"Ichabod once claimed to care about me too, but he moved on."
Abraham had said the words merely to convince Katrina the same had happened upon her; that Ichabod had moved on from her as well. It was meant to unnerve her, get her to stay and yet it was Abraham now who lie alone in his room, fighting a strong wave of nostalgia and resentment. He'd never admit his growing loneliness aloud, but oh was it painful.
240 years had passed since his friendship with Ichabod abruptly met its end. Even after so long the anger was still raw and overwhelming, just as it'd been the moment of Ichabod's confession. In truth, what was Abraham really angrier about; the fact that Katrina had cheated on him with his best friend or the fact that Ichabod rather Katrina over him?
1773
The clash of metal against metal reverberated off the walls, two men in white engaged in a mock sword fight, each parry and attack smooth and perfectly executed. Bodies in perfect rhythm, in tune to the other's every intention, almost akin to a dance, perfected by impassioned lovers.
Watchful eyes locked on one another as their dangerous dance went on, Abraham's offense forcing Ichabod back several feet before the clash was reversed, Abraham now on the retreat.
This pattern of give and take remained unbroken even as Ichabod began, "I've thought about your offer."
"Oh?" Another lunge and parry. The danse macabre continued.
Ichabod nodded, "I've decided to enlist."
Abraham's shock left him vulnerable for but a second. Just enough time for Ichabod to strike. One more swift lunge and the tip of his sword was planted against Abraham's chest.
"I'll have you know it was my decision and mine alone."
Both men took several steps backward and began again. This round unfolded a bit more energetically, the rhythm of their previous focus lost. With a few more confident thrusts and an ill-timed parry, Ichabod found the other man's blade against his throat.
Abraham grinned, "You'd rather make history, after all. You've become your own man!"
Eyes locked and neither made any move to continue the fight.
"My reason may be less... poetic." Ichabod admitted.
Abraham inched closer, lowering his voice, "Tell me."
"I... did not wish to lose my friend."
Abraham laughed to himself, than carefully closed the distance between them as he whispered, "I think we've long since passed mere 'friendship'."
His lips ever so lightly ghosted over Ichabod's. The faintest of kisses.
"Nonetheless, Abraham... I care far too much to simply let you go." Ichabod said after reclaiming his stolen breath.
Abraham nodded, "Very well. We'll go together."
"We depart for America come morning, Ichabod!" Abraham exclaimed, taking a seat beside Ichabod at the bar. When the bartender came to inquire his order of drink, Abraham waved him off.
Ichabod smiled at his friend, "Indeed. How invigorating a thought."
"How about we celebrate? Make the most of our final night in England?"
"I am currently in the process of celebration already." Ichabod held up his beer for Abraham to see before taking a swig.
Abraham shook his head and pressed closer, "Not like that. I was thinking... something more intimate."
Ichabod caught the lustful gleam in his friend's eye. He couldn't fight the stirrings of arousal in his gut under such an intense gaze, especially not with Abraham's hand rubbing his thigh.
Not long after this Ichabod found himself led to Abraham's quarters, where the very second the door shut behind him, he was pushed up against the wall, hands firm at his hips. Lips united, immediately taking to the familiar, passionate rhythm reserved for just such privacy.
For a time they became one, bodies pressed close, tongues sliding against one other. Lingering beer only sweetened the taste, making the kiss all the more overwhelming. Ichabod completely forgot to breathe until Abraham broke away.
Not a moment passed before Ichabod pulled him back, their kiss transforming into something much sloppier, wrought with animalistic desperation. Hands roamed, one running through Ichabod's hair to pull out the ribbon, letting thick, wavy hair free to fall around his shoulders.
Ichabod's hands tangled in the soft fabric of Abraham's shirt, struggling to pull it off the man.
"Patience, Ichabod." Abraham whispered, throwing his shirt aside once it was finally removed. Then he pressed up more closely against his lover.
Already, Abraham could feel the heat of Ichabod's growing arousal through his breeches, impatient for the pleasures sure to ensue. He rubbed his own against this, earning a pleasured whimper from Ichabod.
The sound sent a shiver down Abraham's spine. He was struggling, fighting the urge to simply tear the clothes off his friend and take him mercilessly then and there. Rough and quick as per usual. The mere thought of Ichabod against the wall, ass bare, breeches around his ankles, was almost too tempting to pass up.
Yet this time... he wanted them to take their time. Who knew when they'd be given another opportunity to act upon these desires?
Of course, that restraint was requiring more and more effort as Ichabod rutted against him. Abraham took his sweet time removing the man's shirt and leading him to the bedroom, where he shoved Ichabod down upon the bed.
Ichabod watched as Abraham slowly, ever carefully undid his shoes and breeches, stripping himself in such a teasing fashion. Ichabod's lust only grew, ever more impatient, undressing himself much more hastily.
He took hold of Abraham and pulled him atop himself, nipping the man's lip until he was allowed entry to the man's mouth, where he explored thoroughly with his tongue, committing to memory every taste, every sensation, even the sound of Abraham's heavy breathing each time they separated for air.
Finally, Abraham untangled himself from Ichabod, crossing the room to a dresser where he retrieved a small vial of olive oil in which he'd kept just for these occasions. He returned to Ichabod atop the bed while unscrewing the cap of the vial, slicking two fingers with the liquid inside.
He let his slicked hand wander downwards, gently rubbing and prodding Ichabod's entrance. The man shuddered under his touch, the smallest grunt escaping him as Abraham eased a finger inside him.
The second finger soon joined the second, and Abraham kissed along Ichabod's throat as he scissored and curled his fingers. Ichabod arched beneath him, whimpering and gasping right in his ear. An enticing sight indeed. Abraham found he really enjoyed the power he held over his friend in these moments, the control.
Soon the fingers were removed, Abraham wrapping Ichabod's legs around his waist as he aligned himself. Ichabod let out a low groan as he found himself filled to his limit, hands clenching the bed sheets underneath him.
Abraham began, thrusts slow and steady, relishing Ichabod's moans and squirms underneath him. He leaned to trail kisses along the man's throat, his collarbone, every inch of bare skin he could reach.
"Please... Abraham..." Ichabod said between heavy pants.
"Please what, Ichabod?" Abraham whispered in the man's ear, pausing in his movements, still fully sheathed inside the man.
Ichabod glared at him, "I refuse to beg."
"Well I could just refuse to continue our little dance then." Abraham pulled out slowly, catching Ichabod's sharp gaze.
"Oh for the love of- just... please, Abraham, go faster!"
A deep moan resounded from his throat as Abraham took up a much more brutal pace. Pulling out far enough that only his tip remained before pounding again into Ichabod's warmth, each time brushing that spot inside that drove Ichabod absolutely mad.
Ichabod was bombarded by wave after wave of ecstasy, hands removed from the sheets to claw desperately at Abraham's back, leaving long streaks of red, torn skin.
It wasn't long before the warmth began to buildup within Ichabod's groin. He fought it as long as he could, but his strength gave out when he felt the telltale twitching of Abraham's cock within him as the man found release. With a final drawn-out moan Ichabod spilled, seed coating their stomachs.
Once the height of his orgasm had passed, Abraham pulled out to lie beside the breathless Ichabod, pulling the man close. Entangled like such they would remain until dawn, when they would head for the ship that would take them to America.
America... where a new life would begin. Where in the hope that they could prosper, they would instead be torn apart, relationship shredded and transformed into something much darker. Something that in some 240 years, both would deeply regret.