Strangers Together

STRANGERS TOGETHER

         A tavern was a tavern was a tavern.

         This one was smaller than most, but just as dark and musty. Jorin sat in the corner farthest from the door, his back to the wall. He would have enjoyed a smoke, but his supply of pipeweed had run out a fortnight since, and what passed for leaf here-about turned his stomach. The place wasn’t crowded for the first time in the month he’d made this table his usual spot, but the gale the blew outside had kept many in their homes. He heard the wind howling, grateful for the sturdy walls and roof, wishing the hearth-fire were a bit more warming.

         Two full fortnights he’d made himself a fixture in this coastal village, too small to be called a town, its cove too open to be a harbor. A wooden pier ran into deep water, offering moorage for the small fleet of trawlers that plied the shoals just over the horizon. When the catch came in the entire population worked night and day to salt it down, ready for the next caravan along the King’s Road just one range of hills inland. When there was no catch, or the weather kept the boats far to sea, there was little to do but sit in the only tavern. Though some of the men gambled at dice or cards, or threw darts, Jorin sat quietly in his corner. He had hoped to recruit a local agent, one who could make note of comings and goings, reporting to the far-wandering Rangers, but he had yet to find a likely candidate.

         It was the Rangers who kept the roads safe, the Rangers who saw to it that grain moved from the plains to the shore and salted cod back again. It was the Rangers who brought the King’s justice to all reaches of his realm.

         A dark-eyed wench, the barman’s daughter, set a bowl of stew in front of him, still steaming from the pot. A rounded loaf of bread completed the meal, but the girl turned away before the Ranger could smile his thanks. Tearing the loaf in two, he sopped the smaller piece in the thick broth, and pushed a lump of what he thought was meat onto the point of his knife.

         The wind gusted through the tavern as the door opened and was quickly slammed shut. A slender man, dark hair wild about his swarthy face under a bright bandana, leaned against the stout door, dripping copiously into a growing puddle on the stone-flagged floor. His eyes were smudged with black, and a tooth glinted gold in the lamplight. He stepped up to the bar and propped one booted foot on the rail at its base. Casually he said, “A pint of your finest, my good man.”

         “Have ye coin?” the barman growled.

         Leaning across the bar, the newcomer confided, “That would be… uh… no, I’m afraid.” Deftly he ducked the barman’s backhanded slap. “How can you deny a man a pint on a night like this?” he wailed.

         A coin landed on the bar between the two men. “Give him a pint,” Jorin called, replacing his purse on his belt. The barman shrugged and drew a pint of ale before snatching up the coin. But the time he’d dropped it in the till, the newcomer had made his way to Jorin’s table.

         “I thank ye, mate.” He stuck out his hand. “Tanney’s the name. Pern Tanney.”

         Jorin looked from the man’s face to his hand and back again, but didn’t offer his hand in response. He nodded at an empty chair and took another bite of his stew.

         Tanney took the seat with a wet, squishing sound and half-drained the mug of ale. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed. “Oh, I needed that.”

         “You can call me Jorin.” He followed Tanney’s eyes to the trencher of stew and slid it to the center of the table. “Help yourself.”

         “Ah, thank you, friend Jorin. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I ate a proper meal.”

         Jorin had traveled the length and breadth of the known world and had never heard the like of the newcomer’s accent, nor seen his style of dress. “You’re not from around here,”

         “If I knew where here was, mate, I could tell you.” Tanney swallowed another gulp of ale. “Last I remember, we was caught in one of them hurry-canes off the Carolinas. You don’t happen to know the Carolinas, now, do ye?”

         “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of them.”

         “Anyways, we was hit with a monster wave, and the wind was howling like a banshee.” He rolled his eyes. “I thought the ship was going down for sure.” He stuffed another chunk of bread into his mouth.

         “Then what?”

         “When I came to,” he mumbled around the bread, “I was holding onto ship’s timber – flotsam, like. Then this great black ship pulled me out of the water. Corsairs, they said they was. Dumped me overboard just off the cape. Took me near to a day just to swim ashore and find this… uh, fine establishment.”

         “You’re lucky they didn’t just kill you.”

         “Luck’s me middle name.” Tanney proceeded to devour the remainder of Jorin’s meal, and two more pints of ale besides.

         “If you’re up to braving the storm for a short way, I’ve a place you can dry off. Maybe even some clothes that’ll fit you.” The two pairs of eyes met and held each other’s gaze for a long moment before Tanney’s nod accepted the invitation.

         The sun had not yet set, but the sky was dark under the storm’s clouds. The wind blew the rain nearly horizontal, stinging and cold as it forced its way under hoods and into cloaks. Jorin and Tanney leaned into the wind as the Ranger led them away from the tavern, threading through muddy alleys and cobbled streets already awash with water. He ducked into an alcove, the protected entryway to a chandler’s shop, opened the side door leading to a narrow flight of steps and climbed them quickly.

         The stairs opened into a single room above the shop, lit by a single lamp. A bed and table flanked the shuttered window that overlooked the street, and a threadbare divan faced a cold hearth. Jorin tossed a folded blanket to Tanney. “Take off those wet clothes and I’ll get a fire going. This storm will blow all night.”

         Hopping on one foot, Tanney first pulled off one boot, then the other, pouring water from them to form a puddle on the wooden floor. “Sorry, mate,” he muttered, then continued to strip the soaking clothes from his body.

         Jorin paid no attention to the water on the floor, but busied himself sparking flint and steel to the stacked logs on the grate. The wood caught, but would take some time to blaze up and warm the room. He turned back to Tanney to find him wrapped in the blanket, the wet clothes piled on the floor. Removing his own cloak, he hung it on a ladder-backed chair, then pulled off his boots. His clothes weren’t as soaked as Tanney’s, but he disrobed as well, knowing he’d never get warm if he wasn’t dry.

         They sat perched on the divan, both wrapped in blankets, feet as close to the fire as they could stand without burning. A shudder wracked Tanney from head to toe, and he clutched the blanket more tightly.

         “Here,” Jorin said, “sit closer. We’ll both get warmer.” As a Ranger, Jorin was well accustomed to spending time alone. He spent months at a time making his way from town to town, city to city, from far northwest to the east to the south, and now far to the southeast, near the farthest reaches of the known world. But still the company of another was desirable, the warmth of another body next to his in the chill of the night more than he could ask.

         Without hesitation Tanney moved closer to the Ranger, sitting shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, the thin fleece of the blankets the only thing between them. “It were fine of ye to take me in, like,” Tanney said, his teeth still chattering. “I could tell you was a man of quality.”

         “We’re both strangers here,” Jorin commented. “We should stick together.” He shifted to reach an arm along the back of the divan, angling his body to slide his chest behind Tanney’s shoulder. Hoping his intent was clear, he lifted the corner of his blanket and spread it over Tanney as well.

         Tanney craned his head to look into the ranger’s eyes again. “I think…” He cleared his throat. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

         Dipping his head, Jorin pressed his lips against Tanney’s, and immediately found his arms full of naked, passionate man. The blankets slipped aside, allowing the two lean bodies to meet unimpeded. Folding his arms around Tanney, Jorin ran his hands along the strongly muscled shoulders and back, down to the firm, round ass that had so attracted him from the very first.

         Tanney pulled back from Jorin’s kiss with a low moan. “I thought you had something like this in mind.”

         “You seem to be a good judge of people.” Jorin’s voice was low and rough with his wanting. He had been alone for months, not daring to encumber himself and his mission with either long-term or short-term relationships. This stranger, though, enticed him, and had little to do with his mission. They could share this night, or a fortnight, then go their separate ways.

         “You have no idea.” Tanney resumed the interrupted kiss, his arms finding their way around the Ranger’s body.

         So entwined, the two men found themselves lying together on the divan, their nude bodies both becoming aroused as they continued to use their hands and mouths to learn of each other. They were both lean and well-muscled, fair skin weathered from lifetimes in the wilds. Jorin’s shoulder length hair dried in waves around his face while Tanney’s darker locks, weighted with odd ornaments, continued to drip down his back and between them.

         Neither of them paid any notice to the occasional droplet as their kisses deepened and they opened to one another. Skin once cold to the touch rapidly heated under their caresses. Soon the divan proved too narrow for their explorations to proceed, and as one they rolled to the floor, the blankets that once warmed them cushioning the wooden planks. Each of them intuitively knew what the other liked, what he needed.

         The light from the now-blazing fire danced over their fully aroused bodies, their erections pressed between them. Slowly Jorin took his kissed from Tanney’s delicious mouth, skimming down his throat to his paler chest, finding the dark trail to his groin. Gently he fondled the other man’s balls, relishing their firm weight in his hand as he touched the tip of his tongue to the dark crown of Tanney’s cock.

         Tanney bucked beneath him, his hands grabbing at Jorin’s shoulders. “I can’t reach you,” he mumbled. “Let me….”

         Before Tanney could go on, Jorin spun his legs around, moaning in pleasure when his own cock was engulfed by Tanney’s mouth. All reason fled his mind as Tanney’s tongue lapped at the center of his being, and he felt his own balls cradled in a strong hand. Letting go of whatever inhibition remained, he returned kiss for kiss, caress for caress, until he no longer controlled his own body, but merely responded to Tanney’s ministrations. The heat of his passion built in him, coiling deep in his belly. Again Tanney bucked beneath him, and the first taste of seed brought on his own release. He greedily swallowed all Tanney gave him, a part of him aware his own seed poured into Tanney’s throat.

         Both sated for the moment, they rolled away from each other, lying head to toe on the floor before the roaring fire. They each breathed in ragged gasps that eventually slowed to more regular breathing. Before he fell into the expected post-coital stupor, Jorin turned again, bringing him face to face with Tanney, and gathered him into his arms. Tanney hummed deep in his throat and nuzzled into the hollow of Jorin’s shoulder, molding his body to the Ranger’s. With his last grasp on consciousness, Jorin pulled one of the blankets to cover the both of them, then drifted off, secure in the arms of his newest lover.

# # #

         The fire had burned down to embers and the lamp burned out when the dawn sneaked in through the shuttered window. Jorin and Tanney lay before the hearth, Tanney’s head pillowed on Jorin’s shoulder, their arms and legs still entwined.

         Awakening first, Jorin took stock of his position before opening his eyes, and with a smile pressed a kiss to Tanney’s forehead. “It’s morning.” He searched his memory, a bit fuzzy, granted, and added, “Pern.” Opening his eyes he saw the sunlight behind the shutters. “It looks like the storm’s passed.” His morning erection pressed into Tanney’s hips, and he felt a matching hardness against his thigh.

         A hum preceded the kiss on his chest, and Jorin knew Tanney was awake. Mutual caresses soon followed the kisses, and morning erections quickly escalated into full-blooded arousals. Jorin found Tanney’s mouth and kissed him, thrusting his tongue deeply in to the other man’s mouth, then drawing Tanney’s tongue into his own. They pressed together, shoulder to groin, tumescent cocks aligned between their bellies. Hands grasping firm buttocks, Jorin slid his fingers between the smooth butt cheeks, searching for the hidden entrance. His fingers grazed the puckered opening, and Tanney gasped, pulling away from their kiss.

         “I’m all yours, friend Jorin,” he whispered. “Any way you’d like.”

         Squeezing Tanney’s ass once more, Jorin pushed himself away from his very willing lover. “First,” he said between deep gasps, “let’s move to the bed. This floor is too hard.”

         “I can tell you’ve not been to sea, my friend,” Tanney quipped. “This is fine compared to ‘up against the mast’ like I’m used to.” They both pulled themselves to their feet, neither of them modest in their nakedness, the bits of sunlight enough for them to see each other, both of them appreciative of the sight of the other.

         Jorin took Tanney by the hand and led him to the plain-covered bed, the mattress as comfortable as any he’d known away from his childhood home. He flipped open the slats in the upper potion of the shutters, letting daylight into the room. He turned back to Tanney to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back invitingly on his elbows.

         “So it’s been up against the mast for you, has it?” Jorin looked him up and down, for the first time clearly seeing the well-defined chest muscles, the flat abdomen, the long, lean legs. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the blood rush to his groin, throbbing all the more in his erection.

         “Started as a cabin boy when I was ten,” Tanney answered, his dark eyes riveted on Jorin, his gaze somewhat lower than the eyes. He touched his tongue to his lips and took a deep breath, letting it escape slowly. “Now over here with you, and we’ll see what you can do with that spar of yours.”

         Jorin obediently stepped to the side of the bed, positioning himself between Tanney’s knees. “Cabin boy, was it? That must be where you learned such wonderful techniques.”

         “Tanney’s eyes sparkled and he winked at Jorin. He reached one hand to stroke Jorin’s hip, then sat up to bring his mouth close to the Ranger’s groin. Delicately he drew the tip of his tongue along the throbbing vein the length of Jorin’s erection, then circled the swollen crown.

         Jorin gasped as his cock was drawn into Tanney’s mouth, hardly able to keep from thrusting into the hot cavern, though Tanney’s hands gripped his hips tightly, holding him still. Taking Jorin’s full length into his mouth and throat, he pulled back slowly, his lips and tongue working a magic Jorin had never experienced and wanted to last forever.

         “What’ll it be?” Tanney asked. “Arse up? Or face to face?” He pushed himself back onto the bed and stretched out, making room for Jorin to join him. Raising his knees to his chest, Tanney winked again and welcomed Jorin into his embrace.

         Jorin was ready – more than ready; he ached to take Tanney completely. His cock leaked copiously, and he spread his own essence over the throbbing shaft. Sitting back on his heels he used his slickened fingers to tease and prepare the offered opening before pushing himself past the guardian sphincter and into the hot, tight channel. He thrust and pulled back over and over in an increasing rhythm until they were both lost in the ever spiraling ecstasy that finally erupted between and within them, and they sank into the deep slumber of morning lovers.

# # #

         For a seven-day they stayed together, leaving the small upper room only to slake their hunger and thirst, returning to the intense and enthusiastic love-making they had found with one another.

         “I have to be going.” Tanney’s voice was low, pitched only for Jorin to hear in the back corner of the tavern where they had first met. He took a deep draught from his tankard of ale, his eyes never leaving Jorin’s gaze.

         “What do you mean?” the Ranger asked.

         “I can’t stay on land this long. I’ve got to go back to the sea.”

         Jorin had heard of the call of the sea, but usually it was only the Fey who heard it, succumbing by sailing to the West, to the Summer Land. But Tanney was no Faery, as far as Jorin could discern.

         “I’ve always been at sea, m’love,” he went on. “I’m out of place here – as much as you are.” When Jorin didn’t respond to him he continued. “I know you don’t belong here abouts. I can see dreams of wide open spaces in your eyes. You need the wilds as much as I need the waves.” He took Jorin’s hand in his own, lifted it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the knuckles.

         “Where will you go?” Jorin forced the words from his throat past the tightness that threatened to choke him.

         “There’s a ship what docked yesterday is looking for a second mate. A bit below my usual berth,” he admitted, “but it’ll put me at sea, where I belong.” He dropped Jorin’s hand and drained the tankard, then rose to his feet. With a flourish he doffed his hat to Jorin, bowing over his extended leg in a style the Ranger had never seen before. “Maybe I’ll find a gale to blow me back to the Carolinas.” He turned on his heel and left the tavern without a backward glance.

         Jorin watched him go, silently wishing him well.

THE END