May 6, 2010
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 The hunter lay back on his furs, eyes shut and breath slow, feeling the almost giddy weariness in his limbs that came from the hard day’s work. He enjoyed the sensation; if he was tired, it meant he was alive, and there were not enough hours in the day to truly exhaust him. Once he’d finished taking care of the meat from their kills, and dealt with the rest of the camp duties, his partner had sent him to get himself cleaned up and lie down, saying he’d be along shortly.

That had been a while ago; he had to admit he was getting worried. With the extra work the jaguarundi had had cut out for him, was it possible the tanner-mage had fallen asleep while washing up in the nearby stream?

A faint rustle outside the tent was enough to calm him down. While his partner’s steps were heavy, and by the sounds of it he was dragging his paws a bit, that was to be expected after treating not one but two hides in the same timespan he’d normally have given himself to take care of a single dead creature. That in turn had left Vinnu with an even larger share of camp duties and corpse cleaning than usual, not that the wolverine minded the work.

The tent flap whispered open, and the weasel-like feline entered.

“I was wondering when you’d show,” the hunter murmured, his voice a deep, pleasant rumble.

“I’m here now,” came the reply, then he felt the still-damp cat slip in next to him. One miraculously uncalloused hand slid over the mustelid’s side, fingers lifting the fur on his stomach.

He opened his eyes, and looked over at his partner. “What are you doing?”

“We are partners, yes?” Eyra’s voice was calm. “You’ve run me ragged today, it’s only fair you help me recharge.”

Something firm was pressing against his hip, and that hand slid lower, giving him a squeeze that sent blood rushing south through his weary body. “I thought you were tired?”

“You have no idea.” A moan escaped the smaller male, the tanner’s weasel-like muzzle buried in the thick, dark fur on the wolverine’s chest. “I could sleep for a week.” Another squeeze, the feline’s voice sank to a husky, pleading purr. “That’s why I need you, Vinnu. I need you so badly.”

He laid one large hand on his partner’s head, sending a shiver through the mage’s body as he rubbed one of the round ears between his fingers. “You need rest more than anything.”

The cat growled, was suddenly straddling his midsection, amber eyes locking with the wolverine’s dark ones. “Let me be the judge of that. Either you fuck me until neither of us can think straight, or I will be asleep for a week.” Eyra’s thin arms were trembling, fingers digging into the wolverine’s fur.

He hadn’t expected that from the tanner-mage.

“I need you.” It was little more than a whisper, now, and the feline didn’t seem able to stop trembling.

He was still hesitating, unsure how to react to this turn of events.

“Please, Vinnu.”

It seemed like not all of him was quite so hesitant; the cat’s tail brushed across half-hard naked flesh and reminded him of just how long it had been since he’d enjoyed the company of someone other than his own right hand. With a rumble, he nodded, and laid his hands gently on his partner’s hips.

There was not a woman he could have paid to ride him like the tanner did that night, nor could he ever dream of having enough money to pay her if she did exist. If any of his hesitation persisted that long, it was gone as he saw the way his partner practically glowed when he came inside him. This had to be right.

They were both exhausted as they drifted off to sleep, the much smaller male snuggled up on top of the wolverine, the mustelid’s strong arms wrapped tightly around him. But it was exhaustion of the body, something that a good night’s sleep would cure, rather than exhaustion of the spirit that would need to recover over a much longer time span.

And thus, their partnership deepened.

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