Diarmuid wiped a bit of sweat off his forehead, looking up at the sky. It was a beautiful cerulean blue, nary a cloud to mar it. Nor to give him any shade and he damned well wanted that at the moment.
"This country is gorgeous but it's too fucking hot," Diarmuid grumbled as he lifted his helmet, trying to get a bit of air. He paused to look longingly at an olive tree giving plenty of shade. If only they could take a break under there! But he knew better, their commander would give them both a well-deserved boot up the ass if they tried.
"Stop complaining. There's no sign of trouble," Archer said calmly, as they slipped easily through the brush. They were scouts, looking for any sign of trouble and really damned good at it, complaining aside. They were also a pair of foreign mercenaries and therefore completely expendable.
"That's good, I'm getting sick to death of being a damned target," Diarmuid muttered, glancing at his arm. The new scar there would likely vanish when they went back to the bubble but it might not, too. "Why are we here?" Diarmuid breathed that and felt more than saw Archer's shrug.
Who knows? Diarmuid frowned at the transition to non-verbal communication. Archer usually did that when something was up and he sharpened his attention to the surroundings. I just don't feel like talking, it's too hot.
Hah! Still, he wasn't going to let his vigilance up. Something might take the opportunity to stab them. We've been here so long though. Almost five years now.
'Here' was classical Greece. Archer and Diarmuid were serving beneath Phillip the Second, King of Macedonia. They were mercenaries and looked down on, on account of it. Archer was a Cretan, or so they claimed, but was sneered at for being an 'ethiope'. Diarmuid was back to calling himself Daud and he was sneered at for being very obviously not Greek or Macedonian or anything these people knew. It was damned annoying really.
What really frosted the biscuit, though, was the simple fact that their skills were beyond reproach. Archer was the finest damned archer on the planet, even with nothing but a simple bow with heavy arrows. Diarmuid was easily among the finest swordsmen these people had seen. Damned good with a lance, too, but that wasn't very useful. The Macedonians favored formations that made his clever footwork irrelevant. That same clever footwork and ability to sneak around made him invaluable as a scout, though. And Archer was every bit as fine.
I'm sure we'll eventually find out why we're here. For now we should simply enjoy it, Archer said and Diarmuid nodded. Despite the constant campaigning this was almost relaxing. The two Counter-Guardians were sealed. They could only use human level abilities, until the World deigned to give them full access again. Diarmuid could use the runes and often did, but they didn't have the oomph anymore. Generally he employed the healing ones to stave off infections, nothing more.
I can't believe what we're scouting for though. They actually take this seriously? Diarmuid had a bit of trouble wrapping his head around it. They could be off fighting a war, like they were this time last year. Instead, he and Archer had gotten pulled out of their unit and passed around like a jug of wine at a party. Finally they'd been dragged in to see someone who fancied himself a general and sent to gather evidence of… farming. Apparently, the land here was supposed to remain unspoiled, devoted to Apollo. It seemed utterly nonsensical to him.
As if you're one to talk, Irishman. Hey! Pay attention, this is dangerous. It was and Diarmuid wasn't going to deny it. The 'farmers' here knew they'd be in trouble if they were found out. And given that this was some kind of political power play they'd no doubt have weapons.
They did need to eat, though, and they paused for lunch beneath an olive tree. Diarmuid was finally able to take off his helmet, fluffing his sweat damp hair. Archer wordlessly passed him a chunk of bread and Diarmuid took it with a smile. He had a nice bit of cheese coated in wax. Chopping it neatly in half, Diarmuid passed part of it to Archer. They both settled in to eat, needing to fill the hole. Sealed as they were, food provided most of their sustenance.
As they ate, Diarmuid watched Archer. He was eating as he always did, efficiently and mechanically, his honey brown eyes unfocused. Diarmuid thought he looked particularly handsome today, his white hair moving a bit in the breeze and his tan skin lightly dewed with sweat.
If there's one thing I love about this place it's how they don't blink an eye at the two of us, Diarmuid thought and Archer blinked, focusing on him before smiling, that tiny quirk of his lips that Diarmuid loved so much.
Yes, that is very nice. To the classical Greeks, men laying with men was taken for granted. In fact, it was almost idealized when it came to warriors. They believed it made the men stronger, formed powerful bonds. Diarmuid could see that although he thought the simple brotherhood of the Fianna had been every bit as strong. Archer really was looking wonderful though. Perhaps they could – We're not having sex under the olive tree.
"Damnit! Stop reading my mind," Diarmuid grumbled although he was sure Archer had only gotten that from his face. Archer chuckled softly before standing smoothly. Diarmuid sighed and pulled himself up, settling his helmet back on before sloshing his canteen. Hmm. "We should look for water." Wouldn't be hard to find it but they needed a fill up.
"Yes," Archer murmured, pulling himself up and putting back on his helmet. "You're sure you can do this?" There was some concern in his honey brown eyes although he was composed as always. Diarmuid grimaced.
"Yes, although I'll likely regret it." They were talking about his runes. The asshole who'd sent them out had heard stories of Diarmuid's runes and had quizzed him thoroughly about exactly what he could do. Diarmuid had perhaps revealed a bit too much of what the air runes, in particular, could do. "I'll be fine." He'd recover, it would just hurt.
"Hm." Archer frowned a touch but said no more. They headed out again, searching for the evidence.
They found it shortly after that, a farm that was clearly within the range of Delphi. Diarmuid was careful to position himself in a spot that gave a vantage of the temple before raising his hand and tracing an air runes. This part required no great power and the air rune glowed for a moment before Diarmuid snatched it out of the air, embedding it into his flesh. It burned briefly before vanishing, becoming part of him for a time. Bringing it out would complete the spell and that was what would cost him.
"Too bad we don't have a cell phone," Archer murmured and Diarmuid nodded.
"Then we could report back right now." Rather than having to wait until they got back. "And send the pictures as an attachment… ah, might as well wish for the moon." Then Diarmuid switched to non-verbal communication. Is there a well and do we dare use it?
Yes, over there. I'll get it, you're useless, Archer's tone was affectionate though and Diarmuid sighed before settling down. What class was he this time? Saber or Lancer? He wasn't Caster, that was all he knew. Archer might even be Assassin, they didn't really know since the World had incarnated them right into sealed state. If Diarmuid was betting, though, he thought he was Saber and Archer was Archer. He could be wrong, though, particularly about himself. He was weakest with the runes as Saber.
Either way, though, Archer's stealth was vastly superior, learned from Hassan himself. Diarmuid waited patiently as Archer skillfully used the cover. The only bad part was using the well itself but he managed it well, getting them water swiftly. Then he was back in the brush and Diarmuid breathed a bit easier.
Then they were heading back and Diarmuid didn't let his guard down. It was tempting, but that was the problem. Too many scouts made the mistake of thinking they could relax on the way home and it just wasn't so.
They didn't make it back before night fell and this wasn't the modern era. There were no lights save the moon, no flashlights to light there way. They paused briefly to consult.
Shall we press on? Diarmuid could tell Archer was ambivalent about it. His own feelings were very mixed as he looked up at the moon. It was a clear night and the moon was half-full, giving plenty of light. They could press on but…
I don't think so. Too many rocks, too easy to have an accident. In daylight there was no chance of slipping and spraining something. Or worse, breaking a bone. And they would heal like humans. Even if Diarmuid put everything he had into a rune it would only speed things along a little. Let's camp. Although not a real one. They'd just find a good place to curl up together, sharing body heat beneath a blanket.
Well, they'd eventually share body heat. First, they wanted to do something else.
Nothing messy, we don't have rags, Archer said practically and Diarmuid smiled as he rested a hand on his lover's belly.
Or oil. That'd be a daft thing to take on a scouting mission, the jar would likely break. Diarmuid undid the pin, a fibula, holding Archer's tunic in place. Ancient Greek clothing was ridiculously simple although he took care to put the pin back in the fabric. It was all too easy for them to become lost and they were not cheap.
Any thought of pins went to the wayside as Archer grasped his bang and pulled him into a deep kiss. Diarmuid enjoyed every moment, savoring the feeling of Archer's body against him. His own pin was undone and the clothing slid from his body, puddling on Archer until it was swept aside. Archer dropped the pin into the discarded folds and then they were skin against skin, sliding smoothly against each other as they explored. They both knew every inch of the other's body but it didn't matter. Under the light of the moon, in these ancient hills, it all felt new again.
Diarmuid blinked as Archer sent him a wordless image, the two of them engaged in… Diarmuid felt the heat in his face and knew he was blushing. Growling softly, he nipped Archer's shoulder, and felt the shake that was a silent laugh. Still growling, he obeyed the instructions, moving off Archer and shifting his body around.
When Diarmuid was done, Archer was beneath him, his body positioned so they could pleasure each other. Archer's cock was heavy and erect and Diarmuid easily went down on it. As he took it in his mouth, he felt Archer doing the same to him, the sweet pleasure of being inside Archer's throat. Ah, it was wonderful!
Diarmuid half-closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet musk of his lover as he gently stroked the line of Archer's balls. He hollowed his cheeks, giving Archer more suction and felt the other man doing the same to him. Gentle hands caressed his testicles and Diarmuid moaned deep in his throat, aware that the vibrations would torment Archer. And it did. Archer tried to jerk up but Diarmuid had a hand firmly on his hip, holding him back. Too much of that and he would choke.
As they continued the pleasure became more and more intense. Diarmuid found that spot behind Archer's balls, a place he knew was sensitive, and pressed on the skin. Archer arched up and this time Diarmuid didn't stop him, prepared to take that length as deep as he could. Diarmuid managed it, his nose almost brushing Archer's balls. Then his eyes went wide as he felt the tightness around his cock increase, Archer's wetted finger sliding into his ass. Was he…? Diarmuid moaned, low in his throat, as Archer massaged his prostate. God that felt so good!
I'm going to cum, Diarmuid thought, his mental voice breathless.
Me too do it. The desperate need in Archer's thought took Diarmuid over the edge. He felt his balls tighten, then that beautiful moment when his body found satisfaction. Archer's cock throbbed hard in his mouth and Diarmuid felt it erupt, swallowing the flood of semen. With his cock so deep in his throat it actually went down easier, or so it seemed to him. Was that odd? Well, he wasn't going to ask anyone…
When they were both finished, Diarmuid slowly pulled away. Feeling exhausted, he moved off Archer before gazing down at him. The moonlight seemed to shine on pure white hair and Archer smiled at him, his eyes half-lidded and tired and oh god was there a bit of semen on his cheek? Diarmuid gently wiped the white fluid away before settling beside his lover and grabbing his discarded clothes. Making sure the fibula was hooked to something, Diarmuid pulled the cloth over them to act as a blanket. It wasn't too warm but this was high summer. It would be more than enough to keep the night breezes at bay.
Exhausted and satisfied, they curled together and soon slept.