NOTE: This is the original version of the scene where they travel through the mountains to Chedi; I don’t even remember now why I changed my mind about it. So here it is because I hate to waste a sex scene.

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Beyond Ripuk’s borders, no one traveled save for animals and the few adventurous merchants who made the journey from the coast. The trees were larger and the underbrush denser. The slopes were steeper, and there were no broad river valleys as there were to the south. The convoy’s progress slowed as they rode along the course of a river through the green, misty peaks. The track crossed the river again and again as they traveled northwest, following the narrow bank as it shifted from one side of the river to the other. At times the path abandoned the valley and climbed into the hills to course along the ridge for a while before descending again. 

“I can see why no one lives here,” Sejun said as they stopped to water the horses before fording the shallows. “Where would you even build a house? It would slide directly down the mountainside and fall into the river.”

“You would have to build a nest in the trees, like a bird,” Taral said.

Sejun laughed and swatted at a biting fly that landed on his neck. “How fanciful for my serious Taral. I didn’t know you partook in whimsy.”

“I never will again now that you’ve teased me about it.”

Sejun reached over to touch one of Taral’s earrings. “I like your whimsy.”

“Well,” Taral said, pleased but also not sure how to respond. He held Sejun’s gaze until Sejun smiled and looked away.

Camping that night gave them some trouble. There wasn’t enough flat ground for everyone to sleep, even laid out in tight rows directly alongside the river. Taral succumbed to the inevitable and carried his bedding up the slope until he found a glade of ferns which would do well enough, although he expected that all the blood in his body would pool in his feet by morning from the slant of the ground.

Sejun followed not long after, swearing and thrashing through the rhododendrons. “There are too many flies by the river,” he announced, and dropped his bedding beside Taral.

“They haven’t bothered me. You must be delicious.” Taral smiled up at him. “There’s room here. I’ll be glad to have you keep me warm.”

The day’s warmth was fading as the sky went black and the first moon rose. Taral and Sejun arranged their blankets and mats and curled up together. The ferns made a more comfortable bed than Taral had expected, and Sejun’s shoulder was was a reasonable pillow. Taral closed his eyes and let the weariness of the day fall over him as its own blanket and weigh him down toward the ground.

Sejun was playing with one of his earrings, tugging gently, twisting the loop back and forth. Taral didn’t mind at first, but then the sensation grew distracting. Taral’s ears were sensitive, and pleasant shivers began to run down the back of his neck as Sejun continued. Taral chewed on his lip, trying to resist his growing interest. He was all too aware of how many people were sleeping nearby, or lying awake trying to sleep with listening ears.

“Sejun,” he said at last, in a low tone.

Sejun’s fingers stilled. “Oh yes?”

Taral pressed himself up to gaze down at Sejun’s face in the darkness. The moonlight was enough to show him the self-satisfied slant of Sejun’s mouth. He bent to press his mouth to Sejun’s ear. “You’d better stop,” he whispered, “as I know you can’t be quiet enough to keep everyone in the delegation from hearing what we’re up to.”

Sejun scoffed. “_Me_? You should be worrying about yourself, the way you always—” His hands slid up to grip the backs of Taral’s bare thighs, right below the curve of his ass. “How you moan at the end with no shame.”

Taral’s face went hot. He hadn’t realized that he was—that he made quite so much noise. He lay down again and closed his eyes.

Sejun’s hand slid over the small of his back. “I enjoy the moaning, to be clear.”

Well—sure. Of course he did. Taral enjoyed Sejun’s noises, certainly. He kissed Sejun’s shoulder. He didn’t, actually, care who heard them, or particularly think that anyone would. They could be quiet, and anyway they had climbed high enough above the river that anyone sleeping below would think they had only heard an animal, or the wind.

“Taral,” Sejun whispered as Taral kissed the base of his throat. “What if I can’t be quiet?”

Taral muffled his laughter against Sejun’s neck. How quickly the true nature of Sejun’s concerns was revealed. “I trust you can manage to control yourself.”

Sejun muttered something and turned them over, pressing Taral down into the blankets and the ferns beneath, which had an odd texture like a mattress overstuffed with fresh straw that hadn’t settled in yet. Taral hooked his arm around Sejun’s neck and let himself be kissed, Sejun’s mouth hungry on his as if they hadn’t made frantic love in Barun two nights before, Taral gripping at Sejun and thinking determinedly only of him, as if there were no other men in the entire world. Every time they kissed it was like this, an abrupt surge of lust and longing that crashed over Taral and left him panting at Sejun’s touch. 

Taral pressed his hips up against Sejun’s. They were both hard, and Taral had been wet since Sejun toyed with his earring. This would be fast, as it so often was, and Taral’s gut clenched with the pleasure he knew was coming. He still felt cautious with Sejun in the manner of a person handling an expensive and fragile vase; he wanted to protect Sejun’s feelings, and had to fight his inclination toward formality and proper manners as he knew that would only make the situtation worse. But when they were both naked it was easy. Taral’s body craved Sejun’s touch, and he could stop thinking and simply let himself be with Sejun. 

Sejun worked one hand beneath Taral’s ass to lift him closer, crushing him against Sejun’s pelvis and the hot line of his cock. Taral squirmed, trying to get more friction, throbbing everywhere and eager to spill but also happy to linger on the knife’s edge of pleasure. He slid his hands down Sejun’s back, delighting in the sleek warmth of Sejun’s skin. He wanted more. The night was bright with stars and filled with the songs of insects, and surely that music would drown out any quiet noises the pair of them happened to make.

“Inside me,” Taral breathed against Sejun’s throat. 

Sejun didn’t protest. Taral drew his knees up toward his chest and chewed his lip in anticipation. He was weak for Sejun—soft for him, but Sejun didn’t gloat or mock or ever imply that Taral’s desires were shameful. Sejun seemed just as overcome as Taral felt, most of the time. Sejun sucked in a deep breath as he pushed inside and dropped his forehead to Taral’s shoulder, and Taral cupped the back of his head, cradling and soothing. 

Sejun moved inside him with slow caution, and they didn’t make a sound, not even the blankets rustling. The glacial drag of Sejun’s cock inside him was so good that Taral found himself flexing his feet and ankles over and over in some useless attempt to control his responses. He could feel every inch of Sejun’s cock spearing him open and touching deep places inside him that brought gasps to his mouth he fought to hold back. As his his pleasure rose, he pressed his hand over his own mouth, and that helped, mostly as a reminder to stay quiet.

Sejun sat back and hauled Taral’s hips into his lap. The new, shallower angle made Taral’s thighs quiver. He lay splayed open, staring up at the moon rising above the trees, as each roll of Sejun’s hips brought him closer to the edge. When Sejun wordlessly drew Taral’s hand to his own cock, Taral stroked himself off with a tight, deliberate grip. The trembling in his thighs turned into shaking, until he clamped his legs to Sejun’s sides to brace himself as the shaking spread all over. He took his thumb between his teeth and didn’t make a sound.

Sejun gave a single, airless sigh as he shoved in hard one final time and filled Taral.

They lay together, Taral holding Sejun close, sticky and sated. The night breeze cooled his overheated face. “You see,” he whispered. “Nothing to worry about at all.”

“But I missed your noises,” Sejun whispered back, and began to kiss Taral’s neck and scrape lightly with his teeth until Taral had to squirm away, oversensitive.

Sejun fell asleep in his arms. Taral lay awake for a while, rubbing Sejun’s back in broad circles and listening to a distant owl hoot from somewhere down the valley. His dim sense of their bond was slack with sleep, as if Sejun had transformed into a white cloud.