Pride of the Veld

The last thing he needed was to pull on his crusty shorts. Apparently they became indiscriminate in their cleanup at some point. He ran across the pair he’d worn yesterday and could barely bring himself to touch them long enough to stuff them into the deepest recess of the duffle.
    His next cleanest pair retrieved and donned, Geo tugged on his socks and looked around for his boots, eventually finding one wedged under their bed and the other in the opposite corner of the tent.
    He smirked, remembering the eagerness of both men as they stripped him, and exited the tent. Danie was crouching next to the fire, Geo’s French coffee press at his feet. Andrea hovered over him with his nose stuck in a bag of Geo’s favorite blend.
    “Oi!” Geo cried, trying his best to sound irritated. “Hands off the merchandise!”
    “Ah, caro…” Andrea purred, a brilliant smile on his face, “it’s too late. We’ve already handled the merchandise, and I think we’ll keep it.” He handed the coffee to Danie and crossed the distance between them, pulling him into a close embrace with a kiss as sweet as any he’d ever had.
    Breathless, he pulled back, only to find himself swung around into Danie’s strong arms. He enjoyed the moment, snuggled close with his head tucked under Danie’s chin.
    “Missed waking up with you,” Geo whispered into the man’s shirt. The hug tightened, and Geo knew Danie had heard him anyway.
    “Mmm, me too. We wanted to let you sleep and bring you breakfast in bed. I guess we weren’t that quiet sneaking out.”
    “Probably the giggling woke him,” Andrea laughed and poked Danie in the side. He kissed Geo’s hair before waving the pot of coffee under his nose. The perfume of dark French roast curled into Geo’s nose, and he began to salivate.
    “Oh, yeah, coffee. Gimme before you ruin it.” Geo made a grab for the pot, but Andrea held it out of reach.
    “What? I’m insulted by your insinuation that I would ruin coffee. I’m Italian! We have espresso in our veins!” His mock ire was ignored by Geo, who managed to rescue his pot in time to plunge it.
    “That might impress me if this was Italian roast. As it stands, unless you have a Frenchman in your pocket, you’re not much use to me. And frankly, if you do have a Frenchman in your pocket, it would explain a great deal about all the extra pairs of hands last night.”
    Danie burst out laughing at Andrea’s pout and passed tin cups over to Geo to fill. The beverage was dark and smoky, steaming hot. Geo loved it like this, though the metal lip tended to give a little kiss of pain with the first sip.
    Andrea pulled up another campstool to sit next to Geo. “Seriously, caro. How are you feeling this morning? I’m worried we tore something last night.” Geo could feel the heat rush into his face. Shit.
    “No, I feel okay. Sore, but no pain.” He buried his face into the cup to avoid discussing his anatomy further with this beautiful man. Instead, he occupied himself by staring at Danie as he worked an iron skillet set over coals from their overnight fire. They used an old camp stove grill, balancing it on rocks to hover six inches or so above the coals. Danie had found their supply of potatoes and onions, and the smell of them frying along with the unmistakable fragrance of bacon and biscuits toasting made Geo’s stomach gurgle loud enough for Danie to turn, casting Geo such a look of affection that his breath stilled in his chest.
    The early morning sun danced across the gold in the man’s tousled hair. Danie didn’t bother to do more than run his fingers through his short hair before rolling out of bed. Usually Geo would track him down later, running his own brush through it as he sat and drank coffee. This morning he had no idea where he’d even find his brush. The tent was a disaster, with half their things packed haphazardly in random tubs or bags. Geo hoped they wouldn’t need anything in a hurry, because he had no idea where to begin.
    Three plates of food appeared, balanced in Danie’s large hands, and Geo wiped drool from the corner of his mouth, hoping no one had seen him. He loved when Danie cooked for him. Danie handed out the plates, pulling a bottle of red pepper sauce from the side packet of his cargo shorts and passing it over to Geo.
    Andrea raised his brow in disbelief, choking as Geo proceeded to shake it over every inch of food on his plate. He scooped the mixture between the biscuit halves and started