meds4sale | Open Post

He watched the progress of the washcloth from under hooded lashes, nipples stiffening from the gentle attention. There had been a steady heat in his loins since Arthur had first brought him inside and kissed him, but it had been background noise to the dozens of louder emotions; joy, relief, curiosity, affection...

Lust had taken a bit of a backseat, but it seemed to be creeping towards the front.

"I began as a fox. Small and pale, I suppose my mother thought it kinder to leave me to the late frosts than the inevitable jaws of some beasts. Humans thought otherwise, and raised me first as a kit, and then a child when my form... changed."

Arthur listened to his tale, scrubbing slowly all the while, moving down to his thighs, avoiding between his legs for the time being. However he’d wrapped an arm around the medicine seller, fingers lightly teasing a nipple while he worked.

“Left by your mamma and raised by humans only to turn into a human? Sounds like quite a rough early start. What happened after?”

"It was quite gentle compared to many. I was loved and cared for and was able to learn many interesting things abo-"

His breath hitched, hips twitched and his head fell back with a pleased sigh, bearing his throat to Arthur. It had been a very long time since he'd given his youth much consideration, and he wasn't entirely sure if he could focus with the attention given to his sensitive thighs.

"-about herbalism and hunting," he finished, a touch breathlessly.

"I started traveling when I was grown, returned every few years to visit. But eventually, there was nothing left to visit."

Arthur pressed a kiss to the man's shoulder, letting up on the teasing to hear more about the other's past. He had him sit up to work on his back next, shifting his long hair over to one side to keep it from getting soapy just yet.

"Nothing? Was people leavin', or dyin'?" he asked

"Both; the first because of the second."

He let Arthur work, falling quiet for a time. It had been so long ago, the memory felt dim and distant.

"I met someone who had managed to leave - some manner of plague had taken most of them. If I recall the symptoms correctly, I think it was smallpox."

"That's hard." he said, rinsing the cloth and setting it aside before washing all the suds off the medicine seller's skin.

"Been through some places that up and lost their populations. Ghost towns. Strange to see time itself stands still in them sorts of places. Colter was an abandoned mining town we stayed in during May, think if we wasn't half starved and frozen all that time we would have been unsettled more by it all. And I passed through what was probably the smallest town I ever saw, Pleasance, down in Lemonye awhile after our first meetin'. No idea for sure how they was run out. Might have been plague, or they was all murdered for worshipping the Devil. No one around there talks of them and place gave me the creeps so I didn't linger too long to find out."

Arthur then got to work on the other's hair, having him get it soaked through and then worked the soap in turn.

"Lost my momma when I was young, remember very little of her, though she was kind. My daddy were a cruel son of a bitch, and saw him swing when I was eleven. Did your parents make it?"

"This was well past their time," he explained, one of the many peculiarities to his longevity.

"Other children I had grown up with were grandparents and great grandparents when the village was decimated. It does not make it any better, but it was... less personal."

With his hair soaked, he let the tension out of his shoulders, letting Arthur work as he gave a soft stroke to the other man's cheek.

"Is that when you joined up with your gang...?" he asked.

"After your father died, that is."

Arthur leaned into the gentle caress, kissing the other's knuckles then going back to massaging soap deep into his scalp and then through his hair down to the ends.

"Little afterwards. Was fourteen when I tried to steal from Dutch and Hosea, they decided they liked this scrappy brat and took me under their wings into a life of crime." he smiled at the long ago memories.

"They taught me a lot. How to read and write, ride, shoot, almost everythin' I learned I learned from them. It was good in the beginning. We fancied ourselves the American Robin Hoods, robbin' from rich folk, using just enough to keep clothes on our backs and food in our bellies, then the rest we gave to those on the street."

His body lax as the other man worked his fingers through his hair, his eyes closed as he wrung another contented sigh out of him, the Medicine Seller was practically putty in Arthur's hands as he listened.

It sounded like these men - Dutch and Hosea - were essentially the parents Arthur never had.

But Arthur had said that Dutch had left him to die...

"What changed?"

Because obviously something had taken a sour turn at some point.

Arthur paused at the question, then continued to run his suds-covered hands through the other's hair, working the soap deep and thorough, much better at it compared to when they first bathed together in the river.

"Even after months of thinkin' on it, I ain't sure to be honest. Maybe it started in Blackwater when Dutch killed a woman in cold blood. Maybe further back and I just didn't see the signs. We was a small group for a long time, just the three of us. We didn't pick up John until after..."

He paused again, rising off his hands and began to rinse the other's hair out, having him lay back a bit in order to do so.

"When I was twenty two, I met a girl, Eliza, waitress at a place we often visited. We got on fine, more than fine...Well, long story short, she got pregnant. Kept the baby despite knowin' what I was and that I couldn't be there for her all the time. I weren't the settlin' sort, and the gang and loyalty to stayin' with it meant more to me than a kid. Still, did what I could, stopped by whenever we was in the area, gave her money and things when the boy was born."

Arthur's voice kept him feeling grounded, that perhaps if the other man weren't speaking, the Medicine Seller would dreamily drift off.

Instead, he was able to focus on Arthur's tale. Eliza and the child were, obviously, not in the picture. He recalled him motioning that he had lost a wife and child at some point.

He also knew gangs tended to harm family and friends of those members who were out of line.

"She must have loved you dearly," he said, leaning into Arthur's touch.

"Was that the beginning of the schism between you and Dutch?"

"No, wasn't the beginning. As for Eliza, maybe she loved me, don't know for sure, we cared for one another but, my whole being was for the gang and she knew it. She and Isaac, the boy, were robbed and killed some years later. Came back one time and found two crosses outside the house. Learned from a neighbor what happened. Solidified my loyalty to the gang even more. Then, later, I met Mary."

Arthur finished washing the soap from the medicine seller's hair, pressed a kiss to his shoulder and wrapped an arm around him.

"She was a woman of high breedin' you might say, her parents hated me, her father especially, knew what I was. Still, we was in love, for a long time. And after what happened with Eliza, I didn't want to feel that heartache again. Hosea had left the gang for a time, married, figured it was okay for me to do the same. Dutch never protested. So, I asked Mary to marry me." he smiled. "We was young and happy, looking foreword to livin' together and all that. But, of course, great ol' dad weaseled his way in. I couldn't provide for her, spent every dime of my money on that ring and he knew it. Mary eventually relented and well, we broke."

Arthur sighed and sat back with the other man in his arms.

"After that I swore to myself to keep to the gang. Only thing that mattered. Only loyalty mattered. Was my undoing I guess. Blackwater might have been the start of things between Dutch and I, but I didn't see it for myself until it was too late. Until he strangled an old woman, until he walked away from helpin' me when I was a knife's edge from death, until he gave up John for dead, until he refused to help Abigail..."

Resting his arm on the edge of the tub, he dipped his fingers in the soapy water, still warm enough but they'd have to get out soon. "Weren't until that day we last met that I knew loyalty and so many years beside him didn't matter no more."

With his hair done, the Medicine Seller turned on his side to circle his arm around Arthur's shoulders, giving him something to pillow his head on. His other hand came to rest gently on the arm around his waist, trailing his fingers over the damp hairs.

"An endless string of hardships, it seems."

Every time Arthur's life seemed to take a turn for the better, something had to come along and destroy it. His first marriage, his near second, the very gang he devoted himself to...

No wonder he had come to this cool and quiet region. Just a little peace for once in his life.

"...It sounds as though Dutch took a flying leap off the pedestal he put himself on."

He gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, before reaching for one of the towels to start dabbing dry the upper half of Arthur that wasn't in the water.

The warmth was starting to turn tepid, and would soon be not quite enough to counter the cool air of the cabin, and bathtime would soon be over. A shame, but then he could put another log on the fire and they could spend a nice, peaceful evening keeping warm.

"Maybe. Maybe I just dug around the flat rock he'd sat down on and kept digging until I was in my own grave." he sighed.

He allowed the drying, gaze miles away.

"I often thought about going to look for him yea know. See what he has to say to a ghost. Almost did, the day after I buried Hamish. Thought about taking Buell and going out into the world to find Dutch, see what sort of hand life had dealt him after he left me behind."

Slowly Arthur sat up and got out of the tub, taking the towel and working to dry himself off so he wasn't dripping over everything and then held one open to the medicine seller.

Once wrapped up, he pulled him close.

"But I'd rather spend whatever time I got with you, for as long as you'll have me."

"A much more apt metaphor," he agreed, wringing out his hair before stepping out the tub and into the towel. The Medicine Seller leaned into the embrace, arms wrapping around Arthur's shoulders.

"And yet, by some miracle, you have managed to crawl out your grave."

He lay his head in the curve under the other man's chin, eyes drifting shut for a moment. Arthur's pulse was there and real.

"...And that could be for a very long time, Arthur. I do not say I will stay lightly."

Arthur stroked his back, resting his head atop the other's own.

"Then we'll play it by ear, and if one day we find we're sick of one another, well, then we'll see."

He pressed a kiss against his forehead.

He spent some time quietly listening to the life coursing through his veins. Maybe Arthur's days were still numbered, but the count had surely shifted a bit higher than when they met for what the Medicine Seller had thought may be the last time.

"How very Zen," he mused, one hand trailing along Arthur's arm. A wind outside stirred, sending a small susurrus of snowflakes against the window. A heavy snowfall had set in and he wasn't sure if the shiver that went through his body was from the chill or the kiss to his forehead.

Pressing a kiss to the dip in Arthur's collarbone, he peered up at him.

"Shall I put another log on the fire...?"

"Zen?" he asked, but nodded at the question.

After drying off a bit more thoroughly, Arthur got them a couple blankets and they sat down by the fire as the cold, wind, and snow began to blow outside.

Arthur pulled the medicine seller into his lap, wrapping his arms around him, enjoying the small comfort.

"A branch of Bukkyo," he explained, quite content to stay dressed in only a nice, warm blanket as he settled into Arthur's lap in front of the crackling fire.

"...Buddhism, I mean. Something about spontaneity and being in the moment? I cannot say for certain. The words of monks tend to go in one ear and fall right out the other, especially when they are drunk."

"I guess that makes sense. Usually played a lot by ear considerin' how often our plans went sideways." he chuckled, caressing the other's stomach.

There never seemed to a plan that went right in those last few months. Someone always slipped up or the situation changed. Made it frustrating but, sometimes it worked in their favor. The Valentine bank rob was one of the few that went smooth as could be.

"You uhh...feel like being spontaneous tonight?" he asked, pressing a kiss against the other's neck.

"Mmm," he hummed, head tipping back reflexively. Arthur knew exactly where he was weak, and he was more than happy to let him exploit it.

"I do recall mentioning keeping you warm in the colder months..."

He reaches out of the blanket, letting it fall from his pale shoulder as he ran his fingers over Arthur's cheek and through his hair, stroking the damp locks lazily.

"Sounds wonderful darlin'" he purred, shifting close as he could, his chest pressed against his back, suckling a kiss against his pale shoulder.

When they first met and slept beside one another, the man smelled decent. As a bear though, he could pick up his smell far more clearly. Not just the soap but every person had their own unique scent. The Murfrees were largely gross, the occasional passersby were interesting.

The medicine seller was comfort. Warm and familiar, something he wanted all over him.

Oh, that was very nice - very nice indeed. The Medicine Seller could get very used to that sort of thing. But one good turn deserves another, and when Arthur was done with his shoulder, he turned in his lap to face him, the blanket sliding all the way off to pool at his hips. He shivered in the draft the flames couldn't quite keep at bay, but he didn't mind. That was soon going to be the furthest thing from their minds.

Arthur was about to get exactly what he wanted as the Medicine Seller slid his hands into the blanket to gently stroke his chest, mouth kissing along his brow and temple.

"It is strange, no? After we first parted, I thought often of seeking you out again."

Arthur withdrew so he could turn around, hands caressing his bare thighs, eyes closed as his face was kissed, and he smiled a little at the tiny affections.

"Things got real messy and busy after we left that river. Lost Sean in Rhodes, Kieran to the O'Driscolls, then Hosea and Lenny during the bank robbery. Even if you found me, I doubt I would have allowed us to spend any more time together than we did that final mornin'" he said honestly.

"So much loss in such a short amount of time," he whispered.

"I can see how you would have wanted what little time you had to yourself to grieve."

If Arthur even had the chance to do that. After all, they had been part of the closest thing the other man had to a family and yet he'd had no respite.

Thumbing over his bottom lip, he pressed his bare chest to be flush with Arthur's as he settled comfortably back down, straddling his lap.

"Though I am glad I found you again."

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