.

Gradually his interest would be piqued and he began to desire to try his hand at learning more. He had no aspirations to achieve anything in particular, nor did he have any burning need to follow a particular career, he simply moved from one trade to another when he wished to. In this way he found that his days were filled, even when Conrart was not by his side.

It also made him feel very good about himself when at the end of a day he would return to the castle to meet Conrart who would listening attentively as he would animatedly speak of the latest task he had learnt, always encouraging him to continue to better himself in any way he wished to. He truly felt that he had something to offer his friend who expressed such interest in what he was doing also and this sharing of knowledge seemed to bring them even closer together. No longer did Josak feel that he was an ignorant fool.

He learnt a great deal during those years; apprenticing to the blacksmith, the swordsmith, the horsemaster, and any other master who was willing to teach him their trade. He found that he was a quick learner and his enthusiasm made up for any knowledge that he lacked, and he discovered that he would rather learn a bit of everything than just devote all his time to one. He also found that the physical exercise also suited him, as did spending as much time outdoors as possible. Having grown up in the harsh countryside where he had, prey to all the elements, being enclosed by four walls all the time made him feel a touch claustrophobic so it was always a relief to escape to the open air once more.

However Conrart ensured that his formal education did not suffer either although Josak was busy elsewhere. He always invited Josak to join him for his regular studies, helping him with his letters as he learnt to read and write, and his calculations which he struggled with in particular. His friend was exceedingly patient, not seeming to mind when he lost his patience with his own slow progress. He would merely smile calmly until Josak’s tantrum was done before picking up the thrown book, carefully brushing it down and turning the pages to the current lesson, and placing it before his ashamed face.

“Let’s begin again, shall we?” he would say calmly and Josak would bend his head to return to the start, biting his lip in concentration and vowing to be more worthy of his friend’s faith.

He had much cause to thank Conrart for that patience and time later in life. By his side he learnt about the history of the world, the geography of other countries, their political situation, their economy. He learnt literacy and numeracy, and even such abstract things as philosophy. He wasn’t stupid; he’d just never had the opportunity to learn any of this previously and probably would never have had if his circumstances hadn’t changed so dramatically.

Perhaps that is what Conrart had seen in him from the start. Although Josak would never be nobility and so would never be able to truly be Conrart’s equal socially, that didn’t matter. For a commoner, he was probably better educated than many other nobles around their world which made his scope of abilities that much more interesting.

Still he would always prefer the physical labour to bookwork, and as much as he enjoyed his studies with Conrart he would rather spend that time with his friend outside. His greatest advantage due to his favoured status with the Wellard family was that was able to learn the sword with Conrart. The two of them practiced constantly together and the swordmaster was happy enough to have a student close to the young Lord’s age as a sparring partner and so Josak was tutored in exactly the same way as Conrart.

As they grew older the sparring matches became more competitions, each trying to best the other. He was a little stronger than Conrart due to his excessive outdoor activities and work, but Conrart was lighter on his feet, his slim build making him more agile and quick. Due to that, Conrart was the slightly better swordsman, but the advantage that each held over the other was just a small degree, which meant that when they sparred the victory could go to either of them, it all depended on the fates at the time.

However, this idyllic existence could not continue forever.

When the troubles had begun in the Demon Kingdom with the Great War he’d been appalled. He’d fled the curse of his mixed heritage once and now it was happening again. People he had thought he could trust, had known for so long growing up, now turned a suspicious eye upon him. It had angered him - only because it had hurt him so much. His refuge had now turned against him; once more his home was lost to him.

And so he had been sent off to war as every able-bodied fighter was, despite their heritage. Blood didn’t matter when it flowed from wounds; it stained the ground the same way no matter from whom it spilt. Heritage didn’t matter when fighting bodies were needed.

He wasn’t the only one. There were many like him, some he had even known as survivors from his home, grown up to be men now. And Conrart was just like them. His nobility did not protect him from the accusations and suspicions, his years of dedicated service and unswerving loyalty to the Crown meant nothing in the face of the fear of defeat.

So Conrart had done the only thing he could. He volunteered to go to the front lines, the worst place, to prove his loyalty to his adopted land, and Josak followed. He learnt where his friend was based and so ensured that he was transferred there also. It wasn’t that hard to do; his mixed blood helped him achieve that easily enough.

From the time war broke out he had been separated from Conrart, their differing status forcing them apart. He was nothing more than a foot soldier, sent from place to place, from battle to battle, always waiting to see if he would survive to see another day, hoping against hope that one day he would be able to be united with his friend once more.

Before he had left, before he had been literally banished from returning to the Capital completely, he had seen some changes in Conrart. He had seen the looks that Conrart had given Susanna Julia von Wincott, that beautiful lady with a soul as pure as fallen snow. He could understand why Conrart loved her but he never understood why he didn’t tell her of his feelings. Conrart was no virgin; Josak should know since he had been there when Conrart had been initiated into the art of loving.

Josask could still smile, even now, at that memory.

He’d already experienced the pleasures of womanly flesh from an early age. Being a commoner and working at hard labour had made him mature early on, his physique more manly-looking than boys his own age in the nobility. His tall stature and well muscled body began to attract female attention quickly and many times from women more advance in years than himself as they mistook him for older.

His first ever tumble had been in the soft grass on a sunlit meadow beneath a blue sky with a sweet faced milkmaid only a few years older than himself. He was not innocent to the act of sex; you couldn’t grow up around tending farm animals without seeing it all and understanding fully just what was happening.

However the reality of the act was far more pleasurable than he could have guessed. The bull in the field had never behaved like it was a divine act, but Josak found that he gladly savoured and wallowed in the pleasure coursing though his veins as he clasped the soft warm flesh to him, feeling it yielding to his gentle demands, opening for him and then finally enclosing around him, drawing him higher and higher towards a beauty of mind and body that he never knew could exist.

After that he experienced this same feeling many times, although none had truly compared to the first when everything was new and unknown and so much more desired and intense. Still he enjoyed each encounter and as he grew older his bed partners became wealthy women, many of them married, bored with their present lives and partners.

Josak didn’t mind being used in that way. He treated them well and they returned in kind; it was simply understood that there was nothing more. And as any good friend would do, he wanted his best friend to experience this pleasure he had discovered as well.

He knew that Conrart at that time was still a virgin. His standing as a noble prevented any indiscreet tumblings and he was more closely watched, his time accounted for almost every moment. That didn’t mean that women did not notice him or vice versa. His tall, slim good looks and gallant personality drew women around him easily, his youth an added drawcard. Unfortunately Conrart’s own sense of honour prevented him from randomly besmirching any woman’s honour.

But Josak was determined that his friend be initiated into this arena as soon as possible so one night he got Conrart drunk just enough to be malleable and they staggered together to a well-to-do brothel, not one for high class nobles where Conrart was likely to be noticed but one more frequented by wealthy merchants.

Some time ago he had become friendly with some of the girls there so he knew they were well looked after and disease free. Personally, he had never paid for sex but he wasn’t averse to associating with such girls. The two he had got along best with were considered very experienced and it had been in their company that he had mused about how to help Conrart.

Surprisingly it was the girls who had come up with the rest of the plan, beyond his simplistic view of wanting to get his best friend laid. The two of them knew that he had no need to pay for company but had still been eager to bed him all the same, even for free as they liked him. This offer seemed to be too good to pass up, especially when he decided it would be the perfect way to get Conrart into such an establishment. When he had pointed Conrart out to them they had been even more eager to participate in the plan he was hatching, not that he blamed them. That only left him to arrange things for the night to go just as he had planned.

Conrart had tried to back out when he had realised where Josak was taking him but he was having none of it, forcibly dragging his fiend inside, hushing him to silence so as not to draw attention to themselves. The two girls had quickly whisked them away to private quarters before any other patrons could see them, disappearing up the stairs and out of sight.

-oOo-

Conrart pulled the curtain across the window, blocking out the bright sunlight. The dimness made it easier on his tired eyes. He had been up till the early hours of the morning, going over maps and strategies handed to him. It had left him feeling exhausted and wrung out by the time he had sought his bed and despite sleeping till almost mid-morning when he had awoken he felt as unrested as when he had first laid his head down.

He sighed, closing his eyes wearily for a moment. How had he come to this state? How had he gone so wrong? His hand rose and clenched the material of his uniform over his heart. Why did it always seem to pain him so?

He turned and sat in his chair, staring unseeing at the papers before him. He should keep on with it, there was much to be done, much to organise before launching the attack on the Demon Kingdom.

He tried to concentrate but couldn’t focus his mind. Perhaps he still needed some sleep? Perhaps he needed something else to truly tire him out? Even sword practice didn’t seem to weary him enough to rest easily, probably because there seemed to be none who could truly match him, let alone best him. How he missed the sparring matches he had once had with Josak.

An image of the orange-haired man rose before him, with his eyes of startling blue and broad smile. Conrart felt his own lips twitch in a smile also. Just thinking about Josak made him feel better in that way. They had been at each other’s side for so long, most of their lives, and he had never thought that would change. From the moment he had first met that dirty child with a defiant air he had never thought once that he would be gone from his side. How could they have survived all they had, to not be together? It made no sense.

But then, nothing made sense any more in his life.

He rubbed his eyes feeling weighed down by the events that were spinning rapidly out of control around him. How he wished that Josak were with him. He needed that steadying presence by his side, that cheerfulness in the face of terrible adversity, his friend’s keen wit and ability to tell him truthfully when his was acting foolishly. Josak was in many ways like another part of himself, as though between them both they made a better man.

He suddenly remembered a time when they were young. They had always tried to share everything, at least what could be shared. Josak had wanted to do just that this time; wanting to share with Conrart the pleasures he had found to be had with a woman.

Conrart was not a complete novice in this area. He had learnt how to pleasure himself and had certainly fantasised about one lady or another who had caught his eye, but he could not bring himself to do much more. The most had been the occasional casual touch to a breast as a willing lady fondled him through his trousers but this was no more than a tease and he would be forced to either calm his thoughts after the encounter or seek privacy in his room to finish the task.

At that time, he found himself unable to effectively form any counter arguments against Josak dragging him into what was only too clearly a brothel.

He had found it difficult to relax at first, uncomfortable to be in such a place and never dreaming that he would one day be here himself. However, as he had watched Josak kiss and fondle the girl on his lap, he had felt himself becoming exited. He was after all a red-blooded male like any other with a sexual drive to match and this display was more than he had witnessed before. As he continued to watch the knowledge that he would be able to reach that peak of pleasure without using his own hand was becoming an intoxicating thought.

He watched as Josak slid the dress from the creamy shoulders of the girl, dropping kisses to the flesh, moving lower and letting the girl lean back, supporting her until his lips could latch around the upright nipple jutting from the firm breast. The girl let out a high cry that sent a shiver running up his spine, his erection hardening further.

As he watched his best friend suckle like a greedy child whilst the girl moaned, her fingers gripping the orange hair tightly, his own pants tightened unbearably, so when soft hands cupped his face, turning it aside so moist lips could touch his, his final resistance melted away and he refused no longer.

The rest of the night passed by in a slow, sensual and pleasurable dream; naked bodies, hands and legs entwined, tongues trailing over flesh, skin gleaming, muscles rippling. Conrart remembered the feel of the woman, remembered reaching his pinnacle hearing Josak do the same almost at the same time, and then languidly lying there as the girls changed places.

He allowed the second to bathe him, cool water sliding over heated flesh, wiping away the sweat. The soft touches began to arouse him once more as her flesh brushed against his. His eyes devoured her form, hungrily watching her breasts sway above him, the feel of her thighs tightening as she straddled him. He reached for her, running his hands over her body, exploring, touching, squeezing, watching as she responded, feeling his desire mount further.

He rolled her over, lips seeking hers in a breath-stealing kiss, hands roaming over soft flesh, seeking downwards to that moist warmth nestled between her parted legs. He slipped his hand over that area, feeling her push against his touch, heard her moan and felt the flood of moisture against his palm.

Josak, he suddenly thought. That is Josak’s release I can feel.

He rubbed his fingers together, coating them with the sticky fluid. The thought of touching a part of his friend so intimately made his own erection drip as excitement rushed through it, squeezing his chest.

He pushed himself to his elbows, positioning himself and thrust forward, feeling that warmth enclose around him. As he thrust he could feel the fluid sliding over him, Josak wrapping around him. The thought made him thrust faster, grunting.

“Conrart,” he heard softly and turned his head to see Josak on the bed beside him, mirroring his position. He watched as Josak’s hips pistoned forward, pushing himself deeper into the woman below him, seeing the rippling of his buttocks as they tightened.

However as he continued to push forward, Josak kept his eyes locked on Conrart’s who felt himself matching his movements, thrust for thrust. Josak was smiling, hair plastered against his forehead with sweat, eyes bright.

“Conrart,” he said again breathlessly. “I….can feel you…..ugh!” His eyes closed for a moment as his movement sped up.

Conrart’s heart raced at Josak’s words knowing that he meant he could feel Conrart’s semen still spilled within the girl beneath him. That thought excited him, knowing that he was all around Josak, touching him.

“And I....” he gasped out seeing Josak’s eyes snap open and fix on him. “you.” he managed to finish and began to thrust faster.

Josak moaned deeply with his words and his movements increased as well, the two of them in time with each other still.

Conrart saw Josak’s eyes squeeze shut for that moment and then fix on him once more, his smile almost like a feral grin. His breathing was ragged, harsh in the silence, the gasps and cries from the two girls fading into the night they were so focussed on each other.

“Conrart,” Josak rasped out between almost gritted teeth.

Conrart felt the pressure building within him, drawing up. He knew that feeling, it wasn’t uncommon or unknown but this time there was an intensity that he had not experienced before. He could not halt this flow, his breathing harsh and mixing with the sound of Josak’s. The sense of double rhythm made him feel that Josak was actually inside him, or he in Josak, that they were making love as one, not two separate people.

“Ah,…Conrart!” Josak called out again, his voice tense.

Conrart saw his friend’s head fall back, long orange hair rippling down his shoulders yet his eyes were open and watching him.

“Josak,” he replied almost in a whisper yet no less intense.

The pressure built, built and burst, even as Josak moaned and then cried out, calling out his name as he did the same, their voices blending as their bodies released their climax together. As they emptied their seed, their bodies jerking and shuddering, gasping, their eyes remained fixed on each other and then almost as one they slumped forward, collapsing over the women beneath them, catching their breath before carefully rolling to one side.

Their bed partners snuggled into their sides contentedly. As one they turned their heads and once more their eyes met and Josak smiled.

“That....was incredible!” he half whispered

“Yes,” Conrart replied, his simple answer belying his feelings.

“We should always be one,” Josak said.

“Yes,” Conrart responded softly.

That had seemed like a promise between them, a promise that would bind them for the rest of their lives. It hadn’t been made or said on a whim on his part, or because he was caught up in the moment. He had truly meant it with all his heart.

-oOo-


Josak turned from the window and walked back to the table. He rested his hands on the edge, leaning forward to gaze at the map stretched before him. His eyes were drawn to a particular marker; small and insignificant it marked a place that he knew only too well. He remembered that place, that battle, who could forget it? It was forever etched into his mind.

He gazed down at that one spot on the map, his eyes seeing not the chart but rocks and ravines, men and horses, blood and steel; the Luttenberg Line.

There were few survivors from that battlefield. To go to the Luttenberg Line had been suicide, or was it mass murder? Depends on how you view it.

The men who were there were all volunteers, almost every one of mixed blood; the ostracized, the lepers of the Demon Kingdom, sent there to die and thus redeem themselves for their tainted heritage. Nothing would appease the Demon Kingdom except for them to wash their sins away in blood.

Josak had stayed by Conrart’s side even there, determined to be in that place at the end as he had been at the beginning. When the world was falling apart and drowning in blood, there was no other place he wanted to be.

They had been separated for a moment in the battle. Not surprising as the knights and nobility were mounted as was Conrart whilst he was forced to remain on foot, but he had fought his way to where he had last seen Conrart in time to see him fall.

He had dashed forward, ignoring his own wounds, rushing to the side of his fallen Captain. His heart had beat hard with relief as he had realised he still lived for he had feared the worst but he could feel the faint breath against his cheek as he leant over him.

Through the smoke, dust and flickering flames he had dragged Conrart from the battlefield, stumbling over corpses piled on top of each other, around reeking charred remains of horses and men, tripping over discarded weapons. He hauled his Captain up the steep rocky embankment, clinging to the unconscious form, refusing to let go no matter how his own strained muscles screamed at him to do so.

Finally he had reached the top and looked down on the carnage. It was a sight directly from hell, anyone’s hell, whether human or demon kind. There was nothing left in that razed area of land. Turning his back on the sight he hoisted Conrart over his shoulder and began to walk away. His first priority was to get his Captain medical attention. After that? Who knew.

He had been walking for some time when Conrart had gained consciousness. He’d been unable to do much except stumble along beside Josak as they both continued on, seeking safety of any sort, barely speaking to each other. What they had just been through, the horror they had just witnessed, was too raw in their minds and there were no words to speak of such. So they remained in silence instead.

Josak then felt the weight over his shoulders suddenly increase.

“Captain!” he cried as Conrart collapsed, sliding from his grip to the ground. “Captain!”

He frantically knelt by the fallen man’s side searching for signs of life. No breath touched his cheek, the skin looking pale and cold under his fingers. No, he would not lose him now. They hadn’t survived the horror of the Luttenberg Line to die now!

“Conrart!” He leant down and pressed his mouth over Conrart’s, his lips moulding to those he pushed against. He breathed out, sensing the chest rise within the armour. He raised his head again, sucking air in and then leant to repeat the action, sending his life breath into the body under his hands. He continued to do this, breathing deeply each time.

He felt his lips become dry and licked them, his tongue touching Conrart’s also. He tried not to think of this as a parody of a kiss as he continued to breathe, praying silently. He was close to despair but he refused to give up although he was becoming light-headed now and didn’t know how much longer he could go on. Still, he didn’t stop.

Suddenly a gust of warm air filled his own lungs, mixing with his and he felt the touch of the tip of a tongue slide almost sensuously across his lips lightly. He should have broken the contact then at that first sign of life, but the warmth and touch sent fires racing through his veins as he felt the pulse point beat more strongly against his hand resting on Conrart’s neck.

Almost against his will he held this position, his lips still pressed against Conrart’s, both breathing into each other. His own tongue ventured out to lick across the length of Conrart’s before sliding inside deeper. At Conrart’s soft moan he did jerk away this time, so hard that he lost his balance to land on his butt. He stared a the prone figure before him, his breathing ragged and a little rapid. What the hell had he been doing? What had he been thinking?!

Conrart remained motionless although now Josak could see his chest rising and falling, colour returning to his face though he still remained far too pale. He had lost a great deal of blood and it was still Josak’s job to get him to safety. He threw off his confusion and went back to Conrart’s side, reaching out and gently touched the still face, fingertips lightly stroking the slightly stubbled cheek.

“Don’t you die on me now,” he said softly. “Come on, Captain.” He hauled Conrart to his feet, draping him over his back so he could half carry, half drag the unconscious man. “Let’s get you fixed up and back on your feet.” and he set off.

They had finally reached one of the Demon Kingdom’s camps housing a medical tent. Conrart remained unconscious, his wounds severe and very close to mortal. The healers had done what they could before sending him back to the Capital with Josak accompanying him for he would not leave whilst his Captain remained in this state, hovering between life and death.

When Conrart had finally opened his eyes he had been filled with relief, almost overcome with the emotions he was feeling in knowing that his friend would survive. However, his relief and joy were short-lived for it was not long after Conrart’s awakening when another blow had been dealt. He was informed of Susanna Julia von Wincott’s death.

He had watched as Conrart’s hand had reached automatically for the blue pendant hanging around his neck, clutching it tightly and then he began to understand a little more. He’d wondered about that pendant from the moment he had first glimpsed it hanging around Conrart’s neck. It was hard to miss, although Conrart generally kept it carefully hidden from view most times, however Josak had still seen it more than once whilst they were fighting on the lines. It was all the more noticeable since Conrart wasn’t one to normally wear random accessories nor had he ever been one for the trappings of wealth and nobility.

So for Conrart to wear this necklace had been very much a surprise. He had seen his Captain look upon it a few times before the final battle and guessed it must have been given to him by someone special. Upon Conrart’s reaction to Julia’s death it hadn’t taken him but a moment to surmise that it had probably been giving to him by that lovely lady. She was the only woman that he had seen Conrart truly smitten with.

Now he wondered if her giving of the pendant to Conrart before he left the Capital had meant that she had had feelings for him also, yet he hadn’t seen or heard of any indication that she was unhappy with her engagement. Of course, that uncertainty of where her heart truly lay was what then caused the intense animosity between her fiancée, Adalbert von Grantz, and Conrart from that moment on.

But now, as he saw the unshed tears in Conrart’s eyes although his face betrayed nothing more, his hand clasped tightly around the pendent, Josak’s heart broke. He almost hated Julia then; hated her for making Conrart love her so much when she was not free to return his feelings, hated her for dieing and causing Conrart such pain.

He knew he could do nothing for his Captain in this. There was nothing he could do to remove that pain he was feeling so he was forced to do the only thing he could, which was leaving him to mourn in peace. As he turned to the door, glancing one last time to where Conrart was sitting up in bed, bandages wound round portions of his body, all he could think of to say, to try and find someway to express his feelings, was the admonishment to not die, before closing the door quietly behind him.

He had stood there in the corridor, back leaning against the rough wood of the closed door, listening but there was only silence in the room he had just left. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the stab through his heart again. He fought against the desire to re-enter the room and hold his hurting friend tightly, to try and do something, anything, to take away the pain he could see he was in. Instead, he forced himself to walk away and leave him.


He returned later that evening to Conrart’s room, sleep having eluded him that night. He had silently walked the dimly lit corridors, meeting no-one. Most of the hospital personnel were asleep; the staff exhausted from their constant efforts to heal, the patients recovering from wounds, many of them serious, so sleep was a merciful blessing for them.

He opened the door softly, looking inside and seeing all was still, before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He walked across to the bed, looking down to find Conrart seeming asleep, eyes closed and sheet pushed from his body. Josak could see the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, a sure sign of a fever which concerned him this early after his recovery.

He leant over him, checking to see if Conrart was still breathing easily, reaching a hand out to touch the forehead. His action halted when his Captain’s eyes snapped open. He stared up at Josak in silence, both of them frozen in place.

Josak tried to smile. “You’re going to get cold,” he said, trying to make light of it.

He began to withdraw his hand when Conrart suddenly reached up and grabbed it. Slowly, still maintaining eye contact, he drew Josak’s hand closer till it rested on his bare chest.

Josak could feel the heat generating from Conrart’s body, a matching heat building in his own but one that was created from the touch of Conrart’s flesh.

Conrart slowly moved Josak’s hand outwards, letting it slide against his skin until he felt a small bump as his palm rubbed over Conrart’s left nipple. He bit back on a gasp that almost escaped his lips although he couldn’t prevent the slight clenching of his fingers as they ached to touch that nub.

They remained like that for a moment longer, still neither of them saying anything. Conrart then reached up with his other hand, sliding it around Josak’s neck. He could feel his hair tangling in the fingers and he couldn’t suppress the shudder that shook him at that contact.

What was Conrart doing?, he thought frantically, too many things beginning to overload his senses sending mixed messages through his body and he was feeling his control begin to slip away.

Taking a firm grip, the strength in his hand reminding Josak of just how strong he was, Conrart suddenly half sat up, pressing his lips firmly against his in what could only be called a kiss.

The suddenness caught Josak completely by surprise and his lips parted slightly. Conrart took advantage of this and his tongue slipped inside Josak’s mouth, delving deeply to wrap around his tongue and draw it inwards, before withdrawing to slide itself sensuously across Josak’s lips, moistening them.

He drew back slightly, breaking the kiss though his hand remained firmly gripping Josak’s neck. He looked Josak in the eye, his brown ones seeming so deep that Josak thought they would swallow his very soul.

Suddenly Josak was aware of other things about this tableau. How his hand resting on Conrart’s chest had cupped the pectoral muscle, index finger and thumb clasping the nipple and had drawn it to an upright hardness. His other hand rested on Conrart’s shoulder, but instead of pushing him away it was curled over the top, drawing him closer.

Conrart began to lean forward again and as his lips brushed Josak’s, he jerked his head back before the kiss could be completed but Conrart’s grip on his neck and waist prevented him from fleeing further.

“What are you doing?” he said. “Snap out of it.”

Perhaps that is all this was; Conrart was caught up in a fevered dream and was mistaking Josak for someone else. Yes, that must be it.

“Stop fighting it,” Conrart said evenly. He pulled Josak forward again.

“Conrart!” Josak cried out, wanting to break his friend out of whatever dream he was having. “Wake up!”

“I am awake,” Conrart said and with a jerk unbalanced Josak so he began to fall forward.

Josak tried to save himself but all he could do was prevent himself from crushing Conrart completely and hurting him further. Thus it was that he found himself kneeling on either side of Conrart’s body, hips pressed together, arms on either side of him. Conrart now had both arms securely fastened around Josak’s back.

“Conrart,” he half pleaded, not knowing what he should do. This position he found himself in had automatically given him an erection and he was embarrassed beyond belief.

“Shut up,” Conrart said simply and moved his arms to circle Josak’s neck and forced his head down and into another deep kiss.

The kiss was fierce this time, nothing gentle about it, but it seemed to sap Josak’s strength so his body slowly descended to rest lightly over Conrart’s. He moaned as Conrart played with him, hands beginning to caress the back of his neck, his face, one sliding down his shirt.

He felt a tugging at the laces at the front and tried to sit upright, struggling, and finally managed to do so. Conrart followed him, sitting up also. He reached out and grabbed at Conrart’s hands holding them at the wrists.

He looked his friend in the eye and spoke. “Conrart, you’ve got to stop this. You don’t know what you are doing.”

“Don’t patronise me,” Conrart said. “I know precisely what I am doing.”

“You obviously don’t!” Josak said. “It’s me, remember? I’m a man!”

“I know,” Conrart said and twisted his wrists breaking Josak’s hold and reached out and grasped his shirt in fistfuls, pulling him closer so they were eye to eye, nose to nose. Conrart’s eyes seemed to be blazing with an inner fire, or perhaps it was just the fever burning inside.

“I know exactly what you are, Josak,” he said in a low voice that sent shivers down Josak’s spine. “I’ve seen every portion of you; body, mind and soul. You have no secrets, you are all mine, just as you have always been. So don’t try and fight me now.”

He suddenly tore Josak’s shirt apart, laces parting with a sharp snap and material separating under the force. Josak now found himself bare-chested bar for the tattered remains, but Conrart gave him no moment to think or respond in any way to defend himself as his head dropped forward and Josak felt warm lips fasten around one nipple.

His head fell back as he groaned deeply, unable to hold it back this time, his whole body pushing forward. His hands rose to clasp Conrart’s head, fingers threading through soft hair, pushing that talented mouth closer to his burning skin. Conrart continued to pleasure him, bringing that nipple to firmness before transferring his attention to the other whilst Josak’s hands began to slide up and down his naked spine, catching a little as they trailed over the bandages swathing Conrart’s body.

Conrart’s hands were no less busy, one sliding around his waist to rest at the small of his back to draw him closer to the eager mouth suckling, the other playing with the unattended nipple.

He moaned again, fires banking in his groin. He suddenly realised, the thought flashing through his mind. This was Conrart; his captain, his lord, his friend. What was he doing?

“No…. no,” he murmured, trying to pull away once more, attempting to get his racing thoughts and emotions under some sort of control again. “Conrart, stop this. It’s not what I want.”

“No,” Conrart murmured against his skin, tongue flicking out to lick the sweat from it. Josak shuddered at the contact, tingling all over. “I think you are lying to both of us.”

Suddenly Josak felt a hand cup his groin, long fingers running up his already stiff erection. He moaned deeply, head dropping forward to rest in the softness of Conrart’s hair as he shook with desire, his breathing rapid.

“See,” He heard Conrart’s soft whisper. “You lie to yourself.”

Conrart began to stroke him through his pants, the pressure increasing his pleasure. He wanted it so much, he desired this man so much, had always desired him if he was honest. After all he did love this man more than anyone else.

He felt a tugging at the front as his belt was loosened, the remains of his shirt falling away as Conrart slipped his hand inside his pants and clasped his dripping erection.

“Ah,” Josak breathed, fingers digging into the flesh beneath them. Conrart’s lips were still busy on his flesh, returning to his nipples, then slowly tracing over his pectoral muscles, trailing over ribs.

Josak felt himself being pushed back slightly so he sat back on his heels and he watched in stunned amazement as Conrart leant lower and he had but a moment to feel the warm breath caress the tip of his erection before the heated moistness of Conrart’s mouth engulfed him.

His body jerked suddenly and he bit back a cry as he tried to control his desire, clamping down, squeezing his eyes shut as though in pain. He felt that first release be lapped up by Conrart’s tongue as it ran over the tip, sliding into the slit before circling around the head to rub against the underside as he slid lower.

“Conrart,” he moaned, though whether it was a plea to cease his actions or a demand to increase them even he didn’t know anymore.

He couldn’t believe what was happening. Was he dreaming? He must be. Surely only in a dream would he see this sight of Lord Conrart Wellard swallowing his manhood and pleasuring him in this way.

He let his eyes drift shut, unable to do anything more but enjoy the experience, go with the flow of sensations that coursed through his body. His body was beginning to demand more. It could certainly get its release in this manner, it was that close already, but it wanted more as well.

Josak realised what he was thinking and knew he had to stop this before it went any further. He could finish himself off later. For now he had to get Conrart to realise that this was a mistake, that he was pushing Josak to his limits now.

He gripped Conrart’s hair tightly and tugged his head up, feeling those moist lips slide upwards in a slow agonising yet blissful way, until they left his erection completely. He forced Conrart to look up at him and he almost completely lost his self control in seeing the dishevelled appearance of his Captain, his hair falling forward into his eyes, cheeks flushed, lips gleaming with saliva and slightly swollen looking.

Josak pushed those fiery thoughts down again. He had to remain in control. He gripped both Conrart’s shoulders tightly, looking him in the eye.

“That’s enough, Conrart,” he said. “No more.”

He slid back on the bed, intending to leave but Conrart reached out and gripped his arms.

“No, it’s not enough!” he said sharply.

“You don’t know what you are saying!” Josak tried again. “I am only a man and I have my limits. If this goes on I will do something we will both regret!”

He tried to move again but Conrart’s hands tightened on him.

“Then lose control!” he hissed, staring directly at Josak.

Josak jerked at that comment, a flood of desire shooting through him at this command to do precisely what he was fighting so hard against. No, he couldn’t take it as that. He felt anger begin to grow in him at his friend putting him in this position and that suddenly made his thoughts clarify. Of course, that was what this was all about. He had been a fool to not have realised sooner.

“You’re only doing this because you’ve lost Julia!” he snapped out.

He saw the flash of pain in Conrart’s eyes and hated himself for being the cause of it, yet the anger still was there because he realised he was right. Anger, and a flicker of hurt that he was nothing more than a substitute. Yet Conrart didn’t release him, instead his hands tightened their hold.

“Don’t ever mention her again to me,” he said hoarsely. “And don’t mistake my feelings for her as for you!”

He pushed himself back against Josak, kissing him fiercely. This time Josak found the strength to push him away, regardless of his feelings, the force sending Conrart falling back onto the bed. Josak glared down at him, truly angry now as his emotions raged through him.

“What the hell do you want from me?!” he cried, glaring down at him, fists clenched, chest heaving. “You’ll kill yourself doing this!”

“Then take me!” Conrart cried, lying there on the bed, spreading his arms wide, opening himself to Josak, his eyes daring him, goading him. “Take all of me! Kill me with your love! Make me forget everything! Take me back to the time when it was just the two of us!”

Josak froze, looking down at Conrart, captured by the sight laid out before him. There would be never be another time like this. He could no longer deny his own feelings, or Conrart’s demands.

He dropped forward, slipping one hand along the side of Conrart’s face, sliding up to his hair, gripping tightly and crushed his mouth against the lips of his beloved Captain, vowing to take everything that was being offered. He didn’t know if what he was doing was right or wrong any longer, all he knew was that he had to do it.

Conrart met his ardour just as strongly, nothing soft or gentle or delicate. They were two men racing towards the peak of desire, seeking it, striving for it, wanting it, needing it. And finding it in each other.

Josak didn’t lose his mind completely. He was fully aware that Conrart was still badly injured and he didn’t want him straining himself. As he had given himself to Josak he intended to keep that control and thus ensure that Conrart didn’t overextend himself. He laid carefully on Conrart, slightly to the side so his full weight did not rest on the injured man as he reached out and touched that firm flesh.

He let his hands roam gently over the body beneath him, feeling Conrart do the same. Each touch seemed to excite them equally as they continued to kiss and caress. Josak slowly dropped kisses against Conrart’s neck, trailing along the jawbone out to the ear, sucking on the lobe, nibbling, listening to Conrart’s soft breathy gasps.

He kissed his way down Conrart’s sternum, out to his nipples and now returned the favour Conrart had bestowed upon him previously in pleasuring those two rosy nubs. Conrart arched into his touch and he laid a hand on one hip and gently pushed him back onto the bed, cautioning him to take it easy.

As he suckled he let the hand on the hip slide inwards until it touched the hardness encased in Conrart’s pants and he heard the deep moan rumbled in the chest his lips were pressed against. He deftly slipped his hand beneath the waist band, fingers sliding across flesh until he touched the warm firm flesh and wrapped his fingers around it. Conrart jerked at his touch, hips thrusting upwards into his grip, a cry falling from his lips, a cry of pure pleasure.

That sound only enflamed Josak as he began to stroke Conrart’s shaft, sliding his hand along his length, sliding his thumb across the head to collect the precum leaking from the slit. Conrart writhed under his hand as he began to kiss his body, moving ever lower, down the sternum, across the taut abdomen, over ribs that protruded too much after long hard years on the battle lines.

Lower he let his head move until he reached his goal. He breathed in the musky aroma of Conrart’s scent as he nestled his nose in the dark pubic hair, the scent of arousal and sweat, the scent of a man.

Josak had never been with a man before, women having been his only pleasure till now. He knew some soldiers who preferred the company of men, there were always a few in the ranks, some discreet, others not. He had never been bothered by this but he also had never had any interest in discovering what they found so pleasurable about this kind of liaison. Now he was finding out first hand but he could never have done this with anyone else, it was only because it was Conrart that he was. Only for Conrart.

He lifted his head a fraction so he could gaze upon Conrart’s erection held in his hand. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Conrart naked, nor in a state of arousal but never had he been this close at that time, never had he been holding that state of arousal in his hand, never had he known for absolute certainty that he was the reason for that state of arousal.

He brought his lips closer to the glistening tip, letting his breath wash over it before lightly dropping a kiss to the tip. He then licked his lips, moistening them and opened his mouth to take in the tip slowly, before slowly descending, pushing Conrart’s erection deeper down his throat. He felt Conrart’s body shudder under his touch, the desperate moans, the ragged breathing.

“Josak,” he heard Conrart whisper, “Josak.”

The sound was intoxicating to Josak, spurring him on. He moved his head up and down, letting his tongue press against the hard flesh within his mouth, sucking Conrart in deeper each time. He felt Conrart arching up against him again, hips trying to thrust and set a much faster and demanding rhythm.

Josak felt himself becoming exited as well. Raising his head he slipped both hands around Conrart’s hips tugging his pants down, baring his arousal fully, and slowly down the long lithe legs. Josak caught his breath at the sight of Conrart lying there completely naked, aroused, breathing heavily. He met those brown eyes that seemed to flash with hidden fires drawing Josak in like a moth to a flame.

Conrart pushed himself up and reached out for Josak, touching his already undone pants and pushing them down over his hips. Josak gently caught his hands and eased him backwards till he was lying on the bed once more and then removed his pants himself. He felt Conrart’s eyes roam over his body and felt himself flush under that intense scrutiny. He wasn’t embarrassed by it; on the contrary it excited him further.

He slowly leant down, hovering over Conrart, pausing for a moment until Conrart reached for him, hands sliding over bare flesh and drawing him down. They lay there together, hands roaming over bodies, lips meeting in deep kisses, hips pressed tightly together. Their erections rubbed against their stomachs and each other, drawing moans from them both as they thrust against the pressure. He returned to stroking Conrart to completion, hearing his cry as he climaxed, his seed spilling over his hand and coating it liberally.

Josak was reaching his limit once more. He pulled his head away from where it was buried in Conrart’s neck so he could speak, meeting his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, his voice breaking with his uncertainty. Perhaps Conrart had changed his mind by now and this would all be over.

Conrart looked back at him steadily, leaning forward to brush a kiss over his lips.

“Yes,” was all he said. “Make me forget everything.” He begged Josak with his eyes and he couldn’t deny his lord.

He placed a soft kiss on Conrart’s lips and slowly sat up. He moved carefully, shifting Conrart’s legs apart so he could kneel between them, raising them so they wrapped around his waist. He ran his hands along Conrart’s bent legs, feeling the play of muscles under his touch, drawing ever closer to Conrart’s entrance.

He slipped his slick fingers inside, one first and then slowly a second. He saw the flash of discomfort and wondered if he should cease what he was doing but Conrart gave no other indication that he didn’t wish to continue. So Josak didn’t stop.

Finally he felt that he had done all he could and Conrad appeared to be showing no pain or discomfort by this time, even moaning and writhing beneath his touch, pushing upwards against his hand, this sight only inflaming him more.

He let his fingers slide out and positioned his aching erection in their place and pushed forward. He held his breath as he did so, clenching his teeth as he pushed against the barrier of flesh. It seemed at first that he would not succeed, that there was no way he would be able to continue with this act and was almost ready to withdraw completely when with a final push the ring of muscle gave way beneath him and he slid into the heated channel.

He gasped at the contact, hearing Conrart echo him. He found he couldn’t move, Conrart’s muscles gripping him tightly, almost painfully. He could go neither in nor out and he didn’t know what he should do.

He reached out and wrapped his hand around Conrart’s manhood, slowly stroking it, stroking also his stomach, the soft inner thighs, reaching down to lightly roll his testicles before returning to his penis.

“Conrart,” he whispered, letting all his feelings for this man fill his voice.

Conrart’s eyes opened and fastened on him at his words and he felt the until recently limp member twitch within his grip. He maintained the eye contact and smiled at Conrart.

“You are everything to me,” he whispered, this act they were sharing bringing out a raw honesty in him that no other time could do so. “Always.”

Conrart mirrored his smile, gentle, warm, and loving, that was the smile that Josak had first fallen in love with as a child, a smile that he had so rarely seen since the war had begun.

“Always,” Conrart agreed. “Remember, always.”

He reached his arms up towards Josak who leant down so their lips could touch and the muscles that had clamped him tightly in place suddenly relaxed and he gasped as he slid even further as Conrart arched beneath him.

He held his lover in his arms, just letting himself continue to slide inwards so slowly, just a moment at a time. He then slowly began to withdraw before sliding forward again, to repeat the gesture. Conrart moaned as he pushed inwards again, hands clenching against his skin.

He suddenly was overcome by intense desire flooding through him and he realised that this time he would not be able to stem it.

“Sorry,” he grated out as he pulled himself upright, breaking the cinch he and Conrart had been clasped in. Sitting up he pushed himself in even deeper as he grabbed at Conrart’s bent knees and pulled him in tighter, watching the man beneath him cry out, full erection twitching against his stomach.

This sight was just incredible, completely breathtaking in its beauty and eroticism and his movements began to speed up as he thrust within the yielding warm body he was buried within. He kept thrusting, watching every movement Conrad made, listening to every sound that fell from those lips. Only for him did Conrart do this. Only for him did Conrart make these sounds. Only for him did Conrart’s face wear that expression. Only for him; all for him.

His hips moved quicker and his own cries were becoming more urgent now. He rushed towards his climax, half wishing that he could delay the inevitable yet knowing he could not and so let it carry him on its wave towards the crest. As he felt himself reach that pinnacle he reached down and grasped Conrart’s erection, barely able to summon up enough thought to ensure that he jerked it instead of squeezing and then felt Conrart’s own hand fumble as it wrapped around his and began to move rapidly and he heard Conrart’s voice take on a new tone.

Together the two of them rushed to that apex; rushed it, reached it, cried out and fell together, spilling their seed in conjunction, Conrart’s spurting out across their clasped hands and over his shuddering body, Josak’s flooding the hot channel that squeezed around his throbbing erection, wringing every last drop from his body until he was completely spent.

He gave one final shudder and fell forward, having enough semblance of thought to ensure that he caught himself before crushing Conrart. He felt strong arms encircle his back, holding him, almost cradling him. It made him feel safe, secure, it seemed to wash away all the pains and horrors of the war making all seem right with the world again.

Josak rolled to his side, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at the man at his side. He reached out one hand and gently touched the cheek, gazing into the eyes.

“You can cry now,” he said softly.

He felt Conrart start a little at his words and then his eyes grew brighter. He turned his head aside, breaking his gaze with Josak.

Josak sighed a little. “It is right to mourn your loss,” he said, accepting Conrart’s love for Julia. “You need to do so.”

He had guessed that Conrart had not been able to cry for his loss, the pain so much that he had bottled it all up inside with no outlet, and without a release Josak worried that it would eat away at his friend and eventually break him.

Conrart rolled to his side, turning away from Josak completely. He sighed again and reached out, enfolding Conrart in his embrace, drawing him back against his chest.

“Cry, Conrart. Cry for all that you have lost.” he whispered softly against his hair.

Conrart’s body was tense at first in his embrace and then a long shudder went through him as his muscles relaxed and then Josak felt the first tear fall upon his arm and was soon followed by the first shuddering sob and these two things were the beginning of the bursting of the dam and Josak held him as he cried like a lost child, clinging to him tightly until he finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

-oOo-

Josak sighed and looked up at the window again. The rain had ceased although the black clouds still hung heavily in the sky.


He had awoken in the morning before Conrart, gazing down at the man beside him, bathed in the first rays of dawn. Josak thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Even the pale drawn face, the dark shadows under the closed eyes, the redness around the lids that was evidence of the many tears that had been shed in the darkness, even all of that could not detract from his beauty. To Josak’s eyes it only added to it, showing that vulnerable side of Conrart that was rarely seen and so cherished all the more. No matter how strong a person was, there would be a time when they would need to lean on someone else and Josak felt grateful that Conrart had chosen him at that time.

Carefully he had got out of bed and went to warm some water. Conrart was still sleeping when he returned so he gently sponged him down, almost regretfully removing all traces of their passion from during the night. He carefully wiped the tear streaked face last, erasing those signs of sorrow although only time would heal the wound. Conrart murmured under his touch making him pause for moment, concerned that he had disturbed him, but he didn’t wake.

When he was finished in his task he carefully pulled the bedding up, covering Conrart’s nakedness from any casual eyes and quickly cleaned the room, ensuring there was no sign of what they had done that night. With a last touch to that stubbled cheek he had left, shutting the door silently behind him.

They had never spoken of that night again nor had that act been repeated. Since that time he had often wondered if Conrart had thought it was all just a fevered dream. In fact he had often wondered the same thing. Had it been real? Or had he just imagined it all?

As time passed, the whole thing faded in his memory, taking on a slightly surreal quality.

At first he had blamed himself when Conrart left the Demon Kingdom not long afterwards. He didn’t know why he had left or where he had gone, just suddenly he had found himself abandoned by his Lord. It had hurt back then and he had feared he had been the cause for driving Conrart away.

But then he had returned and it had seemed like nothing had changed, he treated Josak just the same and so he had come to think of it all as his own pent up desires and wanton imagination, nothing more.

But now, whatever the past had been, now he was faced with a far harder situation. Conrart had betrayed the Demon King, turned his back on the Kingdom, gone over to the side of Big Cimaron who had become their enemy. Conrart was lost to them more surely than when he had disappeared to the alternate world -and it was tearing Josak’s heart apart.

Josak would not abandon the young king. Yuri had become very dear to him, not least in the start because Conrart had held him so precious, but he loved the young boy now for himself and truly had begun to believe that this King might finally be the one to mend so many ills within the world. So no, he wouldn’t abandon the King for anything – or anyone.

Conrart’s face rose before him and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and block out the vision. He would not dwell on it, although a part of his heart still refused to believe Conrart would do what he had done. Perhaps it was his too trusting nature, the same nature that had led him to follow Conrart right from the start. It all seemed so wrong and so against everything Conrart was. That was why he found it so hard to believe.

But no matter what, he had to just go on doing what he had to and have faith that one day Conrart would explain to him why this had happened.

The door slammed open startling him as two bodies hurtled inwards, arguing.

“You’re such a wimp,” Wolfram was saying, tossing his blond hair from his flashing green eyes. “You haven’t got a clue about battle strategy so how do you think you’re going to be any help? You’ll just be in the way.”

“Well, I can’t just let everyone else go off to war and perhaps die for no reason!” Yuri shouted back, hands clenched in fists by his side as he faced down his fiancée. “There’s got to be another way to sort this out!”

Josak smiled slightly. Ah, the energy of the young, he thought, feeling every one of his years.

“Josak, pound some sense into him, will you?” Wolfram said, turning to him.

“Now, your Excellency, why don’t we go with his Majesty to speak with Gwendol and Günter, hmm?”

“As if they’re going to be any help?! Humph!” Wolfram snorted as he stalked from the room.

“Hey, wait for me!” Yuri shouted following.

“Then hurry up! You’re so slow!” Wolfram called back.

Josak followed, closing the door, watching and listening as the two of the boys continued to argue all the way.

His smile grew. He had his own job to do – to keep these two young men safe and protect them, especially His Majesty. That was his job now. With Conrart no longer here it was his responsibility as Conrart’s best friend to step into that role; of that he was sure Conrart would wish of him.

So he would take up that mantle and carry it out as effectively as he could. And one day, one day he hoped that his lord, his friend, his only one, would return to him.