Conrad groaned as he rejoined the land of the living. Oh Great One he hurt, his lower back and butt throbbed with an unusual stabbing pain. His head was currently pounding and the dim light was like a blade stabbing into his partly lidded eyes. His lungs ached, and it was hard to breath with the crushing weight that hovered over him. Sharp and scratchy stalks of hay irritated his naked skin further aggravating his already scratched back. The air around him reeked of stale alcohol. It only took him a minute or two to recognize the slowly waking man, who was currently sprawled, naked, across him.

He moaned and shoved the other man's shoulder weakly with one hand. "Yozak, get off me."

Yozak snorted and opened his eyes before closing them with a harsh, throaty, whimper of pain. "Great One, how much did I have to drink last night?" he muttered.

"I don't know, but I would like you to kindly get off of me you overgrown oaf." Conrart retorted sharply.

Yozak blinked and looked down at him, seeming to notice him for the first time, "sorry," he retorted mildly, attempting to pull his larger frame off of Conrart.

Both men cried out in pain, surprise, and mild alarm at the sharp sensation of their entangled pubic hair being pulled apart. They both froze, startled. Conrart, eyes wide with shock, gave voice to what they both were thinking. "What the hell?"

Yozak, shifted slightly winching as the slight movement pulled sharply on their somehow entangled hairs. Bracing as much of his weight as he could on one hand, he slid his free hand between their equally naked bodies; carefully he scrapped at the skin just above his groin, and to his surprise Conrart yelped. "Sorry," he whispered as he pulled his hand out from between them. He gazed down at what he held lightly clasped between his thumb and index finger.

He flushed an interesting shade of red, at the sight of several of his own ruddy red pubic hairs firmly cemented against several mahogany colored strands, by a familiar dried white substance.

Semen, dried, caked, semen, cemented their pubic hair together as effectively as if they'd poured a bottle of glue between the two of them before falling asleep.

"Well this is awkward," Yozak mumbled gazing down at Conrart.

Conrart glared up at him, "any ideas?" he asked after a second.

Yozak sighed, "I guess the best way to go about this is to just pull our hips apart sharply and try not to scream – anything else will be too painful."

Conrart nodded, "I agree." He said after a moment.

Yozak shifted, and caught Conrad's hips with his hands, gently pushing him down. "on the count of three."

Conrad took a deep breath and met Yozak's eyes, in that moment they where in complete agreement.

"Three." They said simultaneously, bypassing one and two altogether. Yozak jerked his hips up sharply, while Conrart pulled back. Both men bit back swear words at the sharp pain of their pubic hairs ripping free of each other, both sure that they'd lost some hair.

That done, Yozak crawled slowly backwards and sat up off to the side of his friend. Dried semen caked his crotch and spread thin tendrils up to his navel. He glanced over at Conrart, and noticed with mild astonishment that Conrart had semen caked across his stomach, his groin and a lot more of it made up a dried trail across the inside of his thighs.

Idly Yozak wondered how much of it was Conrart's and how much of it was his own. It was quite obvious that at the very least they'd both had some form of physical pleasure last night. Although he was actually fairly certain he'd fucked Conrad senseless, judging by his best friend's grimace as he slowly sat up.

"About last night?" he started mildly.

"It never happened." Conrart interjected firmly.

Yozak sighed with relief, "Good," he replied mildly "because I don't remember Shit."

Conrart looked up at him briefly, his brown eyes lost. "Neither do I." he said after a moment.

"Then maybe this isn't what it looks like," Yozak replied hopefully, while looking around the old Hayloft for their things.

Conrart whimpered as he climbed to his feet. "No this is exactly what it looks like, trust me." He said simply.

Yozak, having finally managed to find one of his saddle bags, dug through it, searching for something they could use to wipe the evidence of last night from their skin. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly. It was hardly the first time he'd had sex while drunk and hardly the first time it was a friend he woke up with, or even the first time he'd woken up with another man. However this was the first time he'd ever woken up in this situation with Conrart.

Hell he didn't even know if the other man was gay!

Conrart snorted, "with how badly my ass hurts, trust me you fucked me last night."

Yozak watched his friend limp off across the old dilapidated Hayloft in search of his things. Still digging through his own packs he finally liberated a mostly empty wineskin and a couple of old rags. Pouring a good amount of the amber liquid onto a rag he tossed both the other rag and the wineskin to Conrart. The other man took the hint and began to clean himself up using the rag and some of the left over wine.

Yozak having cleaned himself up glanced over at his friend as he searched for his clothing. And paled as he noticed the small amount of dried blood that mingled with the semen. He had to ask, even if he normally would have preferred not to know the answer. "Conrart? Have you ever been with anyone before?" he asked after a second.

Conrart paused in the act of cleaning the semen off of his legs. "Weather I have or not is really, none of your concern Yozak, but regardless, let's just say I've never played that role before."

Conrart went back to cleaning himself up, and Yozak looked away. "I- I'm sorry if I hurt you." He said after a minute, pulling on his own pants.

"I'm fine," Conrart replied firmly. "Now let's drop the Subject, last night didn't happen Remember."

Yozak nodded and began gathering his things, he blanched when he came across the small vile he kept in his bags, in case of a situation like last night. But the little vile of lub wasn't even open. He cringed, and glanced over at his best friend, realizing with suppressed horror that he had taken, Conrart dry last night.

"same rules, as always." Conrart said quietly.

Yozak, glanced over at his now mostly dressed friend. "Alright," he said after a moment. He went over to his friend and offered the other man his arm.

Conrart grasped his arm above the elbow, they met each other's gaze. This was an old ritual between them dating back to the days when they were just small children. " Last night never happen," they chorused.

By the terms of this old agreement, as far as they were concerned last night hadn't happened and they were going to treat it as such. This was an agreement not only never to speak of the events of last night, but also a declaration of immunity, if one of them got caught they would deal with whatever trouble they found themselves in alone. It was true that in certain circumstances they could and would intervene for each other. But for now at least they were going to pretend last night hadn't happened at all.

As they climbed down out of the old dilapidated hayloft, Yozak wondered how in the hell they'd gotten up there in an inebriated state without killing themselves. The ladder was rickety and not even secured to the loft and a few of the rungs were not even strong enough to support their weight.

Yozak whistled calling both of their horses, he watched his best friend quietly as Conrart swung up into his saddle, closing his eyes and hissing briefly in pain. He sighed and mounted his own horse.

It was time they went home.

~~~***~~~

Conrad bit back a groan, as he surveyed his men. New recruits… why did they all have to be so damned wet behind the ears? Really how had they even gotten into the army – most of them didn't even know which end of a sword to hold, let alone how to hold it. He bit back the scathing remark he longed to make and simply corrected the young man's stance and grip – for the umpteenth time. He wasn't normally this grumpy, but he had to admit that catching the stomach flu that had been going around the castle of late was not improving his mood.

Not one bit.

So far he'd managed not to vomit in front of anyone but it was a near thing and he didn't think he could keep it up much longer.

He gently repositioned the boy's fingers, trying to enforce the idea that wrapping one's fingers around the crossbar of the sword was a very bad idea. Abruptly he clapped a hand over his mouth as his stomach rolled violently.

He forced the urge to vomit down by the expenditure of all of his self-control and hastily called for one of his men. Andrew came at a run, ready and eager to please. He ordered the man to take over the training session until his return and left to find Gisela.

Not that he really wanted to admit to her that he'd allowed himself to get sick.

However it was better than her finding out he was sick and hadn't come to see her. He really didn't want the 'sergeant' yelling at him right now.

~~~***~~~

Conrart knocked on the frame of Gisela's office door as he entered, the last thing he wanted to do was startle the woman.

She looked up from her paperwork and offered him a small smile. "Conrart," she acknowledged quietly.

His smile turned into a small grimace as his stomach churned, "I think I may have caught that stomach flu, that's been going around." He said quietly, then added, "I was wondering if you have anything I could take to help settle m- " he stopped abruptly as his stomach heaved violently. Horrified by the knowledge that, this time at least, he really was going to vomit; he could already taste it.

Gisela thankfully was quick, and before he could do more then start to heave, she'd risen to her feet and shoved a trashcan under his nose. He grabbed it and promptly lost what was left of his breakfast. Gisela rubbed his back as he continued to dry heave into the trashcan.

"Thanks," he managed after a moment.

She nodded, "why don't you sit down, and I'll get you something for your stomach."

Conrart did as he was told, too tired to put up much of a fight.

A minute later, Gisela returned with a small glass bottle of blue powder. "I teaspoon of this every 4 hours until you no longer need it;" she told him simply, while mixing some of the blue powder into a cup of tea. "However if this doesn't pass within the next 3 days, I want you to come in for a physical." She handed him the cup, as she spoke.

He took a drink and almost immediately his stomach began to settle. He rose to his feet, thanked Gisela for her time and help, and tucking the little glass bottle into his coat pocket left the room to get back to his own job.

~~~***~~~

A.N

Okay so this fic just came over for lunch one day and wouldn't leave and I have an actual paper to write and it wouldn't leave me alone so I started to write it… Mark Twain was boring anyway. So please read and review this is going to be a short one no more than 5 chapters if that, and twain has turned my brain to mush so be nice. Also does Conrad really Just have the stomach flu? What do you think. Read and review.