That audacious confidence was one of the things Ned most admired about Cole, and while filth should’ve been the last thing on his mind, he kept chewing on all the insults thrown their way today as they transformed into alluring images.
Ned braced on his hands and knees, Cole kneeling behind him, his dark cock peeking out from between Ned’s buttocks.
Cole glancing up with Ned’s thick cock poking at his cheek from the inside.
Those weren't thoughts Ned ought to entertain in a situation so dire, but his dick had a mind of its own, and in the dead of night, as they approached the town he was growing to resent already, Ned imagined his lover’s naked form. In that moment of absolute trust and pleasure, when Cole had laid on top of Ned, there had been nothing he wanted more than to connect in a new, forbidden way. Yet the prospect of talking about it filled him with so much shame his tongue tied.
Cole spoke once the black silhouettes of buildings gained some detail in the faint glow of the wispy crescent moon. “I’ll miss Scotch. He was the only one who didn’t forget how old I was after Tom took me in. Before his hands grew too shaky for carving, he even made me some wooden toys.”
A needle pushed between Ned’s ribs. “And yet he was an old drunk who died the way he lived!” Ned spat, surprising himself with the outburst, but there was only so much fury he could hold in. At some point, the lid had to come off.
“Maybe we deserve the same then,” Cole growled, speeding up as if he didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
Ned thought back to all the crimes he’d already committed for the gang despite trying to keep true to his principles. He had no idea how he’d get back to living a normal life. “Maybe we do.”
Cole surely regretted staking his claim over Ned, but he wasn’t saying that just yet. As they followed the road to the edge of town, where the lanterns were lit, Ned’s stomach fell at the sight of a second wooden coffin resting against the building on the edge of town. Ned almost told Cole not to look at it, but there was no stopping him once he made his choice.
Cole trotted all the way to the wall of shame and stilled in the dim glow of a single lamp, his back hunching as he took in the town’s freshest corpse. Several people had gathered close to Scotch’s body, and Ned went cold when a man he’d shared gin with smiled at him drunkenly.
“Hey there, partner! Came to show your friend the drowner?” he cackled as Ned prayed for him to say no more. He’d gotten carried away with everyone else when he should have celebrated on his own. In silence. “Don’t think I ever heard a fellow whistle so well. Would you repeat it for my girl?” The drunk stranger grabbed a smiling woman by the waist and pulled her close for a kiss.
Ned tipped his hat with a tight smile. “Too tired I’m afraid, but you have yourselves a nice night.”
Cole took another glance at Scotch’s corpse, which had been marked as a brawler, and rode straight to the stables nearby. Ned had rocks in his stomach as he followed, and they kept gnawing at his insides while Cole paid the stable boy for keeping their mounts overnight.
Once they were back outside and the night cold pricked at their flesh, Cole spoke. “Do you have anything to say?”
Ned put his hands into the pockets of his jacket as they walked along the messy backlots of the buildings standing along the town’s only street. The scents of booze, piss, food, and animal droppings hung densely in the air, choking him until the silence forced him to open his mouth.
“So I was there, Cole, all right? I had to pretend I was part of the crowd or they’d kill me too. I’m sorry… I didn’t have it in me to do anything with all the town’s men out for Scotch’s blood. You won’t tell Tom, right?”
Cole shook his head. “So you let them kill him? Your brother?” Cole asked with urgency in his voice as he tapped his forearm to remind Ned of the mark they shared. It was dark here, but the dusky glow of the stars made the whites of his eyes stand out. “What if it was me? Would you have cheered to save your hide then?”
“No!” Ned itched to grab Cole’s hand, but the noise coming from behind the buildings kept him from doing it. There were far too many people here to risk such a thing. “I would have shot the executioner, strangled the hangman, and slit the sheriff’s throat for you. You must know that, right?” The stiffness in Cole’s shoulders made his skin freeze with anguish, and he dared slide his fingers into the sleeve of Cole’s jacket, unable to bear this distrust any longer.