Yeah, sad innit? And I’ve decided that if it is going to be the very last I may as well stick with Gwion and Cynfal for it. I will continue to make a weekly excerpt post but I might sign up for one of the alternatives. There’s a Wednesday one that looks small and fun, and a slightly one on Saturdays but that’s solely M/M erotica so I don’t see much point. What I might do is do the Regency romance parody on Wednesdays and pirates on Sundays, becaus i’m being worse than usual abut keeping up with posting. It’s the winter. i want to hibernate. I think I’m part hedgehog.
Any how …
Carrying on from last week. Cynfal finally managed to finagle his way into Gwion’s bed and a good time was had by all. However, when Cynfal woke up he was alone. Please note – this is how it arrived on the page during Nanowrimo 2011 and it needs a damned good edit. Please note, also, that it’s not six sentences. What the hell? What’s the worst that can happen?
Cynfal stretched and grinned at the ceiling. Whether Gwion was uncomfortable or not Cynfal had cause for good cheer. He couldn’t remember a better ride – that strength, the neediness. Please all the gods it wasn’t a one off!
Dressed and with the bowl in his hand he went to the door and looked out.
Wrapped against the chill, Gwion was rubbing over the white pony’s coat with a twist of straw. Cynfal watched him for a moment, enjoying the graceful movements and the content look on the faces of both man and beast. Gwion was whistling through his teeth, a simple tune to which, Cynfal knew, there were some very scandalous words. Cynfal waited until the stanza was finished then cleared his throat and stepped out into the cold. It was wet under foot and the sky was heavy with clouds but it didn’t feel like rain.
“Good morning,” he said and took a sip from the porage bowl. “You make a good breakfast. Thank you.”
Gwion had coloured when he heard his voice and ducked his head in a sharp nod before replying. “Morning,” he said. “I did Otter already. Your turn tomorrow.”
Cynfal grinned and went to take the wisp, his hand engulfing Gwion’s to caress his cold fingers. “My pony, by your courtesy, so my responsibility. I’m sorry I slept in. I’m not used to such late nights.”
Gwion met his gaze then, cheeks flaming and Cynfal thought he might speak, but he gave up the wisp without a struggle and went to pick up a saddle.
Cynfal sighed. So that would be the way of it – what happened between the covers was their secret. So be it. Nobody who looked at either of them today – Gwion had a whole new set to his shoulders – could fail to guess the best of it.
Thanks, darlings. It has been fun.