Post by infinite on Mar 19, 2011 22:18:10 GMT 10
Title: Sand and Sun
Rating: R
Word Count: 286
Pairing: Jon/Zahir
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Jon discovers the perils of desert travel.
Jon winced in his saddle, as he had being doing all that day. Zahir didn’t like to see his knight-master in pain, but on this occasion he couldn’t help but find the sight – and the sound of Jon’s pained grunts – rather satisfying. They had spent the last week or two riding through the desert, visiting Bazhir tribes. They traveled alone because it would be quicker, and Jon couldn’t spare much time. Between tribes there was nothing but desert, and they had been making the most of the isolated landscape. But Jon wasn’t completely happy. He was used to cool winds and a sun that didn’t scorch. He was used to a proper bed, with sheets that were clean and soft and indoors.
As they approached the tents of the Bloody Hawk, Zahir cautioned, “You had better at least try to smile when we get there.”
Jon grumbled, “It’s easy for you to say so, Desert Boy, but I’m the one with the sunburnt backside (Zahir smirked) and, what’s more I…I think I have sand in my – Halef Seif!”
“Welcome, Voice of the Tribes! Your highness!” The Bazhir Headman had ridden out to greet them.
As they rode into the village, Zahir nudged his horse over to Jon and murmured in his ear, “Don’t worry about that sand, sire. I know an oasis a few miles from here. I’m sure we can get you all cleaned out.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to get away tonight,” Jon whispered.
“No matter – I’ll just have to do it myself, then.” Zahir stuck out his tongue, then ostentatiously licked his lips. Jon shivered. He relished it when this catlike boy bathed him, though it never left him feeling clean.
QC by: journeycat
Rating: R
Word Count: 286
Pairing: Jon/Zahir
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Jon discovers the perils of desert travel.
Jon winced in his saddle, as he had being doing all that day. Zahir didn’t like to see his knight-master in pain, but on this occasion he couldn’t help but find the sight – and the sound of Jon’s pained grunts – rather satisfying. They had spent the last week or two riding through the desert, visiting Bazhir tribes. They traveled alone because it would be quicker, and Jon couldn’t spare much time. Between tribes there was nothing but desert, and they had been making the most of the isolated landscape. But Jon wasn’t completely happy. He was used to cool winds and a sun that didn’t scorch. He was used to a proper bed, with sheets that were clean and soft and indoors.
As they approached the tents of the Bloody Hawk, Zahir cautioned, “You had better at least try to smile when we get there.”
Jon grumbled, “It’s easy for you to say so, Desert Boy, but I’m the one with the sunburnt backside (Zahir smirked) and, what’s more I…I think I have sand in my – Halef Seif!”
“Welcome, Voice of the Tribes! Your highness!” The Bazhir Headman had ridden out to greet them.
As they rode into the village, Zahir nudged his horse over to Jon and murmured in his ear, “Don’t worry about that sand, sire. I know an oasis a few miles from here. I’m sure we can get you all cleaned out.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to get away tonight,” Jon whispered.
“No matter – I’ll just have to do it myself, then.” Zahir stuck out his tongue, then ostentatiously licked his lips. Jon shivered. He relished it when this catlike boy bathed him, though it never left him feeling clean.
QC by: journeycat