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As Good Be Hang'd

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    As good be hang’d for an old sheep as a young lamb.
                                                ~English Proverbs, John Ray (1678)

“James… No. Someone could see,” Robbie protests, but he’s so breathless and aroused that his ‘no’ sounds like ‘yes’ and his throaty rasp makes the idea of being seen sound sexy.

He’d thought, when James suggested the idea of a hike and a bit of rumpy pumpy in the wild, that he was teasing. Obviously, he was mistaken. His back is pressed against a fence post, the rough-hewn edges hard and splintery through his thin cotton shirt. And his front is pressed against solid, warm muscle. James has him wrapped up, thigh between his, hands all over him, their bodies melded so tightly he’s not sure where he ends and James begins.

And James’s mouth…oh, god, James’s mouth. Lips and teeth and tongue, biting his shoulder hard enough through his shirt to leave marks. Licking and nibbling and sucking. Kissing him until he can barely breathe.

“Who’d be out here to see us?” James murmurs in his ear and follows that up with another bite, this one on his jaw. “It’s private property. And we’ve been walking for almost an hour. There’s no one around but that cute little sheep over there.”

Robbie tries to turn his head. They’d come up on the field at an oblique angle, through the wood. And with the distraction of James’s hands and the whispers of what he wants to do to Robbie, he hadn’t noticed any animals. But if there are sheep, there might be someone tending them.

James takes the opportunity to deliver a sucking bite to his jugular that’s makes him go weak in his knees. And then he turns Robbie, wraps his long arms around his chest, and presses his cock against Robbie’s arse. He’s as hard as the fence post and so hot it’s like being branded, even through four layers of clothing. “See? Just a sheep. And a cow way over there.”

Robbie draws in a breath of surprise. The scene spread out before him is almost as breath-taking as James’s lovemaking. A green pasture lit by the morning sun, lush with new spring grass and a sprinkling of early flowers. And the most adorable little lamb, burnished white gold by the light. His fluffy coat is limned in golden sunlight, his tender pink ears rendered translucent. And he’s looking at them with black eyes shiny as buttons.

However… Robbie slides his hands over James’s arms, feeling the muscles contract to hold him tighter. “It’s a lamb, city boy.”

“That’s still a sheep,” James murmurs in his ear. “And it’s not going to tell a soul what it sees me doing to you.”

He grips Robbie even tighter and whispers in his ear again, enunciating every word, his voice pitched to that phone sex timbre that he saves for making Robbie insane. “I want to lay you out naked on that fallen tree over there and…” He doesn’t say what he wants to do. He just runs the tip of his tongue from Robbie’s ear down his neck and traces a line along the edge of his collar. “Or I could take you standing against that oak. Or bend you over this fence.” He rolls his hips suggestively against Robbie’s arse.

Robbie shivers, his mouth suddenly dry. He has to swallow before he can say, “I’m not having rumpy pumpy with a little lamb watching.”

Robbie can feel the throaty rumble of James’s laughter in his bones.

“All right, then. The stream’s not far. You can sit under the waterfall naked, and I’ll sit on the boulder across and watch you.” James slides his hand down and strokes Robbie through his jeans. The movement of his fingers shows clearly what he has in mind.

Robbie’s breath catches in his throat, and his cock jumps. He thrusts towards James’s hand eagerly. It’s one of his favourite fantasies—watching James while James watches him—one of the few he’s been too shy to confess. He just hadn’t planned on doing it outdoors.

“Ohhhh…” James’s moves against him seductively. “You like that.”

Robbie nods and has to swallow again. “Yeah.”

“But what if we’re seen?” James teases.

“We’ve already been seen, by that lamb. And probably by whoever’s minding them,” Robbie replies tartly. He catches James hand and tries to steer him away from the fence. He’s eager to get on, thinking that maybe, if he plays his cards right, he can tease James into returning to their cottage.

But James holds onto him, his fingers still playing and teasing, sliding up to stroke his nipples. Back down to his cock. Back up again.

Robbie groans as his resistance burns away like morning fog caught by the spring sun. “What’s that saying…” he manages to huff out. “Might as well be hung for a goat as a… What’s the animal? Is it a sheep? Might as well be hung for a goat as a sheep?”

Against his back, James makes a sound of exasperation and straightens. His hands still. “Lamb, Robert. Lamb.”

James’s husky, seductive tone slips away. His voice takes on a singsong quality as he quotes, “‘As good be hang’d for an old sheep as a young lamb.’ That proverb was printed as far back as the 1600s, and it refers to a time when poaching was punishable by hanging. So if you’re going to be hanged for stealing an old sheep, you might as well go ahead and take a young, juicy lamb.”

The lamb cocks his head as if he’s listening to James, too. And his expression seems reproachful.

Robbie can’t help but laugh. “So all I have to do to get you to stop assaulting me in front of an innocent little lamb is to misquote a proverb?”

For a moment, James looks—dare he think it?—sheepish. But he recovers quickly and grins. “Sorry. I did kind of spoil the mood, didn’t I?”

Robbie shrugs. He’s still tingling from the images that leapt into his mind when James proposed going to the waterfall, but feeling shy again at the idea of making love out in the open. “You never spoil my mood, love.” He plucks the daypack off the fence where James had dropped it when he decided he’d found the perfect spot for spring wooing.

James loops a long arm around Robbie’s shoulders. “Well…you didn’t really want to do this anyway. Want to just go back to the cottage? I could read dirty poetry to you.” And there’s that suggestive, full of promise, seductive tone back. And James’s beautiful, soulful, hopeful eyes dancing with mischief. And maybe a little bit of disappointment.

It warms Robbie that James is willing to relinquish his woodland fantasy. Though, if he knows James, it won’t be forgotten for long.

After a moment, he shakes his head. He puts his arm around James’s waist and guides him back towards the trail. “Come on, my tasty lamb. Let’s find the waterfall and take a chance on being—” He stops himself before he can say ‘hung’. “—hanged.”