Then, my thanks to the divine Ms. M and the Puff for beta-ing. They do a dynamite job. Any mistakes remaining are mine.

My extra thanks to Kel and Marilyn for their research on tribes and Arizona.

The dream is just there to enhance the story plot and is more a compilation of many different creation stories than an authentic legend.

All characters contained in this story belong to me.

Little Rain
February 14, 1999

~~~

'At the start of the universe, the Great Spirit took the dark in one hand and the light in the other, bringing them together to form the land and the air. Not satisfied, the Great Spirit also forged from the land and the air - water.

For a time it was well. The night shared the passage of time with the day, and the air rested upon the land and the water flowed throughout it all.

The Great Spirit watched as the land and the water brought forth plants to enrich places, and animals to roam unfettered upon the land, and the land and sky brought forth all the animals of the sky and air to soar freely among the heavens.

But the Great Spirit wanted more. So, she created a being and allowed him to roam unconstrained and have dominion over all she had assembled.

Days passed. The Great Spirit looked for her being only to find he had wandered from the rich plain she had made for him and stood in the middle of the desert area she had not touched.

"Why are you here, my child?" she asked.

Man knelt down, sinking his fingers deep into the land and said, "I am grateful to you, Great Spirit, for all the things you have given me, but I am lonely."

"Lonely, my child?" the Great Spirit said in disbelief. "But I have given you all the animals of the land and sky."

And the man pushed his toes deep into the land and replied, "Yes, Great Spirit, and I am grateful to you, they are fine animals, every one, but there is no other here like me. No one I can talk to, be with," he said sadly.

"Would you have me make the creatures of the land speak? Then you would have someone to talk to."

The man thought upon this and said, "No, Great Spirit. They are happy as they are, I would not change them."

"Would you have me make the creatures of the air speak? Then you would have someone to talk to."

The man then lay down with his face upon the Great Spirit. "No, Great Spirit. They are happy as they are, I would not change them."

"Then what would you have me do, my child? I cannot bear your sadness."

"I do not know, Great Spirit," the man said, his heart deeply troubled, and his tears slid from his eyes to fall upon the ground.

~~

A tone sounded shrilly in the darkness. The sleeper turned in his bed as the dream evaporated with the fog of sleep. He reached over and picked up the phone from the nightstand. "Yeah?"

"I need a favor," the caller said without preamble.

The dreamer shifted in the bed to settle in a more comfortable position. He asked, "What?"

"It involves company at your hide-a-way."

The dreamer closed his eyes, taking several slow, calming breaths. "I don't do convivial."

"This isn't exactly social."

"Dangerous?"

"Not to you. More like, averse. I'm sending a complete Intel packet."

"Prisoner?"

"That's entirely up to you."

Losing patience with the verbal game of cat and mouse, the dreamer asked, "Who is it, Viper?"

"Someone just needs a little. . .change of scenery. A steadying influence."

"And that would be me?" he asked cynically.

"Yes." After a pause, Viper asked impatiently, "Are you going to do this for me, or not?"

Silence stretched for seconds, then the question, "How long?"

Now the speaker paused. "Six weeks."

The respondent snorted derisively. "Not even for you. One."

"Four, Damien."

This time the pause stretched into an uncomfortable silence. "Two."

"Done," Viper agreed immediately.

Clutch snorted again. "You will owe me for this."

"Yes."

"ETA?" he asked, swinging himself into a sitting position.

"Expect an Estate bird around 0700."

~~~

Sixty miles outside of Tucson, the Tohono O'odham reservation was one of the largest and most profitable in the state. The 2.8 million acre reservation forms the western boundary of this small but highly scenic wilderness area.

The recorded history of the tribe proclaimed them as a proud people. Withstanding both the Spanish and the white conquerors, they still held this land as their own. Those who have traveled through Southwestern Arizona have marveled at the distinctive feature of Baboquivari Peak in the mountain range bearing its name since this dominant landmark can be spotted from dozens of miles away. It is the only major summit in Arizona to require technical climbing skills, easier to reach by helicopter. Not surprisingly the distinctive peak figures prominently in the beliefs of the Tohono O'odham Indians who have lived in the area for centuries.

That heritage, coupled with tremendous personal pride made Damien Silver Fox seem rigid. Those who knew him (family and a few close friends) knew that to be a false image. Wise and emotionally weathered beyond his thirty-six years - more than ten years of working for the Estate would do that to any man - Silver Fox had a great heart. A heart that had been wounded and not healed. Here on his father's land high in the Baboquivari Mountains, he had created a retreat. It began as a simple lean-to, but, over the years, he had slowly built it into a sturdy, split-level log cabin home. In it, Silver Fox managed to find a healing ground on which to refresh his weary body and rebuild his soul, if not heal his heart. The time here was essential and precious. Viper knew this and yet he had intruded with a personal request.

Besides Clutch's skills as a demolitions expert, he excelled in camouflage and covert action. As a youth, his grandfather and father had taught him the art for the purpose of hunting game animals. It's just that most of the animals he hunted now were of the two-legged variety. For that reason, Damien found himself armed with his trusty crossbow and hidden in the tall grass along the edge of the forest glade while listening for the helicopter's approach. Although his team leader Viper had instructed him to expect it, Silver Fox remained hidden as it landed. He fully intended to triple his thirty-six years.

As the helicopter blades slowly stopped, the man in Rayban's and dark trenchcoat over a navy-blue suit stepped out onto the runner and down into the thigh-high grass. It was Jonathan Usher, code named Cook. Clutch thought to himself, 'This must be some heavy hitter for Viper to call in a favor from both Brown and me.'

Cook walked through the grass about twenty yards before coming to a halt and shouting, "Show yourself, Clutch! I don't have time for hide and seek. I need to get back."

"Pipe down, mouse. I'm right here," came Clutch's reply. He stood up not three feet in front of Cook.

"Shit, man!" The younger man jumped in fright and stumbled back, nearly losing his balance and landing in the grass. "Give a guy a clue, will you?!"

Damien just glared at him, and said calmly, "My front yard, mouse. And you're here uninvited, be glad all I did was scare you."

"Like I had a choice," the smaller man groused as he took out his handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.

"In the dog house with Brown?" Damien asked in a hushed tone as he took a step back, resting the crossbow on his hip.

The younger man stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. "I am so in the dog house I don't want to think about it."

Damien's lips turned up in a tiny smile at the young agent's discomfiture. "Viper said you'd have paperwork for me."

"That and a body." Turning, Cook gestured at the bird. "His name's Gideon," he said, turning back to Silver Fox.

"Gideon?" Clutch looked up just as the object of their discussion stepped slowly down into the high grass, came halfway towards them, then stopped. "Isn't that C.D.'s friend?"

Cook nodded as he withdrew a large manila envelope from his breast pocket.

Silver Fox tried to remember anything anyone had said about this young man. He knew Viper didn't exactly approve of the friendship or the person, for that matter. "Why is he here?"

Cook shrugged. "Don't know. All I know is it has something to do with the car jacking of Justin's Jag two days ago."

"He wasn't involved, was he?" Damien asked.

"Don't think so," the young agent answered. "I'm only the mule."

"They catch them?"

Cook nodded. "Viper, Hoss and Stealth found the Jag, and the thieves."

The older man motioned towards the stationary figure in the tall grass. "What part did he have in all this?"

Cook shrugged again. "Don't know, but Viper was really mad. He and Hoss had him in the green room."

Damien snorted derisively. The green room wasn't as bad as the grey room, and neither was as bad as the white one.

"Hey! Viper must think he has some redeeming qualities. Instead of doing something permanent, he sent him here." Cook pointed to the envelope in Clutch's hand. "The file has a list. Viper said everything you'd need is in the bag." Jonathan waved at Gideon again. The young man came to stand next to them.

From his body language, Silver Fox could tell the kid was scared out of his wits.

"I'm no babysitter," Clutch said, deliberately provoking the young man.

Gideon blushed, but kept his eyes to the ground.

"Viper said, consider it an early Christmas gift for Justin, whatever that means." Cook started back towards the bird.

Gideon shifted the dufflebag he held in both hands.

It was difficult to see his face, since he'd kept his head down during the exchange, but Clutch could tell Gideon had the same youthful demeanor as C.D. that belied their age. The blond curls that fell over his eyes and neck didn't help. No doubt he wore the goatee to counteract the effect. What it did was make him look even more like a child playing dress up.

"Look at me so I can talk to you," Damien snapped tersely.

"I. . .I'm sorry," Gideon answered as he stood straighter and looked up into the deepest, darkest brown eyes he had ever seen.

Tall, though not as tall as Justin's Paddy, and not nearly as big as the mammoth he'd met in the mysterious room, this man was big enough. Bigger than Gideon, but that didn't take much, since he only topped Justin by a half inch or so. This man towered over him, making him feel small and very vulnerable.

Jet-black hair fell down between his shoulderblades in a tight braid and the skin that stretched tightly across high, sharp cheekbones was burned a golden-brown. He wore no shirt, just a soft-skin, waist-length vest, a pair of faded jeans and black hiking boots on his feet.

Caught between apprehension and arousal, fear and attraction, Gideon just stared at the image of every great Indian chief that ever graced the North American prairie, and mentally drooled.

Damien, caught up in the same electricity of arousal, recovered his composure a second before Cook turned to bid his farewells.

"Oh. Viper said to tell you, his classification is I.P. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Indiscriminate player," Damien said off-handedly.

The younger man frowned, not understanding the phrase, but in a hurry to leave. "Right. I'll be back in two weeks to pick him up."

Clutch just nodded.

'By the Great Spirit, Viper, you do know how to tempt a man,' Damien thought as he reined in his runaway emotions. Aloud, he said, "Get moving. We have a ways to go, and I don't like to stay in the open long."

"Yes, sir," came Gideon's soft reply as he followed Silver Fox like a puppy, struggling to match his steps to Clutch's long strides.

~~~

Once inside the cabin, Silver Fox motioned to a corner. "Put that down over there," he said impatiently.

He watched as the young man slowly made his way over to the designated place and put the bag down.

Clutch settled on the couch, opened the envelope and began reading the contents.

Ten minutes later, he glanced up to find Gideon standing in the same place.

"Sit," Clutch ordered.

The young man colored brightly. Hesitating a moment, he took hesitant steps until he reached a large chair by the fireplace.

Damien watched as Gideon lowered himself gingerly onto the heavily padded seat. Wincing with a soft, 'Sssssst', he rolled to one hip.

Damien went back to reading.

He was interrupted by the loud grumbling of Kuschel's stomach.

Clutch looked up to find Gideon's head down, the younger man picking intently at the frayed right knee of the jeans he wore.

"When did you eat last?"

"Yesterday," the younger man said softly, not looking up. "I think. They asked me, but I haven't been very hungry."

Damien put the papers aside and rose to his feet. "Come on, then. We'll see what I have in the kitchen. I wasn't expecting company."

Walking closely behind Silver Fox, Gideon followed him into another room. The kitchen was a visual cornucopia of colors and patterns. Beiges, browns, yellows and red-tones from the desert, colorful pottery and grass mats from the crafters of his tribe. Large, intricate weavings hung from the walls.

The table was a sturdy butcher block of thick wood, with four chairs to match.

"Sit," the older man ordered again.

This time, Gideon hesitated, looking at the hard wooden seats of the chairs in dismay. He turned his eyes on his host, pleading silently for sympathy.

"Didn't you hear?"

"Yes," he said in a small voice.

"And. . ."

"Hard seats on the plane. Justin's SO made me sit on hard seats in that room." He paused. "Sitting isn't really comfortable right now."

Clutch looked skeptical. "You sure that's all it is?"

Gideon blinked. "All?"

"I know Viper. If he thought you had something to do with hurting C.D., there'd be hell to pay."

The young man watched his host for a long time. Suddenly, a single tear trailed down his face. "I didn't mean for him to get hurt," he said softly.

Damien only watched him.

"The Chief Aide wouldn't believe me."

"Choate is very protective of his China Doll."

"The man mountain didn't believe me, either."

"That would be Hoss. He's very protective of China Doll, too."

"You all call him that. It fits him, you know." Gideon looked at his host. "Are you protective, too?"

"Yes."

"Is that why I'm here?" Kuschel paused.

"Why do you think you're here?"

Gideon shrugged. "The Chief Aide was royally P.O.d when he found out I had something to do with Justin's car getting stolen."

"Do you blame him?"

"I guess not. He said the only thing that saved me was I didn't abandon Justin when he got hurt." Gideon looked like a little, lost child. "Nick promised no one would get hurt."

"And you believed him?"

He nodded. "Pretty stupid, huh?"

"I'm sure it wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done."

"The Chief Aide made me snitch."

"It wasn't snitching."

"He promised Nick wouldn't bother either of us again."

"That's a promise you can count on."

Kuschel grew quiet. "He brought out a board this big," he said, holding his hands apart to demonstrate. "And he whacked me with it once. Hard." Gideon covered his backside with both hands. "I thought I was going to die."

"Only once? You got off lucky."

"I came apart like a little bitch. I almost made a mess on the floor." Gideon made a disgusted noise. "I blubbered like a baby and begged like a coward and promised him anything if he just didn't hit me again."

"So he sent you to me?"

"It was that or more of that board. And I would've done anything not to get more of that board." Gideon rubbed his bottom absently, then blinked again. "It was. . .it was a chicken-shit thing for me to do," he hissed.

"What was?"

Gideon frowned and another tear trailed down his face. "Turning on my best friend."

The closed look that had crept onto Damien's face slid away. "Then why do it?"

Gideon blushed a dark red. "Jealousy," he finally confessed, reluctantly.

"Jealous? Of what?"

"Of everything. Of his talent, of his beauty. . .of his life."

"And you wanted it," he said, more a statement than a question.

Gideon nodded. "It still was a chicken-shit thing to do."

"Yes, it was," Damien told him as he grabbed a pillow from one of the chairs by the wall and placed it on Gideon's seat. "Now, sit."

~~

Fifteen minutes later, an uncomfortable Gideon tried not to fidget in his seat as Damien cut the sandwiches into wedges and pulled hot bowls of a thick vegetable soup from the microwave. He set the plate of sandwiches on the table and the bowl of soup in front of Kuschel and turned to get the pitcher of tea and glasses.

Clutch turned back to the table just in time to see his young guest almost dive headfirst into the steaming soup.

"Hungry?" Damien asked as he sat down to his own bowl.

The young man froze, appalled at his lack of manners, and lowered his spoon to the table. "I--"

His host shook his head, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Enough talk. Eat," he ordered, taking a sandwich from the plate.

Gideon mirrored this move and bit heartily into the sandwich in his hand. "Mmm," he mumbled around a full mouth.

"You're just hungry," Damien said, easily rejecting the praise.

"No." Kuschel chewed and swallowed, washing it down with a drink of tea. "This is good." He took another spoonful of soup. "And this. . .this tastes homemade. You have a wife?" the young man asked tentatively.

Silver Fox laughed as he shook his head. "It's a new era. We men can also master the kitchen."

"YOU made this?" the young man asked, astonished at the news.

Silver Fox frowned in embarrassment. "Eat," he said gruffly, "my soup grows cold."

Confused by the sharp response, Gideon returned his attention to the food in front of him, quickly finishing it.

Damien looked up, feeling eyes upon him. "What?"

"Can I have more?" Gideon asked shyly.

"I don't plan to starve you," Silver Fox told him as he reached over and took the empty bowl. "You eat until you're full."

The young man attacked the second bowl with the same relish as the first.

But before he could finish his helping, the weary young man was falling asleep at the table.

"Kuschel!"

The deep voice caused the young man to jerk upright before he could fall face-first into the half-finished bowl of soup.

"Shower. Then bed."

Damien led him up the wood plank stair embedded in the stucco walls to the small, neat, efficient bathroom. "Take your clothes off and put them there." He indicated the hamper. "Come on! We don't have all night."

Slowly, and self-consciously, Gideon pulled his clothing from his body, piece-by piece, until he stood naked in front of the larger man, rosy red from a full-body blush.

"What are you waiting for?" Damien snapped as he handed the young man a sponge.

Kuschel took it and stepped inside the sliding glass doors.

The younger man turned, granting Clutch a full view of the high, rounded rear. . .one dark red bruise across both cheeks only seemed to accentuate the lushness of the vision before him.

"I'll go fix a place for you to sleep," he said, his voice rough with anger at his lapse of control. "Hurry."

Gideon blinked, wondering what he'd done this time, but closed the doors behind him and turned on the water.

~~

Standing in his bedroom, Silver Fox stared down at the narrow cot he had placed by his bed. He had fastened a thick metal shackle by one end to one of the four heavy wooden legs. Idly, he fingered the unlatched cuff as he worked to control the hormones that seemed determined to run riot throughout his blood stream at thoughts of the handsome young man naked in his shower.

The big man had almost gotten his gonads under control, when. . .

"I'm finished," came a hesitant voice from behind him.

He turned. Gideon stood in the doorway wear a pair of forest green silk boxers and they were off at full throttle again.

The younger man eyed the shackle a moment before walking silently over to the bed. He stood and waited.

Clutch's gaze swung from the steel cuff in his hand, to the young man standing so still before him.

Angrily, Silver Fox reached down and lifted the foot of the bed, snatching the shackle free. "Promise me you won't run away," he growled, shaking the chains in the young man's face.

Gideon took a half-step backwards. "We're in the middle of nowhere--"

"Promise, and I won't use these." He shook the chains again.

Dark eyes stared deeply into darker ones, both seeking secrets buried there.

"I promise," Gideon said at last.

"Good." Silver Fox took the chains and walked over to a trunk. Opening it, he laid them inside and closed the lid. "Lie down on your stomach," he ordered softly as he pointed to the designated place.

Gideon lay upon the narrow cot and waited, cold and icy fear stiffening his spine.

Soon, the young man felt the cot give as Silver Fox sat down and tugged the boxers down to the curve of his bottom.

"Choate really put his arm into this one," he said softly.

"He never liked me," Gideon said, his voice cracking. "What I did didn't help," he laughed humorlessly. "Now I know some of those times when Justin couldn't sit comfortably weren't because of the reason I thought."

Damien only grunted in reply.

Gideon heard what sounded like the lid of a jar being unscrewed.

"Open your legs."

The younger man obeyed quickly, gripping the sides of the cot tightly with both hands waiting for the worst. Instead, something cool touched the bruise on his backside, causing him to jump.

"Lie still," Damien ordered hoarsely, as he spread the clear green gel across the rounded bottom with his fingers.

Immediately, the sting began to dull, replaced by the soothing touch from the agent's fingers. Gideon sighed happily, it felt so good. Unconsciously, he spread his legs wider, revealing the ripe raspberry pucker nestled between the twin mounds of his ass. Damien watched, mesmerized as it opened and closed for him a few times as Gideon rocked in time to the strokes from his fingers.

Then, the movement began to slow as sleep gradually claimed the younger man. Damien stopped, taking a very deep, calming breath and resisting the urge to kiss the hurt away.

~~~

An hour later, planted in front of the fire in his oversized leather chair, the young agent read the file Viper sent. The enclosed letter read,

Damien -

I know how much your solitude means to you. Except my apology. I owe you for this. The others are all out on assignment or I wouldn't have intruded with my problems.

I'd do it myself, but Justin needs me here right now. I'm all that's standing between him and monsters he can't see. Monsters I don't want him to see.

Justin has faith in Gideon I don't understand, but I'll try to give him a chance. That chance is you. He doesn't have a sense of direction or discipline. Like Justin, he was ignored by his parents and raised by staff or boarding schools. Too much time and money without a purpose or plan. He has a useless degree and has never held a real job. He says he's given up the gambling, and the worst of the drugs, so maybe there is hope for him yet.

He's terrified of corporal. Sadie sent him into a blind panic.

He has a fresh mouth, but is easily intimidated.

He's more of a lost, lonely little boy than a real criminal.

Call if you need anything. Two weeks should do it, if it's even possible.

Thanks again,

Viper

P.S. FYI, he's an indiscriminate player, but swings more left than right.

****

"Why do I feel like I have a target on my back, Viper?" Clutch said as he folded the papers and put them away.

~~~

A tidal wave of loneliness, deep enough to drown in, swept over him. Heavy enough to suffocate. Thick enough to shut out all light from the sun. The world seemed dark and cold and . . .empty. The desert stretched out for as far as he could see. Nothing but a vast sea of sand - stark, barren, vacuous. Like a grave. No!!!

"No! Don't hurt me! Wake up! You're having a nightmare, man! Please!"

Damien opened his eyes to find one of his hands wrapped around Kuschel's neck, the other curved like talons ready to strike.

The younger man's eyes wide with fear. The agent released him immediately.

"What are you doing in my bed?" he growled angrily as he pushed sweat-dampened hair from his face.

Gideon rose up shakily, rubbing at the red marks on his neck. "You made a sound like you were in pain, man. I got up to see--"

"I could've killed you!"

"I'm sorry. You sounded like you were in pain," he repeated helplessly. "I. . .I thought I was helping." The last word sounded like a sob as the young man crawled back over the large bed to his cot.

Damien settled back down on the bed and listened to the sad sounds his 'guest' tried to cover with the sheets.

"Come here," he ordered, after listening to the muffled weeping for as long as he could stand it.

"I'm sorry! I'll try to be quiet--"

"Do I have to come get you myself?"

Slowly, Gideon sat up, wiping at his red splotched face with his hand. He studied his host for the length of several heartbeats before beginning his crawl back up the bed. Kuschel stopped an arm's length away. Sitting back on his haunches, he waited, fully expecting retribution.

He cringed when the huge hand reached out, but Damien only snagged him by the back of the neck and pulled him down. Turning him on his side, the big man spooned up behind the smaller body.

"This way, I know where you are." 'Liar!' his mind screamed at him. 'You want an excuse to touch him.' "Go to sleep."

~~

That softly spoken command seemed to banish all thoughts of sleep from poor Gideon's mind. He balanced on the razor edge of physical torture for the rest of the night, while Silver Fox obviously slept the sleep of the dead.

The arm resting across Kuschel's waist was hot and heavy and. . .did he mention hot? Gideon sighed. Hot. Hot, like the length of heavily muscled man stretched out against his back. Hard, like tempered steel.

The man of steel.

Unbidden, the image of Silver Fox in a pair of blue Lycra tights and matching shirt, red briefs doing nothing to hide a basket so full. . .Gideon sucked in a harsh breath and whispered Justin's favorite phrase, "Shit! Damn! Hell!" as his own basket began to fill. . .

Damien stirred, his face nuzzling at Gideon's neck. The young man moaned as the hot, moist exhalation of breath caused him to shiver. Turning slightly, trying to get out of the maddening grip, only to find himself shifted and pulled back, once again fitted snugly up against hard muscles, hot skin, this time a telltale bulge pressed intimately against him.

Oh man! He was going to die it felt so good. Good, and he didn't dare do anything about it. But he wanted to. Sweet, hot fuck-in-the-ass! He wanted to.

Damien shifted his hips and the bulge pressed harder against his dark valley.

Oh man, he thought, helplessly, I'm going to be rock hard all night.' Groaning as if in pain, the young man curled forward. 'Just kill me now.'

~~

Damien opened his eyes to the sun streaming through the bedroom's open window, feeling more relaxed and refreshed than he had in weeks.

Raising his hands above his head, he stretched, luxuriating in the feel of each vertebra as it popped, each muscle as it burned. . .

Released from the confinement of the steely arms around him, Gideon bounded from the bed like it burned.

Silver Fox didn't miss the bulge of erection that showed through the young man's shorts, just before he covered it with his hand and raced for the door.

Interesting, the older man thought with a smirk.

Ten minutes later, Silver Fox knocked on the bathroom door and shouted over the running water. "Save some for me! Breakfast in fifteen minutes."

Listening carefully, he smiled to himself when keen ears picked up the rhythmic thumping, muffled, but unmistakable, followed by stillness, then a soft gasp and a sigh.

Yes, very interesting.

~~

Gideon came down dressed in an abbreviated pair of khaki shorts, athletic shoes with ankle-length socks, and a sky-blue T-shirt.

Clutch shook his head. "Don't you have any long pants?"

Gideon looked up at his host as he sat at the table. "No."

"No shirts with long sleeves, either?"

"Not with me."

This child was going to fry like a fritter. Anything Damien could lend him would hang like a drape and defeat its purpose. "Here." He pushed the bowl of oatmeal in front of the younger man, adding a glass of juice and a plate of crisp bacon. "I'm going to take a shower."

Gideon made a face. "Oatmeal? I haven't had oatmeal since I was a kid," he groused, but picked up the spoon anyway.

Silver Fox stopped midway up the stairs. "If you eat it all, there's a surprise at the bottom." He smiled at the look he got and continued up the stairs.

Gideon waited until he heard the bathroom door close before scraping the oatmeal to the side making a deep furrow. At the bottom of the bowl were three warm, moist whole dates nestled like jewels.

"Like I'm a little kid," he groused as he scooped up the dates in three spoonfuls of cereal, greedily shoveling each into his mouth.

~~

When Silver Fox came back down the stairs, Kuschel stood at the sink, washing his dishes. Clutch's own breakfast sat warming on the stove.

Without a word, the older man picked up his bowl, lowered himself down into the seat, and began to eat.

After he finished, he stood, placing his dishes in the sink. "I have to check my traps in a couple of days. I thought we'd stay close to home for now. Maybe do a little cleaning. Work on my truck."

Gideon made a disgusted face. "Cleaning?"

The older man nodded. "Since you've started in here, when you finish the dishes, wipe off the table and sweep the floor. I'll pull the sheets and we'll do laundry."

The disgusted look on his face intensified. "Laundry?"

"Hurry up," he called over his shoulder as he bounded back up the stairs.

So for the next four hours Gideon swept and mopped floors. When he finished that, Damien led the younger man to the small utility room next to the kitchen and had him wash sheets, which they then hung outside on a line to dry. The clothes they put in the dryer.

Lunch was another bowl of soup and another sandwich eaten leisurely but in silence, then they started cleaning the upstairs. By the time the sun had set, Gideon was too tired to attempt dinner. He crawled onto his little cot, drifting right to sleep.

"Kuschel. Wrong bed," the agent told him softly.

Gideon woke only long enough for Damien to pull him from the cot and place him in his own bed.

"'Nite," the smaller man muttered as Silver Fox pulled the covers over his body.

Damien shook his head, fighting the smile that threatened.

Turning off the light, he left the door ajar as he stepped from the room.

~~

It seemed to Gideon that the second after his head hit the pillow, Damien was in his ear whispering, "Rise and shine."

Gideon groaned as he turned his back. "Five more minutes, please."

"No breakfast, then."

"'kay," Gideon murmured.

"I won't feed you 'til lunch," he threatened.

"'s'all right."

Damien watched the younger man settle back into sleep. Shaking his head, he walked back downstairs, stopping only long enough to put a plate of buttered toast by the bowl of fruit on the counter. Thinking a moment, Clutch took a piece of paper and scrawled a hasty, "Eat!" He propped the note up against the food and continued outside.

By ten o'clock, the agent was about ready to go back in and drag the lazy young man from the bed, when he heard footsteps behind him. Looking up from beneath the hood of the battered old pickup, he saw Gideon standing by the back door munching on the last bit of a large, ripe apple.

"'bout time you got up. Hand me that wrench, would you?"

Gideon wrapped the apple core in a napkin and dropped it in the garbage bin. "Wrench?" he asked in a confused tone as he came over to stand beside the truck.

"It's right there in the tool box."

And so the rest of the morning went with, 'Hand me. . ." "Run get the. . ." and "Hold this. . ." Until finally the older man stood, wiping his hands on a cloth.

"Are we done?" Gideon asked pitifully.

Damien climbed inside and started the engine. It turned over on the first try and purred like a kitten. "We're done," he said, switching the engine off.

"Can I go now?" the younger man said hopefully.

"Nope. We have to clean up our mess."

"Can't we do it tomorrow?" he asked with a heavy exhalation of breath.

"No."

Gideon almost yielded to the urge to stomp his foot. The look in Damien's eyes stopped him cold. Slumping his shoulders in defeat, the young man began to pick up tools scattered haphazardly on the ground.

It took three hours to clean up the car port to the tyrant's satisfaction.

Gideon was almost in tears he'd never worked so hard in his life. "Can I go now?" he whined.

"No," Damien told him as he closed the top of the tool chest.

"But I'm hungry," he told Damien, holding his arms out wide, "and I've got grease all over me and I'm tired and I ache all over--"

"And you need to work on your tone," the agent interrupted reproachfully.

Gideon's mouth closed with an almost audible snap and he hung his head in defeat.

Damien had to smile at the poor, pathetic creature, obviously exhausted and very uncomfortable. "Come on," he told the young man and walked across the yard and over a hill. On the other side was a sliding glass door embedded into the ground. Opening the door, he stepped inside.

Reluctantly, Gideon followed.

It was hot and humid inside. When Damien slid the door closed behind them, the air also became heavy.

"Where are we?"

"My sauna. Take off those clothes."

As he moved to obey, Gideon heard the rustle of clothing as Damien stripped also. A light flared as the older man lit a lantern, illuminating the room in a soft glow.

"Lie down here." He indicated a padded bench.

Gideon knew a moment of anxious anticipation as he lay face down his bottom tingling in remembrance of the previous evening. After several moments, he felt Damien spread something thick and cool on his back and arms, kneading the muscles along the way.

Even though it wasn't the touch he had hoped for, the younger man moaned with pleasure.

"Feel good?"

"Yessss," he sighed as tight muscles relaxed under the firm hands.

Damien smiled again as he smoothed the oil over the hard muscles, his hand coaxing them to softness again.

Gideon squeaked in surprise as he felt the same hands smooth oil over his bottom. Damien's hands were gentler there, skimming over the fading bruise, then increased in strength again at the back of his thighs. By the time he'd reached the soles of the younger man's feet, Gideon had filled the seam of the bench with his cum.

When he had the young man's skin glistening with the oil, the agent picked up a tool carved from a piece of bone and began scraping the oil away. With it came dirt and grease and dead skin.

Twenty minutes later, the agent finished, he nudged a nearly asleep Gideon and told him to turn over. Following the same procedure with the front of the young man, the agent politely ignored the trail of semen that threaded from the surface of the bench to his now flaccid organ and the deep tint of embarrassment that colored Kuschel's skin.

Almost an hour later, tickling the soles of Gideon's feet, he asked, "Do you think you could do the same for me?"

Mutely, the young man nodded. Taking the pot of thick oil from the agent, he vacated the table so that Damien could take his place, grabbing a towel from a nearby table to wipe the moisture staining the surface away.

Damien lay facedown, resting his head on his folded arms, and waited for Gideon to start.

Gideon, on the other hand, stood frozen by the sight of the tightest, most desirable ass he had seen in more years than he cared to count. The young man swallowed the excess moisture that filled his mouth.

"Come on, Kuschel. I'm starving," he said impatiently.

Shaky fingers dipped into the pot of oil, applying it almost reverently to the bronzed skin of the agent.

Despite the lack of power behind the touch, Damien found himself relaxing, jumping involuntarily when Gideon touched his behind. And more that a little hard by the time the younger man reached the soles of his feet.

Luckily, he had gotten himself under control by the time he had to turn over, so Gideon was no more the wiser. With a vague of disappointment, the younger man quickly finished.

Damien rose to his feet, touching a button on the wall, the floor slid away to reveal a Jacuzzi.

"Climb in while I go fix us a snack," Damien told him as he turned on the jets.

By the time he returned, Gideon was boneless and nearly asleep.

Damien laid the tray aside. "Come on, Kuschel." He tugged the younger man from the water. "Time for bed."

"Not sleepy," Gideon murmured petulantly as he followed the pull on his arm, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his free hand.

"I know," Damien soothed smiling. "Why don't you just lie down for a little while, then? Rest your eyes." He wrapped a bath sheet around the thin shoulders and began to lead the half-asleep young man back to the house. After the third time Gideon stumbled and nearly fell, Damien cursed softly and swept the smaller man up in his arms.

"'Can walk!" he protested weakly even as he buried his face in the warm hollow between Damien's neck and shoulder.

"About as well as my godson, and he isn't two," Damien muttered as he settled the weight more securely in his arms.

Once in the bedroom, Damien stopped at the door, placing Gideon on his feet, and watched as he blindly shuffled over to the big bed and climbed underneath the covers.

'I don't know how much more of this I can endure, Great Spirit without taking him,' the agent murmured to himself before going back out to clean up the sauna and turn off the lights.

~~

Early the next morning, Damien dragged a dazed charge from a warm bed. After a quick shower to wake him, and a hasty breakfast, Gideon found himself stuffed into the cab of a pickup truck, heading to the base of the mountain.

Getting out of the truck first, Damien shouted back over his shoulder, "Let's go!"

"Go where?" Gideon asked as he followed cautiously.

"Up there," pointing up the vague trail. "Here, cover your face."

As soon as he'd obeyed, Gideon felt a cool mist over all his exposed skin.

"Let's go," Damien repeated.

"What was that?" he asked, removing his hands from his face.

"Insect repellent." Damien took Kuschel's hands and sprayed more into them. "With your luck they'd eat you alive."

"What are we doing?" Gideon asked, spreading the repellent on his face.

"Checking traps, and there're some plants I want to gather."

The first three traps they came upon had been sprung, but were empty. Damien frowned in annoyance. By the seventh empty trap, the annoyance had blossomed into anger.

"What's wrong?"

"Someone's been releasing my catch."

"Why?"

"If I knew that, I'd probably know who."

"What're you gonna do?"

"We'll just finish gathering. I have enough food to last for two more days. Then we'll have to go to town for supplies."

Gideon trailed behind the larger man, watching as he filled the large canvas sack he carried with various plant life.

After about thirty minutes of observation, young Kuschel reached for an interesting looking plant, wanting to help, thinking maybe Damien could use this, too. Before he could grab it, he felt a stinging pain on the back of his outstretched hand. Jerking back, he looked up at Damien cradling the wounded appendage close to his chest.

"What did I just tell you?" Silver Fox scolded, straightening from just having reached over to smack the younger man sharply on his reaching hand.

Gideon blinked back tears, giving the older man a decidedly 'clueless' look.

Damien felt as if he'd whipped a puppy with a stick. "What did I tell you? If you don't know it, don't mess with it! Touch that, and you'll swell up like a blow fish."

There was that pout again. It seemed like all the agent had done that morning was scold him about one thing or another.

Damien frowned, this little tenderfoot was going to seriously hurt himself if he didn't do something. "I want you to go sit on that stump over there until I'm finished," he told him, pointing.

Gideon opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it and stomped over to the indicated spot and sat feeling totally frustrated and useless.

What was it about the associates of the Councilor's Chief Aide and being bullies? Gideon sniffed indignantly. Well, this one wasn't so tough. Just because he was bigger, didn't make him badder. He didn't have to put up with being pushed around. Neanderthal.

Suddenly, Gideon felt something brush the hand that rested on the stump where he sat. Looking down he saw. . .

Damien looked up at the bloodcurdling scream, dropping his herb bag and racing to investigate.

He arrived in the spot he had left Gideon just in time to see the young man racing away at breakneck speed.

"Kuschel!"

Gideon turned at the sound of his name and tripped. In a beautiful display of acrobatics, he twisted to avoid the giant saguaro next to him, but backed straight into the wide, flat leaves of a prickly pear.

Another bloodcurdling scream rent the air.

The agent hurried to the younger man's side. "Stand still," he ordered to the yelping, dancing Gideon, who promptly burst into tears.

"Hurts!" he wailed.

"I know it does," Gideon appeased and he undid the smaller man's shorts and gently pulled them down. A huge needle from the cactus was imbedded deeply into the fleshy curve of his ass.

"Nooo," he wailed as the older man reached for the thorn. "Don't touch it!"

Damien paused. "But I have to get it out, Kuschel."

The young man danced away, leaving his shorts in the dirt. "Noooo."

Picking up the forgotten pair of pants, Damien said sternly, "Come here."

Gideon shook his head and kept his distance. "Noooo."

"Kuschel, at least let me see."

"Nooo," he refused adamantly.

"I'm only going to look," the agent replied carefully.

Gideon hesitated, charmed by the look of concern on the older man's face. "Promise?" he asked hopefully.

"I have to see, Kuschel. Those needles are nothing to play with." He held out his hand. "Come here."

Slowly, infinitesimally slow, Gideon edged up to Damien, eying him suspiciously all the while. When he got within reach, Damien took the young man by the hand and led him over to the stump.

Seeing their destination, the smaller man dug in his heels. "Noooo!"

"What now?" the agent asked as he stopped pulling.

"There!" Gideon pointed to the object resting on the surface of the ancient wood.

"Is that what this is all about?" the older man scoffed, his eyes following the trembling finger.

There on the stump a giant scorpion leisurely crawled.

Damien casually swatted it out of the way. "It's only the little ones you have to watch out for." He sat, drawing the startled younger man across his lap.

Once settled, Gideon yelped, then started to cry again.

"Hush!" Fox admonished as he looked at the protruding needle. It was really jammed in there.

"You said you were just going to look!" the young man wailed, squirming against Damien's lap.

The larger man anchored his fidgeting 'patient' with an arm around his waist. "It has to come out."

"No, please!" he shrieked, redoubling his efforts to escape.

"All right, Kuschel. Settle down." Damien sighed heavily. He had to do something to calm Gideon down before he made matters worst.

Soothing the younger man's bottom with gentle caresses, Silver Fox began stroking him over and over until the crying slowed and the struggles stopped.

Then, wetting his thumb in his mouth, the agent gently parted Gideon's asscheeks. . .
"Nooo!" Gideon began to wail. . .

. . .and began to massage the pucker hidden there . . .

. . .the wail cut off abruptly with an, "Oh!"

Damien stroked, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion until the opening loosened, then pressed the pad of the digit inside. This earned him another, "Oh!" from the man across his lap.

Patiently, Silver Fox stroked with his thumb, teasing the opening until he could slip the large digit easily inside, then he substituted his index finger, using that to stroke in and out until he felt Gideon begin to move against his thigh.

Exchanging the index finger for the longest finger of his hand, he sought the tiny gland deep within Gideon's dark passage.

"Ahhh!" the young man cried out as he felt lightning spear through him, wringing a burst of pleasure from him that soaked Damien's trouser leg.

Gideon collapsed into a boneless heap.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

'He doesn't expect me to answer, does he?' Gideon thought lazily. "Just don't touch it, please."

Damien chuckled. "Too late." He held out his hand.

Gideon stirred enough to look. In the palm of the agent's hand was a two-inch long cactus needle.

"Come on." He pushed Gideon to his feet. "Let's get you home so I can clean that up."

~~

Two hours later, Silver Fox sat in his arm chair staring into the fire blazing in his hearth. Analyzing the events of the past few days in his mind. His attraction to the younger man was a given. Gideon's attraction to him was also a forgone conclusion. Damien knew all he had to do was take and Gideon would give. Gladly. But, why? Fear? Lust? Intimidation? The agent found, to his profound surprise, he wanted more. Much, much more. He wanted it all.

Looking up at a sound in the room, he found a shadow hovering by the door.

"What's wrong? Still hurt?"

Gideon didn't move. "No."

"What is it, then?"

"I want to go home."

"Why?" Damien asked, his voice composed although his heart raced.

"You can't keep me prisoner here," Kuschel said defensively.

"You're not a prisoner," Silver Fox calmly informed his charge.

"Then I want to go home," the young man said sadly.

The agent leaned forward, resting his arms on this thighs. "Why?"

"Because I want to go home," he said stubbornly.

Damien watched the figure hiding in the shadows of the room. He could barely make out the young man's features, but he saw the dejected slump to his shoulders. "Why?" he asked for the third time, still keeping his voice pitched low.

"Isn't it enough that I just want to go?"

"No." Damien waited. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he saw the shadow shift in that aborted foot stomp motion he had come to know so well. "Come here."

"Why?" Gideon asked hesitantly.

"As cruel as you think I am, Kuschel, even I wouldn't spank a wounded bottom no matter how much it deserved it." Damien could almost feel the heat of the blush coming from the young man.

Slowly, Gideon came to stand in front of him.

The agent reached out and pulled the nearest arm until he had the smaller man settled on his lap on the uninjured hip.

"What--"

"Shhh," Damien whispered as he tucked the pale head under his chin and folded the slight body to fit in the crook of his.

"But--"

"Shhh," he said again, rubbing a soothing hand up and down the tense muscles of Gideon's back until he felt the surrender. "Feel better?"

Gideon only nodded in answer.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?"

This time he shook his head.

"Why not?"

"You'll laugh."

"I will?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it's silly."

Damien squeezed him tightly for a moment. "Tell me."

Gideon shook his head again.

Damien became quiet, the hand never stilling, the touch light and soothing. They sat that way for a long time, Damien staring into the fire, Gideon curled in a tight ball.

"Because I'm too much trouble," Gideon said at last.

Damien raised the smaller man's head until he could see his eyes. "If that were true, I'd just kill you and bury your body in the desert."

Gideon's eyes became wide and his mouth opened in a gasp.

Damien leaned forward and covered the tempting lips with his own. Pulling the tense body closer to his with one arm, he reached between their bodies and grasped between Gideon's legs.

The younger man jumped, the slight intake of breath easily stolen.

Within moments, Gideon was rock hard and whimpering against Damien's mouth.

"You are so easy," Damien told him as he released him from the kiss.

Gideon could only moan, arching into the hand that cupped him.

"Are you?" Damien asked as he slowed the rhythm of his hand.

"What?" Gideon whimpered as he pressed back in silent plea.

"Are you easy?" he asked, nipping sharply at the neck exposed to him.

Gideon didn't want to talk, but he sensed his response was important. "I. . .I don't think so. This hasn't ever happened before." Shifting again, he accidentally rolled onto his sore hip. "Owww! Ow! Shit!"

Damien chuckled, kissing the pouting lips. "Maybe we should wait."

"No! Don't wanna wait!" He tugged at the bigger man's shirt.

Silver Fox covered the anxious hands with his own. "We have time."

"No! No! One minute." Gideon slid off the inviting lap, returning instantly, this time straddling it. "See?"

Silver Fox had to chuckle. "And just what are we supposed to do now?"

Gideon spread his thighs wide, lowering himself until he could align the two hard ridges of muscle and began to move. Slowly at first, speeding up as he reached up to join their mouths. After a momentary, token display of protest, Damien picked up on the rhythm, joining in, becoming enthusiastic.

Gideon gripped him by the shoulders, Damien placed both hands around his waist and they moved, hampered only by the furniture around them, getting closer and closer until. . .

Damien came with hardly a whisper, Gideon threw back his head and shouted.

Moments later, Gideon's head resting on the stronger shoulder, he heard the larger man ask, "What is it about you and cumming in your clothes?"

Both dissolved into helpless laughter.

~~~

Another two days had passed and Gideon found himself rudely awakened by a sound swat on the uninjured side of his naked, exposed rear end. Yelping in outrage, he sat up, blinking, startled at his attacker.

"That hurt," he accused with a pout.

"You're missing the best part of the day," Damien told him as he stalked closer.

"What time is it?" Gideon asked with a gulp, as he backed towards the head of the bed, taking the bedclothes with him.

"Seven." Silver Fox put his knee on the edge of the bed.

"In the morning? What's there to miss at seven in the morning?"

"This," the agent told him, and pounced.

~~

Later, a slightly shaky, drained young man stood by the kitchen table, watching his lover with hungry eyes.

Damien had just finished the last of the breakfast dishes and grabbed up a large backpack that rested by the back door.

Gideon scampered to follow.

"I promised to fix my grandfather's roof today," he told Gideon as they walked down the trail. "How handy are you with tools?"

"Not very," the young man reluctantly confessed.

"Can you cook?"

"Umm. . ."

The agent shook his head as he picked up the pace.

Damien picked up sticks and pieces of wood along the way. He had collected quite a bundle before they'd gone half a mile. He bound it up and strapped it to Gideon's back.

A mile later, the young man stopped, out of breath. "Why do I have to carry this?" he whined.

Damien looked back at him over his shoulder. "Because you can't cook," he said as he took a bottle of water from the pack on his back and handed it to the younger man.

"That's no reason to make me some kind of pack animal," Gideon grumbled under his breath, taking the bottle and twisting the top off to take a long swallow.

Clutch heard him anyway. "It's good for you."

Gideon stuck his tongue out, then blushed bright red when the object of his ire turned around in time to catch him.

"You're a bad boy with a death wish, aren't you?" Silver Fox laughed, and picked up the pace.

One mile later, Kuschel knew he would faint any moment. "Couldn't we have driven here?" he panted, draining the last drop from the bottle of water in his hand.

"Yes." The agent stopped and watched Gideon toss the bottle away.

"So why didn't we?"

"Didn't want to." Damien walked over to where the bottle lay.

"Didn't. . ." Gideon sputtered. "How are we going to get back?"

Bending to retrieve it, he said, "Grandfather will probably make us stay the night."

They crested a hill and came upon a small, stucco cottage. Several goats and various other animals respectively grazed and lounged outside in the yard.

Unexpectedly, the largest dog Gideon had ever seen bounded up the hill to greet them.

"Icha!" Damien laughed as the dog lunged at him, placing both forepaws on his shoulders and licking his face. "Down, boy! I missed you, too." He pushed the dog off.

Gideon stood a safe distance away, eying the dog warily.

"Come here, Kuschel. I have to introduce you."

"Does he bite?" the young man asked shakily.

"A foolish question, child. Anything with teeth will bite."

Gideon looked up to find a reed-thin old man, with thick white hair, standing before them. He stood straight, though resting most of his weight on a heavy wooden staff clutched in his hands.

Icha abandoned Damien to run circles around the old man.

"Sit!" he commanded softly, and the dog sank immediately onto his haunches, its large tail making patterns in the sand.

"Grandfather," Clutch said warmly as he enveloped the old man in a hug.

"I had thought you were not coming," the old man said, returning the hug.

"He walks slowly." Damien indicated the younger man as he released his grandfather.

The older man laughed. "And, he does not make a good pack horse."

"No. He does not."

Kuschel pouted at the criticism.

"You should introduce us, just the same."

Clutch smiled. "Yes, Grandfather," he said fondly at the mild rebuke. "Gideon Kuschel, this is Adair Silver Fox, father of my mother. Grandfather, this is my. . . houseguest, Gideon."

"Houseguest? You never have houseguests, Fox."

"This was a request from Viper."

"Ah. Well. We should go inside. The little one is not used to the sun."

Damien followed his grandfather's gaze. Gideon's skin had begun to pink from exposure.

They started for the house, Icha bouncing happily alongside them, barking occasionally.

Frowning with worry, Damien finally asked, "You have something for him, grandfather?"

The old man looked back at his grandson's concerned tone speculatively. "Yes. I'm sure I can find something to help."

Once inside, the old man motioned. "Put the kindling there, little one. Fox, bring me the large clay pot over the sink in the kitchen.

Gideon gratefully dropped the wood where indicated and stretched his back.

"How long will you stay with my grandson?" the old man asked as he slowly sank down on the small couch.

"Not long, nosy old wolf," Clutch scolded as he returned to the main room. He handed his grandfather the pot.

"Do not give it to me. You walked him in the sun without a hat. You put it on him."

Damien turned to regard his 'houseguest'. "He's a big boy, grandfather. I'm sure he can put it on himself." He handed the jar to Gideon and sat on the floor next to the fireplace.

Gideon opened the lid on the pot. The pale green cream inside smelled faintly herbal. Dipping his fingers inside, he began to smear it over his body. The cream cooled his heated skin immediately.

"Help him where he cannot reach, Fox," the old man scolded gently.

Reluctantly, Clutch rose to his feet and went over to the younger man.

Taking the pot from his hand, Silver Fox began working the cream into the backs of Gideon's legs and neck. Then moved on to his face.

By the time he had finished, the color on the younger man's skin had little to do with the sun.

Both men turned to find the old man regarding them. He said simply, "You were to fix the roof, Fox."

"Yes, Grandfather," Clutch answered, placing the pot on a table by the door as he walked outside.

Gideon used the time to try to still the pounding of his heart. He never knew just a touch could make you feel so good or torture you so much.

"My grandson is not much for words."

Jumping guiltily, he turned to his host. "No. He isn't."

"You like him?" the grandfather asked, not missing the guilty expression on the young man's face.

Gideon's face flushed hot. "Ummm, he's all right. I guess."

The old man smiled. "Ah."

"Kuschel!" Clutch bellowed from outside.

Gideon jumped for the second time and raced out of the door without a backward glance.

The old man's smile widened. "Ah."

Poor Gideon lost count of how often Damien called his name as the day went on. The poor man lugged and carried things, brought him water, handed him tools, shingles, nails, the list seemed endless. But Clutch never made him stand outside too long. Still, he called his name frequently, sending the smaller man scampering to answer.

They paused only for lunch, then only for twenty minutes or so, then went straight back to work. The sun had begun to set before Damien finished.

"You will stay, Fox," his grandfather told him.

"Where will we sleep?" Gideon asked apprehensively as he eyed the tiny interior of the house.

"Outside," Clutch told him, as he wiped the dust from his face and neck with a damp cloth.

Gideon's eyes grew round. "On the ground?"

Just then Adair came back with a large sleeping bag. "It will be chilly tonight, Fox. I have extra blankets. You can build a fire."

Damien took the bundle. "Thank you, grandfather."

"Dinner will be ready soon."

"Stay and help my grandfather, Kuschel. I'll be right back."

And he was gone leaving the young man to watch him disheartenly through the window.

Adair drew his attention away by asking him help him fix their meal.

Dinner was simple. Steamed, crisp vegetables covered in a savory meat sauce and wrapped in a flat bread made from flour. Proud that he had helped, Gideon ate three.

"Don't you feed your 'houseguest', Fox?" Adair said, chuckling as Gideon wiped the plate clean with the last bit of bread.

"He isn't mine, Grandfather," Silver Fox said with a frown. "And he eats like that all the time. He's probably not used to work, that's all."

"I do so work!" Gideon said, his cheeks bulging with food.

"Teaching table etiquette?" Clutch asked him wryly.

Kuschel blushed, chewed several times, then swallowed. "I dance."

"And that pays you?" the younger Silver Fox asked snidely.

"I do all right, thank you," the young man huffed, indignantly.

"An honest day's work won't hurt you, Kuschel."

"Fox was a good dancer when he was young."

Clutch looked at his grandfather, horrified. "Grandfather!"

"He was?" Gideon asked, wide-eyed with surprise. "He danced?"

The old man smiled. "At our tribal--"

The agent lurched to his feet. "It's time for bed!"

"But, I'm not sleepy. . ." Gideon began, but rose to his feet as well.

"Go start the fire, I'll help my grandfather with the dishes." Silver Fox's voice brooked little argument. "Grandfather," he said when Gideon had gone, "you are evil!" He stacked the plates and bowls and gathered the glasses.

"Why? Because I told the truth?"

"Tribal dance is different from what he does," he said stubbornly as he carried the dishes to the tiny kitchen.

"How do you know that, Fox? You did not even know he danced."

"He's a layabout, grandfather. If it wasn't for his family's money, he'd starve."

"He seems like a very nice young man."

"He betrayed his best friend. That isn't a nice young man."

The old man watched his grandson carefully. "There are all kinds of betrayals, Fox. I do not think this is a bad person, he just needs a guiding hand."

"I think Viper already gave him that."

The old man snorted. "Sometimes the Viper is too strict for his own good. You two should laugh more. Open your hearts more. The world is full of more colors than black and white and grey, Fox."

The younger man frowned. "I have to go check on him. Make certain he doesn't set himself ablaze. Good night, Grandfather." He kissed the elder man on the cheek. "I will see you in the morning."

"Good night, Fox."

Outside, Damien walked over to the campsite. Gideon had a cheery fire burning in the stone-enclosed pit he'd dug earlier, but the younger man was nowhere to be seen. Following two pair of prints in the sand, he tracked his errant 'guest' to a small clearing not far away. Icha sat beside him. They were both staring at the moon, Gideon whispering secrets in the dog's ear.

"I see you've made a friend," Clutch said quietly.

Icha turned and raced to him, barking madly.

"Some guard dog you are, mutt," the big man scolded. "You go home!"

The dog dropped down on his front legs, his butt waving in the air, and panted, yipping softly.

"That won't work with me, Icha! Grandfather has your dinner. Go eat!"

At that command the dog bounded away a few feet and circled both men in a crazy eight pattern. Doubling back, Icha gave Gideon a quick swipe with his tongue then raced past Clutch, bumping his knee hard, then raced away towards the house.

"I thought you were afraid of him," Silver Fox said as he came up to stand beside the younger man.

"I was. He wouldn't let me be. I came out here and he followed me. He watched me build a fire and followed me over here. When I sat, he sat beside me."

"Are you ready for bed?"

Gideon's back stiffened. "Mr. Silver Fox--" he began slowly.

"Damien."

"I--what?"

"My name is Damien. Or you can call me Fox."

Gideon swallowed hard. "Damien. . .I." He stopped, wringing his hands together.

Clutch knelt beside the distraught young man. "Damien, I--" he prompted.

Gideon glanced at him. "Do you hate me?"

"No."

The younger man looked away. "Do you like me at all?"

Damien smiled at the slightly bowed head. "Yes."

"A little or a lot?"

"Do I get points for these questions?"

Gideon glanced at him again, frowned and looked away.

"The jury's still out," Silver Fox said gruffly. When the narrow shoulders slumped dejectedly, he took the young man by the chin and turned him to face him. "Ask the question, Kuschel," the agent said gently.

"It's because of what happened with Justin, isn't it?" Gideon asked sadly.

Clutch released the young man and stood. Shaking his head, he snorted as he thought, 'Is this what Viper goes through with C.D.? It can't be worth it!' "Let's just say, I dislike you a lot less than I did six days ago," he told the young man gruffly.

Large, dark eyes turned up to him, the narrow face lit with a megawatt smile. "You do?" he asked anxiously.

The older man felt a small place warm in his chest. 'Maybe, it's worth it, after all,' he told himself reluctantly. "Yes."

"A whole lot less or just a little less?" he asked tentatively.

The large man leaned down until they were nearly nose to nose. "Don't push it, Kuschel," he growled softly into the young man's face. "Remember, I spank, too."

The dark eyes grew round as full moons and Damien had to fight the urge to laugh as the Adam's apple bobbed up and down in an audible 'gulp'. Gideon nodded.

"Now, let's get to bed. We've got a long walk home."

Slowly, Gideon rose to his feet, soft features altered by the look of dejection and profound sadness.

Unnerved to be the cause, Damien took the nervous young man by his shoulders, pulled him close and covered his mouth with a kiss.

Gideon felt the contact from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. The sensation of being held in strong hands while his lips were plundered by the large agent heated his blood to the boiling point.

By the time Silver Fox released him, Kuschel felt his body go liquid.

Both men glanced down at the darkening stain in the young man's crotch.

Gideon glanced back up, his face heating. "I. . .I, um--"

"Feel better now?" Silver Fox said with a smile.

"Yes," he answered in a whisper.

"So that means it didn't have anything to do with my expertise?"

Gideon frowned. "I. . ."

The larger man pulled the smaller man to his feet. "Go take those things off and lay them out by the fire. We have to get up early in the morning."

~~~

"Some things never change."

Damien came wide awake and was on his feet before Gideon even stirred.

"You're getting sloppy, Fox."

The young man blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and looked towards the voice.

A woman stood not far from them, her hands on her hips.

Clutch stood there in a fighter's stance, the effect not minimized by the fact that he was stark naked.

"Samantha." He said the name like a curse. "What are you doing here?"

She let her gaze travel appreciatively up and down Clutch's form before she answered. "I heard you were back. I checked your house and you weren't there. This was the next place." She looked down at Gideon. "New toy?" she said snidely.

"Kuschel, go get dressed and see if Grandfather's up," Clutch said tersely.

Gideon rose slowly, careful to keep a blanket around his own nakedness. Before he turned towards his clothes he handed one of the blankets to Clutch.

Damien wore a tiny smile on his lips as he wrapped the blanket around his waist and watched the young man disappear over the small hill.

"Kinda young, isn't he?" she said in a condescending tone.

"What do you want, Sam?"

"Is that any way to greet an old friend, Fox?"

"No." He paused, regarding her with cold eyes. "What do you want, Sam," he repeated.

She blinked, stung by his tone. "If I didn't know better, Fox, I'd think you weren't glad to see me. It's been a long time."

Gideon came back over the hill, completely dressed with his arms full. He stopped to place the folded blanket down by Clutch's leg, then handed him his clothes before continuing on towards the grandfather's house. All this without giving Sam a glance.

Clutch fought the urge to laugh, but took the clothes and slid his pants on before dropping the blanket.

"He's a mite jealous," Sam told him as he watched Gideon walk away.

"Seems that way," Clutch said as he pulled on his shirt.

"How have you been, Fox?"

Clutch sat on the blanket to put on his socks and shoes. "Fine."

She waited. "Don't you want to know how I've been?"

Tying his boots in quick, precise moves, he said, "No."

"I got married."

He stood up, gathering the blankets and bedroll. "Congratulations," he said in the same flat tone.

"Don't you want to know to who?"

Clutch put the bundle aside to put out the fire. "Yellow Bird."

She smiled. "So you have kept up with me."

"No. Grandfather told me."

"It doesn't bother you?"

He finished with the fire and picked up the bundle. "No."

"Damien!" Gideon called from the top of the hill. "Your grandfather says come eat!" And he stood there like a sentinel, waiting.

"He's like a pitbull," Sam said sourly.

Damien laughed. "You don't know the half of it." He trudged up the hill, Sam close behind.

"Hello, Sam," Adair said as he set the table.

"Good Morning," she responded cheerily.

"You are staying for breakfast?"

"I've eaten already, thank you, but if Fox is going back home, I'll wait."

Damien sat next to Gideon at the table. "I was going to town for supplies."

"Good! I'll drive you."

Damien looked over at Gideon whose lower lip protruded slightly in an angry pout.

He looked so irresistible, Damien leaned in close until his lips touched the younger man's ear. "If you keep that up, I'll have to kiss you again," he whispered.

The pout disappeared as Gideon's mouth opened in shock.

"Think I could make you come in your pants again?"

Kuschel jerked away, knocking over the glass of water at his elbow, his face as red as a sunset.

The agent's face lit with a self-gratified smile, while Sam's darkened with angry thunderclouds.

Adair only shook his head and got up to get a towel.

~~

Gideon never remembered eating that quickly in his life. The tension in the room was stifling. He wanted to go, but he didn't want to go with. . .her. Who was she? And the fact that Damien seemed determined to keep him in a constant state of arousal only added to the tension.

Finally finished, the dishes done, they bid Adair and Icha farewell and walked the short distance to Sam's truck.

Damien put his 'guest' in the back seat and Gideon rode the entire distance into town with his arms folded angrily across his chest and his lip in a tight line.

Sam's face wore a self-satisfied smile the entire way.

Once there, Damien made fast work of his shopping, quickly loading the bed of Sam's truck up with foodstuffs and other items.

"How long is he staying?" Gideon heard Sam ask Clutch. He couldn't hear the answer and only imagined the worst.

The ride to Damien's house proved even more tense.

After their arrival, while the trio emptied the truck cab, Gideon watched and seethed as Sam took every opportunity to touch Damien, lean against him, flirt with him. Damien seemed oblivious to his young guest's rising ire or the woman's wiles.

Gideon was the first one finished. Before Damien could say anything to him, Kuschel was up the stairs to the bedroom, slamming the door.

Damien frowned as his eyes followed the younger man's flight.

"Maybe I'd better go see. . ." His sentence cut off by Sam clutching the front of his shirt and plastering her lips against his.

That was how Gideon saw them as he came back down the steps. He turned and raced back up just as Clutch pried himself off the woman.

"You didn't tell him about us, did you?"

Gideon raced inside the bedroom and shut the door again.

"There is no 'us', Sam."

"There can be," she said with a cunning smile.

"You're married," Damien told her, his voice flat and emotionless.

"So?"

Clutch set her away from him. "Go home, Sam."

"Yellow Bird went to Cheyenne on business. He'll be gone for a week."

"Go home, Sam, before I say something or do something you'll regret."

Sam stepped forward and ran her hand up and down Clutch's shirt front. "If you're worried about your little pitbull, we can invite him, too. It'd be fun."

Damien took one of her hands in his. "I don't mind a slut, Sam," he said, bending it back against her wrist until she cried out in pain. "I hate a whore."

"Bastard!" she screamed, struggling against his grip. "You're hurting me."

Clutch dragged Sam out the front door by his hold on her arm, making her have to run on her toes to keep up with him.

Opening the truck door, the agent tossed the woman inside. "You're not welcome here, Sam." He slammed the door.

"Who wants an old prick like you, any way?" she sneered. "You're not much of a trapper, either."

Clutch stood and watched dispassionately as she started the truck, threw it into gear and sped away. At least now he knew what had happened to his traps.

Taking a deep breath, the agent turned back to the house, slowly making his way up the stairs. He turned the doorknob to the bedroom to find it locked. "Kuschel! You are just digging yourself in, here." He waited. "Kuschel, don't make me break down this door." He waited again. "If you don't open this door now, no amount of begging is going to keep me from using Sadie on your ass." Knowing this would work when nothing else would, Damien felt fear when the door remained shut.

He retrieved one of his lock pick kits from a kitchen drawer and proceeded to open the lock on the bedroom. Making quick work of it, he threw open the door.

The room was empty, the window open. In the desert, alone and lost, night approaching. When he found him. . . Damien raced downstairs, grabbing his emergency pack from its place in a corner of the kitchen, and went out the door.

~~

Gideon stumbled and fell for the fourth time, this time scraping the skin from his knee. It was getting dark. He was cold. He was hungry. He was. . .mad!

"I thought. . ." he told the sky. "Oh, right, stupid Giddy! Why would the man be interested in you?" he sneered to himself. "How for an instant could you have believed him attracted to you? If anything, you were just a convenience. A man that good-looking could have his pick of partners. From the way that Sam-person acted, they'd done it before. Why would he want you?"

The last ray of sunlight disappeared behind a hill and Gideon sobbed out his frustration.

"You stupid bitch! Now look what you've done. What were you thinking? Dan'l Boone, you ain't. You are so lost. And they're probably so deep into doing it right now they don't even know you're gone." He sniffed, wiping his nose on his arm. "Oh, Damien," he sighed the name in frustration.

"Yes," came a voice from the darkness just off to his left.

Gideon squealed like a stuck pig. Jumping away, the hapless young man tripped over his own feet, landing face down in the sand.

"That wasn't funny!" he wailed.

"It wasn't meant to be."

"You almost made me piss myself. Oh, I think I did."

"You're all right. Get up."

"No," Gideon said defiantly into the darkness. A second later he felt himself being lifted none-too-gently by the collar of his shirt. He heard a soft 'click', and Damien's angry face appeared in the circle of a flashlight's beam.

"That way," Damien said as he pointed the beam of the flashlight, "is home. You have ten seconds to head down that way or I'm going to take off my belt and those ridiculous shorts of yours and. . ."

He didn't have to finish before Kuschel turned on his heels and headed off towards home, aided by the powerful beam of Damien's flashlight.

It took them nearly an hour to return home, which was good, since it gave Damien an hour to cool off, although, at the same time, it gave Gideon a chance to heat up, replaying the agent's highhanded treatment of him.

Once back inside the house, Silver Fox replaced his emergency pack and took off his jacket.

"You," he said, making Gideon jump. "Upstairs. Shower. Bed."

The younger man put his hands on his hips. "Don't order me around like a dog! I'm the wounded party here," he said, stabbing his thumb at his chest. "For over a week you've been playing me while you waited for your woman to get back."

Damien glared at him. "Is that what you think?"

"I saw you two. She was all over you!"

"I think you saw that you wanted to see," he said as he folded his arms across his chest.

"What?"

"I think you're afraid and you're looking for a way out."

"You're crazy."

"Am I? Get upstairs, Kuschel. You're two heartbeats from the hiding of your life."

"You don't scare me. You--" He screamed as Damien lurched forward. Spinning on his heels, the young man fled the room. Not fast enough, though, to evade an angry Silver Fox who delivered a swat to the trailing backside that nearly knocked Gideon off his feet, and two more before he could reach the stairs.

~~

Later, Damien sat in a kitchen chair listening until he was certain the younger man had followed his orders, then spent the night on the couch knowing that if he touched Gideon now. . .

~~~~

Three days later, they were both nervous wrecks. Damien watching Gideon like a hawk for fear he would run again. Gideon keeping an eye on Silver Fox, terrified nearly out of his mind that the older man would leave him.

Neither speaking more words than were necessary to the other. Both wanting to make things right again. Both unable to make the first move.

On the night of the third day of their nerve-wracking ballet, Gideon awoke once again to an empty bed. Tiptoeing downstairs, he hoped he would find Silver Fox asleep in the big chair or on the couch. Praying he would not find the house empty.

Then Gideon heard the sound.

Wandering into the living room, he saw Damien stretched out on the couch, tossing and turning, in the throes of another nightmare. Remembering the result from his first attempt to awaken the older man, Gideon came as close as he dared. Terrified, and not knowing what else to do, the younger man began to speak. . .

~~

"Then what would you have me do, my child? I cannot bear your sadness."

Damien looked down at himself - he was naked, then around at his surroundings - He was on a barren desert. But his desert wasn't barren. Where was his house? Why did he feel so desperately alone? Alone and sad. More than sad.

Glancing over, he saw the vague figure of a woman dressed in beige and brown flowing robes.

"What are you doing here? Where are we?"

Immediately, she transformed into an Israeli soldier holding an assault rifle trained on his chest. The soldier smiled, his finger slowly pressing on the trigger.

Clutch stood there, helpless, unarmed and looking his imminent death in the face.

Suddenly, he heard a voice. "Please, Damien. . .scared. . .up. . .cold. . ."

Straining to catch the elusive words, Clutch turned towards the wind.

"I'm cold, Damien. Can you hear me? Wake up, please! I don't want to sleep in that bed alone anymore. I was jealous. I thought. . .well, never mind what I thought, please wake up. I want you to hold me like you used to. Damien? You told me not to touch you when you were having a nightmare. Damien? Can you hear me? Please."

The last word was spoken in a sob. Clutch knew he should remember the voice, but why?

"Damien."

This time the sob ended in a forlorn wail.

Abruptly, the Israeli metamorphosed again, this time into Viper, the gun gone from his hands.

"Viper?"

"Then what would you have me do, my child?" he said with the Great Spirit's voice from his first dream. "I cannot bear your sadness."

And Clutch heard his own voice say, "I do not know, Great Spirit." Overcome by a deeply profound sadness, tears slid from his eyes like little rain and fell upon the dry, parched ground beneath his feet.

Clutch watched, mesmerized as the ground greedily drank in the moisture, turning from a pale, dullness, to a rich, dark brown. Then a tiny, green shoot broke through a small crack in the surface. Within seconds, the small sprout grew, reaching for the sky, until it became as tall as Clutch's chest. Then it began to thicken, two limbs appearing from the main stalk, and a thick thatch of cornsilk developed on the top.

Before his eyes, the stalk grew and fattened and formed itself into. . .

"Gideon?"

"I love you," the plant said.

Damien opened his eyes.

~~

The small figure hovered just out of reach in front of him. The worried, lost look on his face shattered the older man's heart. He blinked. "You love me?"

Slowly, the young man nodded. "You heard me?"

"Yes," Damien whispered, then, holding out his arms, said in his native tongue, "Come to me, Little Rain." And smiled.

Gideon sobbed as he threw himself into the outstretched arms, fitting himself snugly into the familiar territory of his lover's lap, wrapping his arms around the heavily muscled chest in a tight grip.

"I'm sorry," both men said simultaneously.

"When I saw her in your arms. . ."

"She means nothing to me. . ."

Both said again.

"Damien--" Kuschel said, then was silenced by warm lips covering his own.

~~~

Suddenly, Gideon felt cool sheets touch his back and he opened his eyes. He was lying on their bed.

When did they move?

Damien stretched out on top of him. "Never run from me again, Little Rain," he said softly.

"What does that mean?"

"What?"

"That name you're calling me. What does it mean?"

"It's from one of our folk tales. It means you are my salvation. That you have given me life. Like the rain does the earth."

Kuschel's eyes darkened with his understanding of the significance of the endearment. "I will never run from you again. I promise." He paused staring deeply into the eyes above him. "Damien?"

"Yes?"

"Make love to me."

The older man felt his heart begin to flutter wildly in his chest. "We've done that more than a few times in the past few days," he said with a laugh.

"No we haven't. Don't get me wrong, what we did was fantastic, but it wasn't making love." Gideon paused again, feeling unsure of himself about asking for sex for the first time since the first time. Drawing trembling fingers down the smooth chest of the man over him, he said, "I need you inside me so badly right now, I can't begin to put it into words."

Silver Fox studied him intensely, mapping out all the secrets hidden behind those incredibly beautiful, expressive eyes.

"If you don't want to," Gideon swallowed, "I'll understand. I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to picking my lovers. But, I wanted you to know, this is different. Honest."

Suddenly, Damien gripped the younger man by the back of his neck, pulling him roughly forward. Opening his mouth, he pressed it against Gideon's, catching him mid-word. Dipping his tongue inside the moist hollow, he caught Kuschel's, mated with it, intimately caressing, sensuously teasing it, slowly rekindling the heat that had been so easily ignited so often before.

Before their bodies could even touch, Silver Fox heard a soft sigh, felt a shudder, and looked down at the small puddle of moisture pooling around the young man's navel.

"I'm sorry," Kuschel said, blushing riotously.

"Don't worry about it, Little Rain," Silver Fox whispered reassuringly. "I just hope you have more. You'll need it."

Gently running his fingers across the smooth skin of Gideon's chest, Silver Fox followed the pathway with his lips, proceeding downward, exploring the soft skin of the young man's chest, paying extra special attention to the sensitive nipples nestled there.

Kuschel twisted his fingers into the sheets beneath him as Silver Fox concentrated on teasing and torturing. Moving lower, Kuschel arched, a small whimper of escaping past tense lips.

The flaccid, spent organ began to fill again.

"For me?" Silver Fox said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Gideon could only nod, and pant.

"Ah, youth," he said a moment before lowering his head and pulling the entire length of Gideon's cock into his mouth.

Kuschel squealed in surprise bucking against the mattress in pleasure as the heat surrounded him.

Damien drew back slowly, keeping the friction of his mouth constant as he did.
At the tip, he took the young man's erection in his hand and flattened out his tongue using it to swirl intricate patterns around the engorged gland.

"Damien, please," Gideon panted, as he tried to push his cock back into paradise.

Silver Fox stopped only long enough to ask, "Damien, what?"

"Inside me. Please, Fox, inside me." Gideon began moving frantically on the bed.

Without releasing his hold on his prize, the agent reached one-handedly over and into the drawer of the nightstand.

By the time the older man sat back and opened the tube, Gideon had been reduced to structureless mound of flesh pooling in the sheets, and his vocal skills had deteriorated to one sentence, "Please. . .so good. . .more. . .don't stop." Repeated over and over again.

Squirting a generous amount of lubricant on his finger, Silver Fox tugged at the slender hips until Gideon lay flat on his back. Raising the legs up over his shoulders, he slowly inserted the slick finger into the awaiting opening, taking a great deal of time to prepare his lover to take him.

Kuschel watched the procedure, breathing in deep, hard pants, his eyes glistening with want and love until, eons later, he felt the larger man position himself against his throbbing entrance.

Gideon arched his back as he pushed desperately up with his hips, seeking fulfillment.

"Please," he panted heavily as he used Damien's shoulders for leverage. "Fox, please." Gideon exposed the red, ripe puckered opening to his lover's hungry eyes.

"Patience, little one," Damien said softly as he guided his hot rod into the place Gideon offered. Cautiously easing the head in, slowly, inch by excruciating inch, he finally asked, "Is this what you want?"

"Yes, please," Gideon groaned. "More."

Silver Fox rocked his hips, moving forward, nearly there. The heat and pressure, the friction was incredible. Then he felt the smaller body beneath his lurch and heard a soft moan of pain. He stopped immediately. "What's wrong?"

"Ssst. Nothing." Gideon panted, reaching out questing hands for a hug. "It's just been a long time, and, you're not exactly small. It'll be okay. Just--"

"You want to stop?"

"NO! You do and I'll kill you and bury your body in the desert."

The older man snorted in amusement, then gently turned him onto his side, not breaking their connection, and wrapped an arm the smaller chest. The feel of Damien's erection turning inside him, the length of his body against his backside, sent a fresh wave of desire rocketing through his body.

"Oh, please. Oh. Please. Ohpleaseohpleaseohpleasepleasepleasepleaseplease," the smaller man chanted as he tried to push back with his hand against the mattress and fully impale himself on the temptation halfway inside him.

Silver Fox gritted his teeth, as he clutched at the undulating hips teasing his groin, fighting to remain still. "Shhh, Little Rain." He punctuated the gentle command with a warm, wet lick along the distended vein at the side of Gideon's neck.

The young man squeezed his eyes tightly closed as a large hand began stroking the muscles of his chest.

"Give us a few minutes," he said, as he rested his head against his lover's shoulder.

"Oh. Damien. So good. Please. More," Gideon pleaded.

"Ssshhh," the older man soothed. "A minute, little one. We've waited this long. One minute more." He kissed the hollow of the shoulder that trembled in front of him before nipping sharply at the flesh there.

"Oh!" Gideon yelped as he felt the slight pinch followed by the heavy pressure as the agent pushed forward. "OH!" Gideon purred as Damien filled him. "Yes."

"You like that?" Damien asked as he pushed into the tight opening, just a fraction more.

"Mmmm...." was all the young man could manage.

"More?"

"Oh, yes. Please," the young man sighed.

Damien rocked his hips, easing inside another fraction.

They sighed together.

Silver Fox reached out, his hand barely skimming the flat nipples. He teased them, repeatedly, until both had contracted into tiny beads.

Damien smiled as the man resting in the curve of his body trembled violently in response to his stimuli.

Silver Fox raised his head just enough to watch the look of pleasure settle on Gideon's face as he gently rolled one of the nipples between his forefinger and thumb.

"Damien. . ."

"Yes?" he said, nuzzling the warm neck presented to him.

"I need your hands. . .please."

Silver took the flesh of the young man's earlobe between his teeth. "They're here," he whispered into Gideon's ear, as he passed the palm of his hand over the brown pebble of a nipple.

Gideon's head moved from side to side in a silent negative as he reached for Silver Fox's hand and trailed the hand down to his cock. "Touch, here."

The larger man's hand closed around Kuschel's straining erection and began stroking it slowly.

"Like this?" he teased in a whisper to a heated ear.

His only answers came in a low, helpless moan.

Kuschel rocked against Silver Fox, pushing himself deeper.

"Ayyee," Gideon moaned. "Silver Fox. . ."

"I know." The older man worked his right arm under the slight figure to pull him snugly back against his chest and drove deeper, still.

Gideon arched into the pleasure, full now to the point of bursting, and lay his head back against the strong shoulder behind him as the rock hard erection found home.

"Oh, yes. There. Right there. Damien. Wait," he panted desperately.

The big man kissed the bowed neck as he willed rebellious muscles to freeze. "You're killing me."

"One second. . .one second." Gideon took a deep breath. "Move."

And Damien pulled back slowly, rotating his hips before plunging forward. "Exquisite," he murmured, nuzzling the smooth cheek and heated skin.

"What?" Gideon asked, his voice barely audible.

"You." Damien moved again, out slowly, in. . . "This." The older man almost strummed with contentment as he increased the rhythm of his hips and his hand.

'He's so tight,' the older man thought, his ragged breaths fanning across downy cheeks. 'And all mine. . .all.' And on that thought, he began to drive himself in as deep as he could, go as fast as he dared.

Silver Fox wrapped his arms tightly around the undulating, quivering mound of flesh plastered against the length of him.

Gideon, unable to follow the rhythm behind him, reached behind him hooking his arm around the older man's neck, hanging on for dear life while absorbing the pounding of his life.

"Harder," the young man commanded. "Oh!," he grunted when his lover obeyed the command. "More. Deeper. Faster." He bucked back against the solid wall of muscle behind him, trying to help achieve a goal.

"No. I won't hurt you," Silver Fox said, slowing his movements.

"I'm almost there!" Gideon whimpered as he moved his hips to compensate. "I can see it!"

"I know you are," the agent told him as he buried himself in sweat-dampened, cornsilk hair. "But I won't hurt you. We'll get there, Little Rain. But we'll get there together. Trust me. Relax."

Although he asked the impossible, Gideon struggled to comply. Slowly, the squirming eased as he relinquished control to the larger man.

"Good. That's the way," Silver Fox crooned as he thrust into his lover, "and I'll make it so good. Yes." And his hand moved steadily over Gideon's throbbing cock. Caressing, taunting, teasing with promises of completion. "Are you mine, Little Rain? For as long as we have on this earth?"

"If you want me. Yes," came the strangled reply as Silver Fox surged forward powerfully, burying himself even deeper in the sweetness. "Mmph. . .oh. . . YOURS!"

And Gideon gave up the struggle. Silver Fox felt the body against his tighten and the telltale convulsions beginning, coming in rapid succession. The smaller man's cries pierced the air as his fists knotted in the sheets beneath them. Still the larger man continued, unrelenting, wringing every ounce he could from this climax.

And the tightening muscles closed on its prisoner squeezing frantically around Silver Fox's cock, working it, milking it. Taking with the sensations his sanity, his will, until, at last, the larger man stiffened, pushing one last time into the hot cavern. And they seemed suspended in that moment, locked forever in the ecstasy of passion, of completion, of fulfillment. . .until, he finally collapsed, turning at the last minute to keep from crushing the small, limp form beneath him.

~~~~~

The phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"I'm on my way."

"Don't bother."

"But--"

"Don't bother. I'll see he gets home."

There was silence on the other line.

"And, Cook. . .tell Viper, he owes me nothing. We're even."

Damien broke the connection before the young operative could answer, and walked out of the house.

He found Gideon in the center of his yard. The young man wore an old pair of Silver Fox's sweat pants and one of his shirts. The abbreviated shorts had met their blazing end in a campfire several nights ago, along with a promise of what would happen if Clutch ever saw his lover in another pair of shorts that didn't cover at least half his thighs.

Gideon looked like a little boy. A happy little boy. Arms outreached to the sky, the slim figure started to dance.

And Damien watched in awe as the body he'd come to love so dearly moved with the grace of the wind in the trees. His arms and his hands telling a story of secrets, of wisdom, the granting of wishes. . .of green growing things in the desert, of love sprouting in a once barren heart. . .

"Silver Fox!" Gideon called out, finally noticing him standing there watching. "Come dance with me."

The agent shook his head. "I'd rather watch."

"Come on." The younger man held out his arms in invitation. "I go home today. Give me something to dream on."

The larger man stepped out into the yard. "What if you didn't?"

Gideon stopped dancing. "Didn't dream?"

"Didn't have to go home?"

"Stay here forever?"

Damien laughed. "Even I don't stay here forever, but stay for another. . .oh, say, another week or two?"

A look of pure joy traversed the young man's face. "Could I?"

"Yes."

He squealed and launched himself into strong arms, kissing soft lips. "Dance with me," he demanded, wrapping his legs around his lover's hips and his arms around the strong neck.

Damien kissed his love again. "All right." He turned them back towards the house.

"Wait! Where are we going?"

"To dance," Damien said with a smile.

"I meant. . .Damien Silver Fox, you know perfectly well. . .you put me down! Umph! Oh!" The last two sounds were uttered as Gideon found himself hoisted up over a strong shoulder and his bottom soundly spanked.

As the two started up the stairs, both wore a secret smile of love and anticipation.

And, outside, it began to rain. . .