The Night of the Athletic Agent

by Islaofhope

      Seventy-five, seventy-six, seventy-seven…

      Artie forcibly dragged his eyes away from his partner, who was slowly--oh, so, slowly-- flexing his arms and shoulders to lift his upper body up off the floor and then even more slowly lowering down again. Jim's lips weren't moving, and he made no sound other than the slight inhalation and exhalation accompanying his effort, but Artie knew that Jim would count off his push-ups until he reached one hundred. Artie silently counted along, his gaze gloating over the rippling muscles and the trickle of sweat that ran down Jim's bronzed back.

      To increase the load on his arms and shoulders, halfway through his pushups, Jim had lifted his feet onto the couch. Luckily for the upholstery, his feet were bare when he performed his calisthenics. In fact, he was bare except for a tight pair of trousers, and Artie watched fascinated as moisture darkened the fabric that bisected Jim's perfect buttocks. Fortunately, Jim's fastidious cleanliness rendered the aroma of that perspiration inoffensive in the close air of the parlor car.

      Or else, it was true love, Artie silently mocked himself.

      The desk abutted the couch, and Artie had a direct line of sight along Jim's muscular legs, over his perfect ass, and between his strong shoulder blades to the vulnerable nape of his neck. Artie licked his lips and, once again, forcibly dragged his eyes back to the report that he'd been reviewing. Sighing audibly, he flipped the page back. Although he'd read half of the report, his brain had retained little or nothing, and he had to start all over again.

      "Am I disturbing you?" Jim paused in mid-push-up and turned his head to glance back at Artie. He stretched unselfconsciously, twisting his neck first to one side and then the other. "I can do this somewhere else, I guess."

      "You're not disturbing me, Jim." With this miniscule white lie, Artie closed the folder and sighed again. "This report is incredibly boring. Boswell is a brilliant man, but he's as dry as day-old toast."

      "Brilliance doesn't necessarily need to be expressed in a dull, dry manner." Jim executed another slow push-up. So slender and muscular was he that watching him undulate was practically an anatomy lesson; trapeziums, deltoids, biceps, and triceps all rippled. He lowered himself completely to the ground and gracefully rolled off the couch onto his back, and-unfortunately--out of Artie's line of sight. "As you've proven countless times, Mr. Gordon."

      Artie smiled at the compliment and stuffed the folder in a drawer. He walked around to sit on the couch, his booted feet inches from Jim's prone body. Supporting his chin on his fists, he watched silently as his partner executed several sit-ups.

      "You've given up?" Jim didn't pause in his exercise to ask the question.

      "On the report?" Artie sat back on the couch and looked idly out the window at the passing scenery. "I have two days between here and San Francisco to read that thing. Another quick trip between Washington and the Far West during which I don't anticipate being distracted by the countryside. I've seen it all before."

      "Oh, really?" There was a smile in Jim's voice that caused Artie's attention to swing back to his partner, but Jim's face was smoothed of expression except for the faint crease in his forehead that gave away his concentration on his calisthenics.

      "Uh-huh." Artie leaned forward slightly. He watched Jim exercise for a moment, admiring the play of the light on the bronzed skin. Knowing how hard his partner worked to keep himself in shape, Artie would never be churlish enough to envy Jim his fine body. Jim's strength had got them out of countless dangerous situations.

      Not to mention the times it had gotten them into those situations in the first place.

      Artie cleared his throat and banished such prurient thoughts from his mind. "You're working your abdominal muscles here, aren't you?"

      "I am." Jim turned his head and met Artie's gaze. "What about it? A strong mid-section is critical to-"

      "Oh, I don't have any objections to you working on your mid-section." A grin flitted across Artie's face before he tilted his head to one side, considering. "Only, I think that you're wasting a lot of motion. If you really want to strengthen your abdominals, I would recommend a smaller motion. Just enough so that you can feel it in your stomach muscles." He waved his hand over Jim's prone body. "What you're doing right now uses your back and your legs, and I wonder how much you end up relying on momentum."

      "And when did you get to be such an expert in this field?" Jim said, but he tried Artie's suggestion, frowning down at his abdominal muscles. He looked back up Artie. "You know, I think you're right. I can feel the difference." After executing several more modified sit-ups, he stopped to wrap a hand around Artie's booted ankle. "Since you're such an expert, why don't you join me down here on the floor? You can give me some personal coaching."

      "Oh, no, I don't think that's such a great idea." Artie threw up his hands in protest, ignoring the voice in his head that tempted him to join his partner on the floor. "I get enough exercise just trying to keep up with you." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "No, my interest in exercise physiology is more intellectual. I was thinking of using my observations of you to write a textbook. You know the colonel has been talking about setting up a training program, and I thought-"

      "What were you going to call it, Professor Gordon?" Jim laughed and scrambled to his feet, the rest of his abdominal workout apparently forgotten. He placed his hands on his hips and smiled down at Artie with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "How about 'You, Too, Can Have Jim West's Body'?"

      "Oh." Artie felt himself flushing, and he cleared his throat before he found a teasing smile of his own. "Why not? I'd include drawings, of course. You wouldn't mind posing, would you, partner?"

      "You need me to pose?" Jim rubbed his palms over the front of his trousers, either wiping away sweat or dusting off his trousers, before he turned to walk away. "You don't think you can sketch me from memory?"

      "I had another idea," Artie said, ignoring Jim's jibe. "Don't you think that you'd be more comfortable in clothing that was specifically designed in which to exercise? As it is, you get your regular clothes all sweaty and dusty and-"

      "I could forgo clothing entirely." Jim stood under the chin-up bar in the doorway that led out to the sleeping quarters. He rubbed his palms over the front of his trousers again before he reached up to grasp the bar. "It would certainly be cooler." He leisurely pulled himself up and lowered himself down again before sending a smile over to his partner. "I wouldn't do it while we were parked on a siding in town, but when we're moving through unpopulated country like this, I don't think anyone would be offended by my-"

      "Doesn't sound like a good idea, Jim," Artie said, rubbing his chin reflectively, forcibly averting his mind's eye from the vision of Jim exercising in the nude. "You wouldn't want to risk injuring your privates during an intense session."

      "The Greeks did it all the time," Jim insisted as he continued his pull-ups.

      "Did what?" Artie asked, too distracted by the pounding of the blood in his ears and the discomfort of the stiffening cock restrained in his trousers to actually follow the conversation.

      "Exercised in the nude," Jim said. He continued to raise and lower himself on the bar.

      Artie gripped his hands in his lap, flushing when Jim caught him staring.

      "You've an opinion on how I should be doing my pull-ups, too?"

      "If you change your grip," Artie said, his voice rougher than usual due to the dryness in his throat, "you'd work the muscles more thoroughly."

      "Thank you, Professor." Jim smiled, lowered himself to the floor completely, and shifted his grip so that his wrists were turned toward his body. He grasped the bar again. "But I knew that." He chinned himself on the bar.

      Artie stood up and crossed the room, stopping directly in front of Jim, his gaze following the slowly moving torso as it bobbed up and down before his eyes. "Sorry. I'll think of something else." Daringly, he stepped forward, and his hands molded to Jim's hip bones as if those hips had been designed as a natural resting place for Artemus Gordon's hands.

      "Checking my posture?" Jim asked with a chuckle. He dangled from the bar, his arms fully extended, and his face was level with Artie's. "Good form is so very important, don't you agree?"

      Instead of answering, Artie nudged his head forward just enough so that their lips met, merely a brush of tender skin before Jim lifted himself again.

      "Now I see how it is," Jim said as Artie's grip tightened on his hips and Artie's lips nuzzled his belly. He lowered himself again, and Artie opened his mouth to Jim's gently thrusting tongue. Jim's scent was even more intoxicating this close, and Artie rubbed his hands over Jim's damp sides, loving the heat and the scent that rose from his smooth skin.

      "Mmmm," Jim said before bending his arms to lift his mouth out of range of Artie's.

      Artie thrust the tip of his tongue into Jim's navel, and his hands roamed over the backs of Jim's thighs before cupping the perfect buttocks in both hands. When Jim lowered himself again, Artie's tongue left a wet trail up Jim's chest, and their lips met again.

      "Artemus," Jim murmured before turning his head slightly to press a damp kiss against Artie's temple. "Artemus," Jim said again, his husky voice turning the name into a love word sweeter than any Artie had ever heard before.

      "James." Artie rubbed one hand along Jim's smooth-shaven jawline and used his thumb to caress the pulse in the carotid artery. "Ah, James," he said against Jim's mouth and wrapped his arms around Jim's waist, forcing their groins together. He groaned in disappointment when Jim lifted himself again, rubbing his cheek against the rapidly growing bulge in Jim's trousers and inhaling the warm scent of sex. "I can barely think when you're so damn irresistible."

      "Oh, really?" Jim's mouth covered Artie's again, and they kissed lingeringly before Jim lifted himself once more and gazed down at his partner. "I distinctly heard you say that you get bored looking at the same old scenery."

      "Never yours." Artie looked up into his partner's sparkling eyes, and he licked his lips, tasting the salt from Jim's skin. He grasped Jim more firmly around the waist and nudged a shoulder against Jim's pelvis. "Let go of the bar."

      "Why?" Jim asked, but he obeyed, dropping his full weight onto his partner and chuckling softly when Artie slung him over his shoulder to carry Jim through the doorway. Artie kicked the door closed behind him and opened the door to their bedroom. Jim's hands gripped Artie's shoulders, and his mouth pressed damply against Artie's shirt. They were both breathing hard by the time Artie dropped Jim on the bed.

      "You may be right." Hands on hips, Artie gazed down at his friend.

      "About what?" His face flushed and his hair tousled, Jim raised himself on his elbows, an expectant smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

      "If you exercised in the nude, it would save us a lot of time." Artie sank down on the bed and rested his hand on the dark cloth that covered Jim's thigh. He rubbed his hand up that muscular thigh, stopping only when his fingertips contacted the bulge of Jim's cockhead. The dampness against his fingers was partly perspiration from Jim's calisthenics and partly pre-ejaculate, and Artie lifted his hand to his nose to inhale the intoxicating odor.

      "I only have my trousers to take off." Jim sat up again. "You're fully clothed down to your boots." He lifted himself to his knees and rubbed his hand over the cloth that covered Artie's chest. "You are planning to undress for me, aren't you?"

      Artie swallowed, and his gaze roamed over the bare expanse of Jim's chest, over the muscular shoulders and arms. Jim's upper body appeared engorged by the extra blood pumped into the muscles during his exercise. "Maybe I'm shy," Artie said, although he'd not been afflicted with shyness in his memory. He lifted Jim's hand to his mouth to place a kiss in his palm. "It's just that you're so damn beautiful."

      Jim shook his head impatiently, and his fingers swiftly undid Artie's shirt and peeled it off his shoulders. "I like the way you look, too." He rubbed the palms of his hands over Artie's bare chest, a look of concentration on his face that slowly turned to a smile. His gaze seemed to leave a trail even warmer than that left by his fingers. Leaning forward, he kissed Artie's mouth slowly, his tongue thrusting tenderly against Artie's. He wrapped his arms around Artie's torso and pressed warm lips to Artie's right shoulder.

      Artie closed his eyes and draped his arms around Jim's shoulders, just holding the tempting body tight against his own. He listened to Jim's soft respiration in his ear and instinctively matched his own breathing to the same tempo. Jim's flesh was warm and moist under his palms, against his chest, and along the inside of his arms. Jim's erection, imprisoned in his tight pants, strained against Artie's belly.

      "What do you want?" Jim said softly in Artie's ear, his fingers sliding under the waistband of Artie's trousers.

      Instead of answering, Artie shifted his weight to bear Jim backward onto the bed. His mouth covered Jim's mouth in a hungry kiss, and his right hand caressed Jim's flat stomach. He clutched Jim's shoulder with his left hand to support his weight and slid one leg between Jim's legs to spread them. His hand moved lower, brushing over Jim's navel and encountering the arrow of hair that pointed down to Jim's cock.

      "Oh," Jim groaned softly as Artie's hand opened his trousers and wandered down to brush gently over his straining erection. His hands clutched Artie's sides, and he thrust his groin upward, seeking more contact.

      Artie's tongue lazily circled Jim's before he deliberately turned down the heat of his kiss. His hand slid away from Jim's cock to caress his right hip, and he lifted himself away from Jim, smiling faintly. "Don't you think we'd be more comfortable...?"

      "Immeasurably," Jim said in a thick voice. His eyelids appeared nearly too heavy to remain open, and his lips were kiss-swollen. He rolled away from Artie and stood up beside the bed to strip off his trousers and undergarments. There was nothing coy about the gesture, and his eyes held a heat that Artie knew very well. "Let's get your pants off, too." His gaze flowed over Artie's partially clad body. He licked his lips before he knelt on the bed to pull off Artie's boots and assist him in stripping down.

      When they were both naked, Artie ordered, "Come here," and Jim, his expression curiously solemn, settled between Artie's spread legs, supporting his weight on his hands.

      "James." Artie reached up to cradle Jim's face in his hands and drew him down for another kiss. This kiss was slow and sweet, their tongues playing gently together. He smiled into the kiss, and he felt Jim's lips turn up in an answering smile. They drew apart to gaze at each other contentedly. "I'm not giving you much of a workout, am I?" Artie commented, his hands sliding down over Jim's shoulders, down his strong back, and coming to rest on his naked hips.

      "We'll see about that." Jim shifted to drag his cock against Artie's, and he closed his eyes, his lips parting in a silent gasp. His eyes opened again, and he smiled down at Artie. "Mmm, you feel good."

      "Let me show you just how good I can feel." Artie rolled them onto their sides, and he slid one hand under Jim's neck to draw him close for another kiss. His other hand massaged slowly down Jim's side before sliding between his legs to cup his balls.

      "Oh," Jim gasped into Artie's mouth, and he closed his eyes, giving himself over to his partner's caress.

      Artie sucked on the tip of Jim's tongue for a moment before he released Jim's mouth. Lying back on the bed, he drew his lover down to recline against him. He kissed the side of Jim's throat and licked his lips to taste the sweetness of the warm flesh and the saltiness of Jim's perspiration. He leisurely caressed Jim's testicles, but when he pushed back Jim's foreskin, his hand immediately became wet with pre-ejaculate. He bit Jim's shoulder gently, wrapped his other arm around, and used one hand to stroke Jim's cock and the other to knead his balls. Dizzied by the musky smell, he slid his hand rapturously over the silky flesh of Jim's cock.

      "Artemus." Jim clutched Artie's hip and thrust into his hand. "If you keep doing that..."

      "Ah, sweet youth," Artie teased, increasing the tempo of his caress. "Are you that close already?"

      "Just about." Jim turned his head, and their lips met again.

      "Good." Artie opened his mouth to Jim's tongue, and his hand moved faster over Jim's hard flesh.

      "Oh." Jim convulsed in Artie's arms, and semen spurted from his cock. He rocked his head back, his face contorted with pleasure.

      Artie, his fingers still moving tenderly over Jim's cock, kissed the side of his neck. "Even better."

      Smiling, Jim reached over to lazily wrap a hand around Artie's still hard cock. "Now, what about this?" He turned his head slightly to rub his cheek against Artie's chest. "Bring it up here."

      Artie's embrace tightened for a moment before he rolled up to straddle Jim's chest. He caught his breath as Jim's right hand encircled his cock and closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by pleasure of the touch. But he opened them again. He wanted to see Jim's face, wanted to watch his cock disappear into and reappear from Jim's mouth.

      Jim grabbed a pillow and stuffed it behind his head, raising himself to a steeper angle. He stroked the length of Artie's cock and gently squeezed the base. His tongue, warm and wet, licked just the tip of Artie's cock, and his eyes closed. His expression was grave, a slight frown of concentration marring the smooth brow as his hand stroked up and down. "You taste good." Jim smiled and opened his eyes, which sparkled green and very clear. He looked like a kid enjoying a long-anticipated treat.

      "Why, thank you, James." Artie couldn't resist thrusting deeper into Jim's warm mouth. He curved one hand around his lover's neck, feeling the throat muscles working as he thrust deeper. "Ah, that's good. So good."

      "Mmm." Jim's low moan caused a very pleasant vibration, and his hand cupped Artie's balls warmly. He pulled back slightly, allowing Artie's cock to slip from his mouth. He slowly licked the length of it, paying special attention to the thick vein on the underside. Artie was cut, so there was no foreskin for Jim to push back. Jim pressed the tip of his tongue into the slit at the tip of Artie's cock and then rolled his tongue around the entire head. Rocking his head back against the pillow, Jim stroked Artie's cock firmly with one hand. "This is nice, but..." He flushed slightly before he added, "Would you like to fuck me?"

      Artie chuckled softly. "I wouldn't say no to an offer like that." He slid backward, his cock drawing a damp line down the firm chest and through the soft hair. He lowered himself down to kiss Jim's mouth and tasted his own pre- ejaculate on his lover's tongue.

      "Mmmmm." Jim cradled the back of Artie's head in his right hand and wrapped an arm around Artie's waist to hold him close. He thrust his groin up against Artie's, and they kissed and rocked their bodies together for a moment.

      Still kissing Jim's sweet mouth, Artie reached out to open the top drawer of the bedside table and fumbled around for the oil they always kept there.

      The train slowed to take a sharp curve, and Artie envisioned the territorial map, pinpointing their location. He sat up, leaning instinctively into the slant of the train, and inched backward some more until he knelt between Jim's spread thighs.

      His eyes closed, his head tilted slightly back, his lips slightly parted, and his pelvis tilted up, Jim resembled an offering to some jealous god. "Except that you're no virgin," Artie murmured as he opened the vial and poured a generous amount of oil into his palm.

      "No, thanks to you, I'm not." Jim was nearly hard again, and Artie rubbed oil lightly over Jim's cock, causing it to harden still further, and Jim pushed up into the caress. Artie could see the gasp that escaped Jim's lips, but he couldn't hear it over the tick, tick, tick of the railroad ties falling away beneath their private car.

      Artie bent to kiss just the tip of Jim's cock, but he didn't linger. Lifting Jim's lower body to rest on his thighs and hooking Jim's legs over his shoulders, he slid two fingers along the crevice, spreading the oil to the tight bud of Jim's anus. His fingers didn't breach that opening before he pulled away to spread the oil generously over his own cock. It leapt in his hand as though it were a sentient being eager for what was to come.

      The train was nearly at the end of the curve, ready to pick up speed, and Artie centered himself against the opening to Jim's body. When he entered Jim in one long, swift stroke, his own groan and Jim's low cry was drowned out by the train's whistle. Artie smiled before he pulled out again and re-entered more slowly. He gripped Jim's hips where smooth skin stretched taut over muscle and bone with barely any cushion over hard angles. Jim's anal muscles gripped Artie's cock securely; beyond his sphincter, his interior was soft as warm butter. "So warm and accommodating inside," Artie murmured.

      "And so hard and unyielding outside," Jim said with a teasing smile.

      Artie flushed a little. "How do you always know--?"

      "Exactly what you're thinking?" Jim's hands massaged Artie's sides. "Your face is so open. You always give everything away." He smiled. "And you talk in your sleep."

      Smiling back, Artie ran his hands over the firm muscular buttocks, and Jim gripped him hard. "No one would ever guess," he said softly, his cock pushing slowly into his partner, "how much you enjoy yielding to me."

      "No, they wouldn't." Jim's gaze met Artie's, his face glowing with desire and a sheen of sweat. He lifted himself, pushing his ass hard against Artie's groin, forcing Artie's cock deeper into his body. He groaned as Artie's cockhead found his prostate. "Oh, yes. Right there." His hands gripped Artie's hips, and they crushed their bodies together.

      Sweat poured off Artie's body and mingled with Jim's sweat, soaking the sheets and making their bodies too slick to hold. Their hands slipped around, but their bodies were firmly anchored together, and gravity did most of the work for Artie as he pumped into Jim's body.

      Nearly blinded by the sweat that poured into his eyes, Artie shifted to press his weight across the back of Jim's legs, trusting Jim's flexibility and strength to prevent any harm. From this position, he could reach Jim's mouth with his own. They kissed hungrily, and Artie thrust more slowly, groaning softly into Jim's mouth as the pressure built in his balls.

      Jim's erection was trapped between their abdomens, and Artie considered reaching between to grasp it, but their bodies were too slick. He wrapped his arms around Jim's back and held on tight, quickly forgetting everything else in the heated rush of his orgasm.

      "Oh." Too enervated to lift himself, Artie burrowed his damp face in Jim's neck. "Oh, James."

      "Artemus." Jim's voice was barely a whisper, and his hands tenderly massaged Artie's back.

      "Am I too heavy?" Artie mumbled. He pressed his lips against Jim's throat, too exhausted for a proper kiss.

      "No." Jim turned his head slightly to kiss Artie's forehead. "Stay. Just like this."

      "No." Artie licked his dry lips--it seemed as though every drop of moisture had been leeched out of his body through his pores and now was soaking Jim and their bed. "I should let you up," he said

      "Hold on." Jim rolled them both onto their sides.

      Artie regained enough strength to help Jim lower his legs, and he slid out of Jim's ass. "You all right?" He rubbed his hands over the backs of Jim's legs, working out the tightness in his hamstrings.

      "Never better," Jim said with a chuckle. He smoothed his hand lazily down Artie's side and over his perspiration-dampened flank, and he smiled into Artie's eyes. He bent to kiss Artie swiftly before he rolled out of bed.

      "Where are you…?" Artie sighed and lay back against the crumpled pillow, his eyes squeezed shut. The sheets were soaked, and he knew that he should get up to change them, but after making love, he would have preferred to hold Jim for a little while.

      "Drink this."

      Artie opened his eyes. Jim sat on the edge of the bed, a glass of cool water in his hand, and Artie drank it down without pausing to take a breath. He handed back the glass. "After all that, you'd think I'd deserve some good whiskey."

      "You do," Jim said. He stood up to walk over to the dresser to refill the glass from a pitcher he'd apparently brought in from the pantry. "But it's not what you needed right now." He tilted back his head to drink down the water, and Artie caught his breath, amazed anew at the perfection of Jim's unclothed body."

      "James."

      "Yes, I'm coming back to bed." Jim refilled the glass once more and brought it back to the bedside table. He crawled in beside Artie and pulled the sheet and counterpane up over them before settling his head on Artie's shoulder, one arm wrapped around Artie's waist and one leg draped over Artie's thighs. "We'll need to change the sheets, of course, but…" His voice trailed off into a barely stifled yawn.

      "James." Artie wrapped one arm around Jim's back to pull him close, and he rubbed his other hand over Jim's upper leg. He turned his head to kiss Jim's mouth lightly and smiled at the look of complete relaxation on his dearest friend's face. "We've made love in hotel rooms stretching from San Francisco to Washington City."

      "All manner of hotel rooms." Jim's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled, too. "And don't forget when we were traveling with that wagon train to Denver. When we had to make do with a blanket beside that mountain spring." He rubbed his cheek contentedly against Artie's clavicle. "We didn't even have a blanket when we stole away from camp to make love in that desert in New Mexico. When we were looking for Montezuma's treasure."

      "I do believe," Artie murmured into Jim's hair, "that's how I won over that Mexican colonel." His voice altered slightly to take on the quaver of a much older man when he added, "He was rather impressed when an old desert rat like myself seduced a handsome young fella like you."

      "I think he was a little relieved when we told him that we were partners." Jim laughed softly and burrowed into Artie's embrace. "And that you were considerably younger than you were pretending to be." They fell silent a moment, idly caressing each other and thinking their own thoughts.

      "Your rooms in Washington City will always hold a special place in my heart," Artie murmured, rubbing his knuckles down Jim's spine.

      "Our first time." Jim's voice had dropped to a whisper that Artie could only hear because Jim's mouth was against his ear. "Mmm, I'll never forget how good that was."

      "First twenty times," Artie corrected with a laugh before he turned serious. "But this is the best, James. In this bed, while the Wanderer eats up the miles at the end of a mission, carrying us off to another." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, loving the liquid relaxation in Jim's body and his own. "Maybe that's why the motion of the train and the hum of the rails never fails to arouse me. That and the lazy smile that turns up your lovely lips when you're completely relaxed and you want me as much as I want you."

      Jim was silent except for his soft breath in Artie's ear, and Artie wondered if Jim had fallen asleep. But he heard a low chuckle. "You find the motion of the train arousing, huh?" Jim gently nipped at Artie's ear lobe, and he rubbed his hand over Artie's chest before resting it directly over Artie's heart. "Another crazy scheme to make money, Mr. Gordon? You're thinking about inventing a vibrating bed, aren't you?"

      "C'mon, Jim, I'm serious." Artie rolled onto his side, dumping Jim out of his embrace, and glared down at his partner. "I know that you think I'm too emotional but, for heaven's sake, can't you allow me a little emotion right after--?"

      "Artie." Jim put his hand on the side of Artie's neck and gazed up calmly at him. "You're right, Artemus, this is the best." He lifted himself just enough to brush his lips against Artie's, his eyes falling shut, and the gentle pressure of lips changed to a deeper kiss, his tongue circling Artie's. When the kiss ended, he relaxed back on the pillow and fixed Artie with a calm, clear, green-eyed gaze. "You're the best, Artemus. It doesn't matter where we make love."

      "Why, thank you, James." Inexplicably, Jim's serious tone caused Artie to want to lighten the mood. "I couldn't do what I do without you."

      "You could," Jim teased, his serious mood evaporating as well, and he trailed his fingers over Artie's chest, "but it wouldn't be as much fun."

      Artie smiled and caught those fingers, raising them to his mouth to kiss each fingertip. "Not so bad for an old man who's about to turn forty-five, huh?" Artie looped an arm around Jim's waist, pulling him into a tight embrace.

      "You're not old." Jim burrowed his face into Artie's neck, and he rubbed his palm down Artie's back. "Any man would be proud to look as good as you do at your age." He entwined his legs with Artie's.

      "You will." Artie turned his head slightly to kiss Jim's forehead. "Better, I'm sure." He closed his eyes and tightened his embrace around Jim's waist. "You'll always be beautiful," he said softly. His fingers toyed with the damp curls at the nape of Jim's neck. "Do you realize that when you're my age, I'll be sixty?" He shuddered with mock horror. "You won't want an old man of sixty as a lover."

      "Probably not," Jim murmured against Artie's ear.

      It was like a punch in the stomach or maybe like having his arm ripped off, and Artie closed his eyes against the ridiculous sting of tears. "Well, we never promised each other forever, James," he said, struggling to make it sound like a joke, "but you could be a little more diplomatic about it." He swallowed an empty threat that he could leave right now if Jim was having doubts. Rolling out of Jim's embrace, he reclined back on the bed, his breathing accelerated.

      "Artemus." Jim's voice was a whisper, barely heard, and he leaned over to place a light kiss on Artie's mouth. "I wish I could promise you forever, but…" His eyes held a sadness that Artie had seen before but had always chosen to ignore, and his shoulders tensed.

      Artie bit his lip as he realized what was on Jim's mind. "One of these days, Jim, you're going to get yourself killed," Artie said hollowly. "It's just the way you live your life. You're going to die young, die in the performance of your duty to your country." The words tasted bitter in Artie's mouth, but then he was oddly pleased to see the tension dissipate from Jim's body. "I'll just have to be grateful for the memories that we've made together."

      "I'm lucky to have you, Artemus." Jim supported his chin on the heel of his hand. "I doubt anyone else could understand my situation the way you do." He leaned over to kiss Artie's mouth once more, his eyes closing more from weariness than passion, and he settled back on the pillow. "I'm going to sleep for a bit. Wake me up before we get to our stop in Abilene, and I'll buy you dinner in town."

      "Oh, hell," Artie said under his breath. A nap was the furthest thing from his mind right now; Jim's declaration had assured that. He rolled out of the bed, pulled the sheets up to cover his partner, and grabbed his clothes from where he'd draped them over the chair. No sense putting on fresh clothes when he was just going to get sweaty again.

      Artie didn't look back at his sleeping partner as he left the bedroom and slipped into the stable car. Dusty nickered softly at him, and he patted the horse's flank before he retrieved the jump rope and the barbells from their hiding place.

      "Not a discouraging word out of you, Dusty, my boy," Artie said before he put the rope in motion. Soon, he was breathing hard, and the sweat was pouring from his body again. "I hate exercise as much as the next man," he confided breathlessly to the horse. "As long as the next man isn't Jim West." He took a break for a long gulp of water. "But it's the price I willingly pay for a lover who's fifteen years younger than I am."

      Artie half-grinned at the disapproval that he imagined he saw on Dusty's face, but then he sobered, replaced the glass on the counter, and resumed jumping rope. "I have to keep up with him. Do you have any idea how many times I've pushed myself past what I thought were my limits and managed to save his life?" He smiled again, despite the dull ache in his chest and arms. "Doc said my bad heart would probably kill me before I was forty. If I can beat those odds, who knows what kind of odds I can beat for my boy, James?"

      Artie jumped rope in silence for a moment before he added, "Although I doubt that Doc would have such encouraging words regarding my mental health. Here I am, sweating my brains out, having a conversation with a horse."

-finis-

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