Bass poured three fingers of whiskey into Jason's cup and tipped the rest of the bottle into his own before giving his glass a quick tip towards Jason and announcing, "You did good work today, kid."
"Thanks," Jason said. His tone was flat and his eyes never left Charlie. She was inside the bar across the street, theoretically hustling a game of pool, really mining for information, while Bass and Jason kept an eye on her. Their second floor hotel room across the street had the right sight lines to observe but their distance let the information move more freely.
"Drink," Bass ordered.
"I'm OK with it," Jason said, never taking his eyes off Charlie. "I knew she had probably moved on. I didn't guess it would be with you, but... whatever."
"I didn't steal your girl," Bass said.
When Jason didn't answer, Bass continued anyway. "She's not even my girl. I just watch her back. Sometimes we fuck. Not often."
Jason snorted. "You're preaching to the choir, brother." He met Bass' eyes then and really let out a laugh. "What is it about her that makes men into her slaves?"
"I'm not her slave," Bass snapped. "She does whatever is best for her and hers. I understand that."
"She's coming out," Jason said as he rose from his perch by the window. She'd be back in the room in two minutes and he wanted to have at least half his whiskey down before he had to settle into the room for the night with his ex-lover and ex-President. He'd been able to claim his own space around the campfire since meeting them on the road to New Philly, but with four walls penning him in, he felt ready to run for it. If he'd had somewhere to go he might have.
Jason slugged back the drink and tried to look unaffected while staring down Bass. The man was everything he wanted to be: confident, independent and loved by Charlie. If not loved at least tolerated with some affection and fucked. It was more than he'd been able to get for himself recently.
When Bass met his eyes, Jason quickly looked away. He couldn't even feel jealous, just cowed. Bass crossed the room in three quick strides and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, forcing Jason's head up. His hard blue gaze cut through bullshit like a shovel, making Jason feel even more like a crumb catching pet than a member of the team. Bass' thumb rubbed hard strokes along the tight muscles of Jason neck, massaging in the tension instead of releasing it. His fingers tightened and he pulled the younger man down into a hard kiss.
Jason jerked his head back, but the hand at his neck was firm and the lips against his were certain and expert. The beard was strange, prickly where he was used to skin softer than his own, but the commands in his lips were recognizable. Jason knew about orders, knew how to surrender to someone else's will and just obey. He'd always thought he liked chasing girls. Being led was new and immediately intoxicating. He surrendered and let Bass lead.
Jason didn't hear the latch on the door quietly click open. He was too focused on the feeling of Bass' callused hands on his skin as they slipped under his shirt and tugged it off over his head. Jason took a short sharp breath when he felt the soft crush of bare breasts pressing into his back.
Bass' left hand continued to stroke Jason's side as his right pulled Charlie around Jason for a kiss. "This is what you wanted, right?"
"This is even better than I hoped," she answered.
Jason leaned his head against the cool glass of the window and tried to collect his thoughts. The whole experience had been unexpected, but the end, though amazing in the moment, now bothered him. He'd forgotten Charlie was even there. She'd been done, sated and tired, and had shoved them off of her. They'd fallen on each other with abandon. He was used to holding back, taking care not to hurt the smaller person with him. This time he got as good as he gave; hard muscle, firm grips, and staring into another man's eyes at the moment he finally let go. Charlie never met his eyes when she let him have the rest of her body.
"Come back to bed," Bass ordered.
Bass stood only a few feet away but the distance between them felt vast. Too much had happened too quickly.
"Kid, come back to bed."
"My name is Jason."
"Jason, come back to bed."
"What do I even call you?"
"Most people call me Bass."
"I've called you General Monroe since I was ten."
"How old are you now?"
"Twenty-three."
"You're grown. Call me Bass."
"You go back to bed, Bass."
Bass shoved him against the wall and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. Jason gasped as Bass' fingers dug into the bruises he'd left earlier. "You really do like that, don't you? Someone else taking charge and making you do what you want to do anyway. Kid, Jason, I'm cold and tired and having you over here staring out the window is interrupting my sleep. Get back in bed."
Jason tried to meet Bass' stare, but his eyes fell to his lips. They were chapped and surrounded by whiskers that Jason could still feel on his skin. "I'm not gay," he said. He wanted it to sound firm and certain. He was disappointed in himself.
Bass released his grip and stalked away. "I've already made this mistake once. I'm not doing it again. Fine. You had a one off night. It'll never happen again. Charlie can sleep in the middle of the bed, a womanly tit buffer between us. Quit stalking around the room and go to sleep."
He did go back to bed. He didn't sleep.
Four days on a wagon was a long time when no one felt like talking. They hadn't been chatty before, but one incredible night had led into several agonizing days. Finding a bridge to cross the Red River had been a bitch. They were off course and running two days behind schedule. If they were late, Miles' tendency to worry and Rachel's proclivity for action would likely combine in ways they'd all regret.
To make up the time, they were running from sunrise until sunset, rotating sleep and duties. The guards from the previous and upcoming night each took turns trying to catch a few hours sleep to the unsteady bounce and roll of the wagon while the other two rode upfront, one driving the horses and the other serving as lookout. Charlie had just roused and, after a few tense pleasantries, sent Monroe back to rest.
"How do I know you two just had the worst wagon ride since he hacked me out of Raperville?"
Jason figured if he failed to respond she'd give up, but she continued to peck away at conversation, finally getting a rise out of him with, "I think you two just need to fuck it out."
"What?"
"You turned into a moody, distant little shit after that night in the hotel. You need to just do it again, and more and better, and deal with the fact that you liked it."
He didn't answer.
"A lot," she prodded.
"I'm not gay," he stated. He'd said it in his head often lately, but this was only the second time he'd said it aloud.
"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked.
"I'm just not," he said sullenly.
She tried a humorous approach. "If having his dick in my ass doesn't make me gay, then I don't see what changes if he puts it in yours."
"Shut up, Charlie."
It didn't pass unnoticed that those were the sharpest words he'd ever spoken to her. She did like him in her own way. She could count on him to cover her back and keep her best interests in mind. She also knew that the way things were now he'd leave her once they got to New Philly. She didn't want to manipulate him, so she'd have to push these two idiots through this.
She put her hand on his arm, waiting for him to look at her before she spoke. "He can be someone for you that I can't be. You two… fit together better than either of you does with me."
"We both fit in you just fine," Jason said.
"Yes, you do," she agreed. "The three of us had a very fine time together, but," she hesitated to admit what she'd seen. She'd stayed in the same bed after she tapped out, but what had passed between the two men hadn't included her in ways that transcended the physical. "I think the two of you had an amazing time."
"Why would I want to give you up?" Jason asked.
She leaned her head on his shoulder, the bump of the wagon making the gesture more awkward than intimate. "First, you wouldn't need to give me up, and second, you don't have me."
He shrugged, knocking her head off his shoulder.
She continued, "Neither does he. Feel better?"
"What do you see in him?"
"He's a good fighter and a good lay. That's all I'm really up for at the moment."
"Is that how you'd describe me?"
"You're my friend who's a good fighter and a good lay," she said.
"Thanks," he said in a tone that conveyed something a long way from gratitude.
She said, "He could be your friend. You're a lot alike."
"Because we fight and fuck well."
Charlie stopped herself before she said, "Because you both love desperately. Because being the target of your affections is smothering. Because you both want someone to love you as much as you can love them."
Aloud she said, "You should give him a chance."
Jason poked at the campfire and tried to ignore the man just one log over. What was it about Bass that threw him off balance? Memories of the hotel flared within him whenever Bass came too near. Jason had been able to focus on fighting during the few bandit attacks on their wagons, but, later, when he tried to shove aside memories of the hotel with memories of Bass' sword work, he found it didn't calm him.
Jason looked up and caught Bass staring at him. The older man didn't blink or look away. His eyes roamed over Jason's body and Jason straightened his posture and broadened his shoulders, preening before he even realized he was doing it. Jason let his posture sag before deciding to both give up and move forward. He moved over a log, sitting down beside Bass and tried to catch Bass' stare with his own. His boldness faltered under Bass' unyielding gaze. He stammered, "Charlie thinks we should talk."
Bass held his stare. "Charlie thinks we should fuck. Princess Insatiable had a hell of a time in the hotel. She wants more, but she can't have it if you won't play along."
"What do you think?" Jason asked.
"I think life is long stretches of misery and boredom interrupted by bursts of violence. If you can find someone who adds a little happiness to your life then you hold on with both hands."
Jason was sure the hotel had been better, more significant, for him than for Bass. The man was a mystery. The president who'd visited his school classes in Philly with a smile was the same man who'd led the noble slaughter at Trenton and had later quietly executed his closest associates. Trembling in his hands was to be expected. That he might feel something in return seemed less likely. "Back in the hotel, did I make you happy?" he asked.
"Yeah. You did," Bass answered.
"Then why didn't you try to hold on to me?"
"Because chasing someone who isn't willing to admit what makes him happy and doesn't want to be caught just makes you more miserable. I learned that the hard way. I won't do it again." Bass took a sip from his flask and stared into the fire.
After a long pause, Jason screwed up his courage and spoke. "What about someone who just doesn't know how?"
"Know how to what?"
"Any of it," Jason said quietly.
"You willing to learn?"
"Yeah."
"Then kiss me," Bass said.
"What?"
"You rejected me, kid. It's your move. If you're willing to get over your bullshit then prove it. Lean in and kiss me. The rest isn't complicated and I'll make sure you like learning it, but I'm not a siren luring you to your big, gay death. If you want me, come get me."
Jason's eyes dropped to Bass' lips. They'd felt so different from Charlie's against his own. He wanted that feeling again. He whispered his question, "Do you want me to?"
"How can you be so brave when we're under attack and such a chickenshit now?"
Jason looked up, expecting to see condemnation and judgment. What he found instead let him speak. "You're not the only one who's spent too long chasing approval you'll never get."
Bass leaned towards him. "You've still got to meet me halfway. I'm not dragging you into this."
Jason leaned towards Bass, his body and mind finally agreeing to seek what he needed. The sharp prickle of a beard against his skin and Bass' lips against his made his breath hitch. He soon felt light-headed and wondered if it was oxygen deprivation or just the overwhelming feeling of having everything you wanted all at once.
Hands and lips roamed until they slid off their logs and onto the dirt with their legs tangled around each other. The damp ground soaked through their clothes, chilling them, and smoke from the fire left them coughing when the wind changed.
Bass broke the kiss, one hand on Jason's cheek and one on the scruff of his neck, forcing the younger man only far enough away so he could speak. "Come on. We're moving to the wagon."
Jason cast a nervous glance at the wagon. He was cold and damp and the bedrolls in the wagon were warm and dry. Bass' kisses had turned his thought to no more than shifting colors and memories of his world exploding in pleasure in the hotel. Still, Jason was a little afraid.
"What happens on the wagon?" he asked.
"What do you want to happen?"
Jason couldn't answer. He didn't have the experience or the vocabulary for this. He wanted Bass to block out the world again, to make it seem like there was nothing but the two of them and touch and motion. He wanted to again feel like the most important person in the world to someone strong and confident. He wanted those hard, blue eyes to cut into him and find something that made their gaze go soft.
Bass was already up in the wagon, pulling padding and blankets out of the trunks and setting up what passed for a bed under the low canopy of the wagon. Quickly, he shucked off his muddy boots and wet pants before climbing under the covers. "Get in here," he ordered.
Jason complied, at first content to ride the waves of a new sea. When he felt Bass' fingers sliding along his crack, panic tightened his stomach. "I'm the girl," he fretted.
Bass bit Jason's shoulder and gripped his cock. "Charlie's the girl. You can fuck her later. You're a man. My man right now."
Jason tangled his fingers in Bass' hair and pulled away enough to catch his gaze. "Your man?" he asked.
Bass' list of counted sins was long, but he wasn't regularly a liar. He did, all too often, speak without fully considering his words. "I could punch you in the face and call you mine and you'd still love me for it, wouldn't you?"
Jason was too used to being hit. "You did have me beaten once. It wasn't enough to make me leave the militia."
Bass' bravado collapsed at the memory of all the men who'd been loyal to him, many now dead, too many of those by his own hand. Jason had given a stable hand a beer and gotten the kid talking about Charlie's last known location. Bass charged Jason with bribery and treason. Jason would be dead now instead of naked beneath him if his parents hadn't intervened. "I was in a bad place then. I was a bastard. I'm trying not to be one anymore." He buried his face in Jason's neck, kissing long healed bruises and trying to trace a path of redemption over his cheeks.
Jason soaked in the attention and wrapped his arms tightly around his repentant lover. "It's OK. I forgive you."
"You what?"
"I forgive you. You don't plan to hurt me again, do you?"
"I never plan to. It still happens."
"Then we better grab our happiness while we can," Jason answered.
Charlie woke them as she rooted around the bags in the back of the wagon seeking breakfast. "I hate you both," she announced. "I was stuck on lookout all night while you two were back here going at it like dogs in heat."
Bass sat up and glared at her. Jason propped himself up on an elbow and didn't bother to wipe the smile off his face. He was exhausted but happy, and the parts of him that hurt this morning were only physical.
Charlie quickly assessed the duo before crawling in between them. To Bass she said, "It's your turn to drive, right?"
"You know it is," he responded.
"Good. I'm keeping your boyfriend back here with me."
"Why is that Charlotte?" Bass asked.
"I heard you purring like a lion last night. Whatever he did to you, I want it done to me."
"I think you're worried I stole your pet."
"Did you?"
Bass didn't answer her but instead looked past her to Jason. "I guess you get to fuck while I drive."
Jason's smile faded. "Are you done with me?"
"No, kid." Bass said, running a hand through his hair, "I'm giving you the gift of pussy. Do you want to fuck the pretty girl?"
"Yeah. I do."
Bass grabbed an apple as he climbed out of the wagon. "You do that. I'll drive. You can both pay me back later."
"You could stay back here with us," Jason offered.
"No," Charlie said. "He can't. This round is about me. Tonight we'll get a hotel and it can be about him."
"And then what?" Jason asked.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm counting on you two to make the trip to New Philly a lot more fun than you made my first visit to Old Philly."
Charlie had seen a lot of old America in the last year and would see more in the years to come, but the journey to New Philly would always be her favorite.