Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

legs and fingering the other man's entrance delicately.
    Kent increased the pace, fisting himself so hard that it was almost painful. He hadn't done this for a while, and he panted, short of breath already.
    Kent entered Seth slowly at first, eventually burying himself as far as he could. Seth writhed underneath him. He began to thrust gently, and Seth moved in unison.
    "Harder, Kent, please!" Kent obeyed, thrusting himself to the hilt every time into Seth's tight opening, and the man underneath him moaned loudly as Kent wrapped his hand around his erection, pumping him in time—
    Kent threw back his head and groaned, viscous liquid shooting into the water. He sagged against the cave wall as he came down from his orgasm, catching his breath. He closed his eyes, temporarily immobile.
    The guilt came upon him as the pleasure left. If Seth knew what he was doing… Kent didn't even want to think about that. He was clean, but he suddenly felt unimaginably dirty.
    On somewhat shaky legs, Kent got out of the water and grabbed his clothes, walking to the other end of the cave to wash them. He frowned as he dipped his clothes into the water, wondering why he had let himself give into his urges. It was disgusting, weak, and against the knight's code.
    ****
    His clothes clean and his lust extinguished for now, he walked back to camp. He couldn't face Seth at the moment. He was a knight; he had to act like one.
    He put on his armor, the burnished copper plate glinting in the midday sun. The armor was worn from long use and didn't look as nice as the dress armor he had worn in the joust when he first became a knight, but it was also far lighter and had saved him more than once. He forwent his helmet, heading out into the fields by the camp, sword in hand. He would give his horse a rest today, but he did not relish inactivity.
    Breathing slow and deep, he moved through the exercises he had learned as a squire, his sword glinting in the sun. Practice always distracted him from unwanted thoughts. By the hundredth set of swings, sweat dripped down his neck, but he somehow felt cleaner than he had before.
    "Kent?"
    Kent stopped mid-swing, regarding Seth as expressionlessly as he could. "Yes?"
    "Always so serious." Seth smiled, his brown hair, still wet from the lake, shining in the sun. He wore half of his armor, the chain mail shirt and leg braces. "C'mon, if you're just going to get sweaty again, why not practice with me?" Seth tossed him a practice sword.
    "Fair enough." Kent squared off immediately, sheathing his metal sword and holding the wooden one at the ready.
    The two men launched into a sparring match, the only sound their heavy breathing and the clacking of wood. As much as he loved Seth's personality and physical beauty, Kent relished the time they practiced together.
    Seth moved with lithe grace, like a dancer. So many knights focused on mounted combat or simple bashing with their blades, but not Seth. His sword whirled and twisted in his hands, seeking out weak points, and Kent was hard pressed to keep up.
    His heart began to race, keeping his gaze focused on Seth's body rather than the sword. He knew Seth's movements, even out of combat— the tension in the muscled thighs that he had memorized, the sound of his quick panting breath as he swung the sword, even the miniscule shifting of his weight when he tried for a harder blow. In his dreams, he knew those movements would be transformed into a very different kind of dance.
    Some of the enlisted men began to watch them, and even other knights joined the crowd of spectators. "Get him, Seth!" one called, and "His hand, his hand!"
    The cries did little. The two men continued sparring, their sweat dripping onto the ground beneath them, Kent's hand numbed with the repeated parries and strokes. If he couldn't have Seth the way he wanted… this was a fitting substitute.
    "Beautiful, Kent," Seth laughed, retreating with a quick series of steps before lunging like a duelist. Kent disdainfully parried the strike, his heart flipping at Seth's words. "You truly are the best partner."
    "You as well," he managed to say, stepping closer and trying to get inside Seth's guard as the other man pulled back from the lunge. He brought his sword behind Seth's head but aborted the swing at the last moment. Seth parried, his arm twisting around Kent's, pulling him close. Kent's heart pounded so loud he was sure Seth would hear it, and blood heated his face as he stared into Seth's shining