Stefan
grimaced at the sight of Janos swaggering into the tavern wearing
a scowl and breeches so tight his cock was clearly defined resting
against his thigh. Heated comments from all sides warned him
others took note as well and with less amusement.
The boy intended to get himself killed, one
way or another.
Even in his anger, Stefan reacted. His heart
swelled painfully in his chest. His cock in particular didn’t
care that he was angry with his lover, reacting with a mind
of its own to the young man’s lust-provoking presence. Raven
hair flowing, dark eyes blazing, Janos’s delicate frame carried
his allure well.
And, if the fire burned any hotter, Stefan
would burst into flame.
The western style he wore already set him apart
from everyone else in the room. Yet, he chose to flaunt himself.
With coat and waistcoat swept back in defiance to reveal those
form hugging breeches and the nearly translucent white shirt
untied to expose an expanse of naked chest, he clearly meant
to provoke.
Janos ignored the glare Stefan cast his way
and dropped into the seat opposite him at the table. With a
jangle of coins, he plopped a heavy, leather purse in front
of Stefan and growled, “There’s more.” 
Stefan picked up the purse, testing the weight
before slipping it into his shirt. “This was a mistake. I see
you’ve heard.”
“Heard what?” Janos waved at the barmaid and
pointed, indicating she should bring both of them a fresh drink.
Stefan grabbed his hand out of the air. “Stop
calling attention to yourself.”
Janos gaped at him for a second before his
look of surprise deteriorated to a glare. He snatched his hand
from Stefan’s with a snarl and sprawled across the bench with
his back to the wall, looking far too inviting for the seething
expression he wore. “Then, you order my drink.”
Stefan waited to catch the barmaid’s eye and
gave her their order, then turned his attention to the man across
from him. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”
“I was detained.”
Stefan raised a brow. Janos was not normally
sullen. He understood the man had secrets and a history he refused
to discuss. A little mystery added allure, but Stefan feared
his lover was sinking beneath a past which refused to release
him. He’d witnessed what that past produced. Memories of the
young corporal charging into battle, filled with blood-lust
and indifferent to the carnage surrounding him would haunt him
forever. Stefan feared for him even before he knew him.
“Janos, you should leave.”
“I just got here.”
“No, make yourself scarce for a while.” He
desperately needed Janos to pay attention, to understand the
validity of his concern. “Go to Buda. Spend some of this money
you’re hoarding.”
The man wasn’t even listening. Stefan followed
his gaze which was locked on an animated young man seated at
a table across the room. “Did you hear anything I said?”
“Oh, yes. You want to be rid of me.” Was that
a quiver in his voice?
Jesu Christi, there was no reasoning
with the man. Stefan slammed a fist to the table. “I’m trying
to save your life. How far do you trust those partners of yours?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Janos, the bounty on your head is trebled
after this last escapade. Don’t you imagine your men are calculating
the risk of highway robbery against the simple task of turning
you in?”
“Oh, that. Don’t worry yourself, Stefan. I
won’t.” Janos waved the idea away, but when his hand came to
rest again on the table, it shook.
Stefan glanced up to find Janos had caught
him noticing. He reached for him.
Janos pulled the hand away, offering an impudent
grin in its place, and ran a lazy finger along the open seam
of his shirt.
“What do you think of my disguise?” He actually
had the gall to bat his eyes.
“A peasant boy is a disguise. What you have
here is a death wish,” ...
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