Old Friends & Good Time | By : highgomin Category: 1 through F > Daniel Boone Views: 1307 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Daniel Boone, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
"You meet at the Royal Academy, you said. But how old were you, Mingo?" Daniel was still a little stunned, but overall his attitude had been quite friendly.
"I was 16 when Father sent me in the summer of 1756 to the Royal Academy as a guest; John was visiting the son of an officer when we meet. As the son of Lord Dunsmore, I was a very socially acceptable person to acknowledge and John was always so proper when it came to proper acquaintance", Mingo was still holding tightly to John, who was still sitting between his leg. However, his hands were not on the British gentleman anymore, for Daniel's sake. John and Mingo were touching their right hand lightly.
"And?" inquired Daniel.
John recognized the tone; it was father, brother, best friend, all roll into one. He would accept John, if and only if, he could be sure Mingo was not to be harmed.
"And I seduced him the very first week after we had meet," John stated.
Mingo and John, who could not see each other, understood that Daniel needed a few moments to digest this bit of information.
Mingo took his left hand, and touching John's thigh lightly, watched Daniel's eyes; he had very often read his friend intention that way. Daniel was showing patience and a new understanding.
"I was 16; John was 26, a major with his own command. I didn't want for father to buy a commission. I did not want to be military. I think Father realized I was edgy and while I seemed to have adapted to life in Oxford and balls and the social niceties expected of me, he had seen through me somehow. A warrior life might release the need to reacquaint myself with my Indian roots. Father had forgotten much about life in Kentucky I think. Indians have always accepted difference in the people; warriors could love warriors, as you know, Daniel, as you have seen often enough. I was a child when I left the tribe, but there was 2 men sharing a lodge when I left and they were raising the nephew of one of them. It was fine. When I saw John, he was quite dashing with his blond hair. He was smaller than me, but he had this strong virility, this strong smell of man around him. He sensed me as I sensed him - I think we seduced one another. The difference was I had never been with a man and John was very, very good to me." At that point Mingo and John smiled in sweet memories.
"Mingo, I have always wanted you to be happy. I love Rebbecca dearly, and if you can love someone, a man or a woman doesn't matter to me my friend."
The flames were lower, Daniel added one more stick of wood, lighting the joy and the relief in the two old friends.
"Tomorrow, I will go and find lodging at the Dark Knight's Inn. If you want to visit your father with John here, I will go back home in 2 days. You can stay with your father or with John, in peace and alone. Bring John home when you are finished."
"I want you to come with me to visit my father. He came back from the Bahamas so we could see each other. When we last saw one another, you were there. Come with me; say your good-byes and I'll see you in Kentucky in a few weeks." answered Mingo. At that point, Mingo turned John's face toward him, to better drown in his eyes. "That is, if John is available to stay in Virginia for a while".
"I am here to stay, Mingo," John had pronounced the Cherokee's name with love and acceptance both. "I am also quite willing to visit with your village and your tribe".
"After visiting my father, you and I will come back here, perhaps deeper in the forest, and stay here for a bit. We'll head home shortly after. Would that be agreeable to you John?"
John nodded and disengaged himself from Mingo loving embrace. He touched his cheek briefly, and then got up, making sure his horse was safe, and he took a roll of blanket from his saddle. He spread two blankets side by side and smiling at Daniel, laid himself on one of them, inviting Mingo to use the other one. Mingo went to his pack, unroll his single blanket and covered John with it, before laying close to his old friend, and putting his arm around him.
He said quietly, "Good night, Daniel".
Daniel smiled as he laid himself down, opposite the two other men.
Mingo woke first, as he usually did, as soon as the first peak of sunrise did. John was cuddled beside him, seeking his warmth. He shook John lightly so he could get up, and before adding wood on the embers, or anything else, he like doing in the morning, he took his fill of look at the older man tousled hair. John had been vain back then about his hair, never wearing a wig, preferring to let his own blond hair cascade down his shoulders in their little rivulets. In sleep, he looked serene, at peace. What had he dreamed last night?
Eventually, Mingo snapped himself off his reverie and stretched his long arms above his head, removing the kinks of sleeping on hard ground. Fall had not been very advanced and the first bite of freeze was not around yet, but soon.
He had to restart the fire completely; the embers were ashes this morning. He then went to thank the Creator by the little stream, he had much thanks to give this morning. Daniel had accepted a new knowledge of Mingo without questions and John was back in his life, if only for a short while. As he started to splash water on his face and arms, Daniel joined him.
“Sleep good, Mingo?”
"Actually, I did." Mingo looked up, water glistening on his shivering skin. "Thank you, Daniel."
He didn't need to address the reason of his gratitude; their friendship had grown last evening.
"I'll make some coffee, and I'll be going right away. Tell me where to meet you and when, I'll be there." Daniel stated simply.
John was up as well by the time they came back to camp. After hastily making breakfast, Daniel went on his way to Alexandria, to book his room. Mingo and John lingered behind, watching him walk away with long steady stride.
"A good man, your friend, Mingo, a rare breed," John voice was low and quite sweet, as he was very close to Mingo as they watched Daniel go.
"Yes, he is. But enough of him, I want to hear about you now, about you in America, about your life since I left, all about you." Mingo hugged John fiercely, as if to gather him into his heart, deep and for all eternity.
"After we make love, after we make love, Mingo. My skin is full of the need of you; let us find a sanctuary where we can make love." John stood on tiptoe, Mingo bend his head, their lips meet, their tongues dance in unison and their hands held tight, crushed between their chests.
John released Mingo first this time and only because they needed to breath. Mingo turned John around, pushing him ahead of him, his hand sliding more and more toward his buttock. They were heading toward the small stream.
John saw immediately why Mingo had pushed him that way, a few steps north of the stream there was a little cliff, very small, a child like area for play, but they would be hidden from any travelers on the road.
Quickly John started to unbutton his stock, his shirt, his breeches, while Mingo quickly removed vest and pants. Both men were facing each other, splendid forms in their firm bodies. Ages had left its mark, yet, these were warriors and while John looked a little like he indulged a bit too much in sweet vine, neither had anything to be ashamed in the sight of their very aroused bodies.
Mingo wasn't the young man that John had deflowered back then. He was patient and caring, yet absorbed into making sure both of them would experience passion as well as tenderness. John let him lead the way, receiving caresses and touches and giving back as much as he received. Mingo was tanned all over, much to John pleasure; John simply had to touch every bit of the leathery skin, hardened by a hard life, coarse with outside air and living, smelling of the wood, of river and stream, of the air even.
They spent most of the morning in the pleasure of the flesh; every so often Mingo would get up and gather some very cool water that he would spread on John's torso, bringing shivers first, and conforts second by hugging the man to his chest.
At some point though, they had exhausted their own physical limit; John laid his head on Mingo chest, marveling at the length of his hair, combing the long thread with his fingers. His braids had come undone under John's duress at some point.
"You still want to know what I am doing in this country, my love?" asked John, breaking the silence that had come after the moans and the needs.
Mingo was feeling sated, happy, rested and loving.
"I daresay that I do, John, so do tell me", Mingo was also in awe of John's hair, and his right hand was slowly caressing the soft blond mane.
"I spent half of my adult life as a soldier. When I decided I had enough, I went into diplomacy, married, and raised her nephew as my son. She died just as we had decided to settle here. The Revolutionary War happened but this was our home, my son and I so I had to choose between Canada or America. I chose America. Simple as that."
"You married?"
"I married. Yes. She was a childhood friend, we were good companions, and we had this child to raise together. He is a man now himself. My plantation is doing well. But I am often lonely. Now, tell me about you. Cherokee, your friend Daniel said. Care to explain?"
Mingo spent the next half-hour telling John about his family, his heritage, and the choice he also made when he decided to leave England. He had never regretted it, finally living his live the way he wanted it. He had also suffered from loneliness at times, although he was taking care of many widows and their children as an unmarried brave. His life had purposes; he had good friends, Cherokee and White Men alike, reconciling his entire heritage.
"Will you come to my village with me, John? After I visited with my father, that is?"
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