(no subject)
Title: On Picquet
Rating: K+ (Suitable for ages 13 and above)
Disclaimers: The character Brendan Burke belongs to peach_megumi. The character Zachary Pye belongs to sentryguardt. Friedler is a shared NPC
Original pen-date: 4 February 2011
Summary: Show the Colours AU; two Riflemen alleviate their boredom while on picquet duty. Portugal, 1809.
Author's Note: Written for a Kink meme on DreamWidth. Prompt - Burke/Pye. On picquet duty and bored.
Had it not been for the bottle of wine stashed in his pack, Friedler might not have needed to make a late-night visit to the bushes. It was perfectly dark and he had some difficulty finding his way to a sufficient distance from the camp, where he could safely unbutton his trousers to relieve himself. As he stood straddle-legged in the dark, however, the Rifleman became aware of the hushed rasp of voices, not far away. The words were indistinct and chances were he wouldn't have been able to understand them anyway. His English was still distressingly poor.
All the same, he carefully did up his trousers once his business was finished and crept silently through the underbrush. Was it the enemy, crouching in anticipation of an order that would send them crashing through the Riflemen's camp? Friedler realised, woefully too late, that while he had his rifle with him, it was not loaded. He could not fire an alarm shot without sacrificing precious seconds to ram powder and ball down the grooved barrel.
Gripping the Baker with both hands, he crept forward another few steps, before kneeling behind a tree to listen. The voices he heard were undeniably English, which was a relief. The words, on the other hand, were strange. Or rather, the tone of the words was. It did not sound like a casual conversation to Friedler's ear. It was something more... he could not come up with the right word for it.
There were two people there. He could tell that much. As he listened, he began to feel increasingly suspicious. It seemed that the conversation was becoming more sporadic, overtaken by soft grunts and groans. He thought he heard the steady, light slap of skin against skin as well. Suddenly, it dawned on him what was happening. It was a tryst. An embarrassed smile came onto his face and he felt guilty for eavesdropping.
It was perfectly natural for such a thing to occur, he thought as he slipped noiselessly away. Whichever lucky fellow was on picquet there, Friedler privately envied him. To have his wife or sweetheart sneak up from the baggage for a short, secret visit... a lucky fellow indeed.
"Shh," Burke hissed suddenly. "I think I heard somethin'."
Pye froze at once, his ears alert. But he could hear nothing. "I ain't..."
"Never ye mind," the older Rifleman said after a moment, apparently satisfied they were in no danger of being discovered. He smiled gently and slipped his hand over the pale curve of Pye's bottom again. "Now where were we?"
Rating: K+ (Suitable for ages 13 and above)
Disclaimers: The character Brendan Burke belongs to peach_megumi. The character Zachary Pye belongs to sentryguardt. Friedler is a shared NPC
Original pen-date: 4 February 2011
Summary: Show the Colours AU; two Riflemen alleviate their boredom while on picquet duty. Portugal, 1809.
Author's Note: Written for a Kink meme on DreamWidth. Prompt - Burke/Pye. On picquet duty and bored.
Had it not been for the bottle of wine stashed in his pack, Friedler might not have needed to make a late-night visit to the bushes. It was perfectly dark and he had some difficulty finding his way to a sufficient distance from the camp, where he could safely unbutton his trousers to relieve himself. As he stood straddle-legged in the dark, however, the Rifleman became aware of the hushed rasp of voices, not far away. The words were indistinct and chances were he wouldn't have been able to understand them anyway. His English was still distressingly poor.
All the same, he carefully did up his trousers once his business was finished and crept silently through the underbrush. Was it the enemy, crouching in anticipation of an order that would send them crashing through the Riflemen's camp? Friedler realised, woefully too late, that while he had his rifle with him, it was not loaded. He could not fire an alarm shot without sacrificing precious seconds to ram powder and ball down the grooved barrel.
Gripping the Baker with both hands, he crept forward another few steps, before kneeling behind a tree to listen. The voices he heard were undeniably English, which was a relief. The words, on the other hand, were strange. Or rather, the tone of the words was. It did not sound like a casual conversation to Friedler's ear. It was something more... he could not come up with the right word for it.
There were two people there. He could tell that much. As he listened, he began to feel increasingly suspicious. It seemed that the conversation was becoming more sporadic, overtaken by soft grunts and groans. He thought he heard the steady, light slap of skin against skin as well. Suddenly, it dawned on him what was happening. It was a tryst. An embarrassed smile came onto his face and he felt guilty for eavesdropping.
It was perfectly natural for such a thing to occur, he thought as he slipped noiselessly away. Whichever lucky fellow was on picquet there, Friedler privately envied him. To have his wife or sweetheart sneak up from the baggage for a short, secret visit... a lucky fellow indeed.
"Shh," Burke hissed suddenly. "I think I heard somethin'."
Pye froze at once, his ears alert. But he could hear nothing. "I ain't..."
"Never ye mind," the older Rifleman said after a moment, apparently satisfied they were in no danger of being discovered. He smiled gently and slipped his hand over the pale curve of Pye's bottom again. "Now where were we?"