Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

cold or even the bruising sharp rocks beneath him. He was lost in that night and that stunning kiss.
    "And so let's raise that toast again, shall we? To Ren, a finer, more brave and noble friend a man could not have."
    Ren took a gulp of the sweet wine and placed the goblet back on the table. This was it. If he was going to show Con how deeply he felt for him, this was the moment to say something…do something. Without giving any thought to the consequences, he moved forward and grabbed the front of Con's shirt. Standing on his tiptoes he strained upward and planted a soft kiss on Con's lips. Lips that tasted of wine and something earthier, wilder…like…Con, they tasted like Con.
    Just as Ren began to pull away, sure that Con would laugh at his foolish attempts at love, he felt a hand grab the back of his head and capture his mouth again in a second bruising kiss. Ren's lips fell open as he moaned aloud. He felt Con's tongue snake in and sweep the inside of his mouth, possessing it completely. With his body on fire, Ren pressed up against Con even as he was pulled against the other man's hips.
    "Yours, Con, all yours." Ren murmured the phrase over and over into Con's hot mouth, the words getting lost in the other man's moans. Suddenly, as if someone had turned off a switch, Ren felt the strong arms drop from around him causing him to fall back into the chair he had just risen from a moment before. He watched in a daze as Con spoke of Ren sharing his bed if they both survived the battle the next day and then with one last kiss, Con was gone.
    Ren sat, a smile slowly curving his lips upward. Con had kissed him. Suddenly all those months of loneliness, of watching the other soldiers grow closer as he remained firmly fixed on the outside, never feeling a part of anything, all those months faded away. He belonged now…he had a place to stand. Not as the boy who always messed up, no longer the soldier who could do no better than muck out horseshit from stalls and fetch Lord Gael's riding crop, no, now he was truly one of them, and now Con had chosen him over all the others, him Renwyn Deloran, a boy who had begged for scraps all his life.
    Ren stood up, straightened his shirt and picked up the goblet that Con had held to toast him with earlier. He had something to be proud of now. He was going to be Constantine Aurelius' lover, his consort, and his friend. Friend. Ren closed his eyes and savored the word as if it were a fine wine. He had never had a real friend before, not even in childhood. When his parents were killed in the fire that had razed his house to the ground, he had been the only one left standing and no one had wanted him. He was different, outcast, shunned.
    From the time he could remember till now he had been bounced from one place to the next. Always living on the scraps and leftovers of others, never having a proper bed to call his. Ren had wandered alone, until several months ago, when he had seen the call go out for able-bodied men to serve in the army under Lord Gael's command. Ren had signed on and, because of his knowledge of horseflesh, been given the job of squire to the high commander himself.
    Thus began the daily torture of watching Constantine Aurelius from afar. The man embodied not only everything Ren aspired to be, but everything Ren sought to love. And now, it seemed, that love was to be returned. For a minute, Ren let himself dwell in the moment when Con had said that word, "Mine". He felt the thrill of that possession sweep through him and move straight down to his cock which began to rise and stir as though the very thought of Con controlled its response.
    Ren jumped as a laugh erupted behind him. Turning he saw Lord Gael standing just inside the tent. Quickly gathering his wits about him, he bowed and took a step backwards, giving Gael room to come further inside.
    "It's all right boy, don't let me keep you from your daydreams." Gael chuckled again and picked up the sword and scabbard that had been resting against the corner of the tent. "Con sent me back to fetch his sword. Good god, I wonder who the real commander is sometimes! Ah well, it's a good thing I like the bastard, isn't it boy? Of course not near as much as you, I suspect!"
    Gael paused and took in the flushed cheeks and reddened lips of the young man before him. Gael had seen these signs before. If he was right, this boy was on the cusp of imagining himself to be in love with Con. Gael wondered once again at his second