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It was late into the night, their adversaries had been defeated, and Morning Frost was celebrating, along with the rest of his cohort. Or, almost all of them.
The others were drinking, dancing, playing cards, hooting and hollering and carrying on as much of a group of men who'd escaped death relatively unscathed could. Everyone except one man in particular.
Frost sauntered over to the corner where Shepherd Morgan was sitting, a bottle and a glass on his table. By the looks of him, and the way in which his thoughts buzzed loudly around him, he was several drinks deep. Frost resisted the urge to delve into his thoughts, as tempting as it was. He didn't want to pull truths from Shepherd's head, though – he wanted to coax them from his mouth.
"Good evening." Frost said smoothly as he approached him.
Shepherd looked up at him and grunted in greeting, although Frost could see the way he looked him up and down, the way his cheeks darkened slightly when he spotted how far his shirt was unbuttoned. He'd been dancing, and he had gotten warm, was the excuse he was willing to give. The actual reason why he'd unbuttoned his shirt was to see if he could inspire that blush.
He and Shepherd had been dancing around each other for a while now, and their recent brush with death (as well as the many, many painfully sad conversations he'd had with Kremy regarding the despair of lost love) had inspired Frost to take the bull by the horns, as it were.
"What's the matter, Sheriff? Too upstanding to enjoy a little fun? Did our daring deeds this evening not put you in the mood for some debauchery?" Frost teased him, tail flicking playfully back and forth. The word debauchery had bright pink and flame red thoughts coming off him in waves, by Frost purposefully tuned them out. He'd hear them straight from the horse's mouth, or not at all, this evening.
Shepherd groaned, head tilting back, hat threatening to tip off his head.
"Stop fuckin' callin' me that," he said, more of a plea than a request. "Fuck."
"Why? Do you not like it?" Frost asked softly, innocently. He would stop, if Shepherd truly wanted him to. But something – be it intuition, or the fantasies of Shepherd's he'd accidentally been privy to – told him him that he liked it very much.
"No, that ain't the problem. Like it a little too much." Shepherd said through gritted teeth. Frost rewarded this confession with a smile.
"Why, Sheriff. You shouldn't have said. I only have an incentive to use your title more, now." Frost blinked at him, eyes wide and guileless.
Shepherd grumbled something unintelligible. Frost leaned over, grabbed the glass he was drinking out of and shot back the remaining liquid in the glass. He didn't usually like whisky, but in this moment he found the burn of it going down to be awfully pleasant.
"Have a good evening, Sheriff. Try and have a some fun. Who knows, you might enjoy yourself." Frost winked at him, and sauntered back across the room to join the rowdy card game happening between Gideon, Torbek and Gricko.
Shepherd did join in with their card game after a few minutes, and Frost was treated to a glimpse of what he was like when he actually relaxed. As it turned out, he was wickedly competitive, and Frost found himself liking it very much.
One by one, the others left. Kremy and Gideon were the first to go, to no-one's surprise. As the others turned in for the night, Frost said goodnight to each of them, but remained in the gambling hall. Eventually, it was only he and Shepherd left in the room, sat opposite each other at one of the card tables. He could feel Shepherd's unyielding gaze on him as he walked over to him once more, tail and hips swaying. There was an art to seduction, Frost had found, and it was one he deeply enjoyed employing.
As he approached Shepherd, he pushed his chair back from the table, the legs scraping across the ground. Good. They both knew what was coming next, then.
He slid onto Shepherd's lap, legs spread wide, seating his crotch firmly over Shepherd's. He gasped, eyes wide as he gazed up at Frost. He swiftly grabbed Shepherd's hat and placed it on his own head, looking at him intently. He watched Shepherd's throat bob as he swallowed thickly, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. Frost stared as he drew his tongue back into his mouth, wishing he could chase it with his own. But no, there would be ample time for that later. For now, it was about the performance of it all, the gentle coaxing of Shepherd into sinning with him. Not that Frost considered pleasures of the flesh to be a sin, per se, but there was something deeply compelling about convincing such an honourable man as Shepherd Morgan to give in to his own desires.
"Frost." His voice was gruff, warning, but Frost could detect a waver in it, sense the red-hot thoughts that licked like flames at the edge of his consciousness. "Ya shouldn't steal a man's hat like that."
"Oh, should I not?" Frost said, ever playing naive. "My apologies. You see, I had heard that stealing a man's hat and putting it on your own head was a way of signalling you wanted to have sex with him. If that's not the case, I supposed I should get off-"
He went to stand up, but Shepherd's hands shot out and gripped his hips before he could move more than an inch, anchoring him in place.
"No, I think yer gonna stay right here." With his hat off his head, Shepherd's face was far less guarded than it usually was. His yellow eyes were glinting in the lamplight, and one eyebrow was quirked upwards slightly, as though he was daring Frost to struggle away.
Frost shivered slightly, but not because he was cold. It could be fun, to tease Shepherd like that – to make him chase him. His tail flicked at the thought of Shepherd hunting him down and fucking him in the dirt outside, rope tied around his wrists and ankles.
Tempting. Sorely tempting. But something for another night. Tonight, Frost was impatient, wanting. He was already hard, his cock out of his sheath, and he was seeking satisfaction.
That said, it didn't mean that he couldn't still tease him a little.
"Right here? So I shouldn't move like this?" He asked, rolling his hips forward, breath stuttering as his cock rubbed against Shepherd's. He closed his eyes, relishing in the drag of them together.
"Hah- no. No, I reckon moving like that is- just fine." Shepherd ground out, thumbs swiping across Frost's hipbones.
Frost anchored himself with a hand on the back of the chair and the other cupping Shepherd's face. He leaned in and kissed him as he rocked his hips forwards again, catching the sigh Shepherd let out in his open mouth.
The kiss was surprisingly sweet for how desperately Shepherd was clinging onto him, how hard he was bucking up against Frost's movements. Each grind of their hips together sent sparks down his spine. Heat pooled in his gut, and he suddenly needed more, needed to know what Shepherd's naked skin would feel like pressed against his.
"My room is just upstairs. I know Kremy won't be back until at least tomorrow." Frost panted, running a careful claw down Shepherd's cheek. Shepherd caught his paw and pressed a kiss to its palm.
"Please, I don't want to think about whatever he and Gid are up to right now." He grimaced, although Frost could tell it was meant to be humorous.
"My apologies. I only mentioned it because I stole your hat for a reason, I would desperately like to make good on it." Frost chuckled.
"Apology accepted. Now let's see about you keepin' that promise." Shepherd replied gruffly.
It was only a short walk upstairs to his bedroom, but to Frost ever step felt like it took an age. He was ridiculously relived when they made it inside, and he pulled the door shut behind them. Shepherd stood in front of him, not touching him yet but close enough that all it would take was him reaching out to do so.
Frost went to take the Shepherd's hat off, to place it somewhere safe before the real action began, but Shepherd grabbed his hand and pinned his hand against the wall behind him. His eyes shone in the darkness, wild and passionate.
"Keep my hat on." Shepherd growled at him, pressing his body up against Frost's.
"Is that an order, Sheriff?" Frost teased him. He could feel his cock pressing hot against his thigh, and his own twitched in response.
"Yes." Shepherd retorted, and he leaned in to kiss him. As he did so, he undid Frost's shirt and waistcoat, and pushed them both off his shoulders. Frost shook them carelessly off his arms and threw them somewhere within the room. Usually he was fastidious, but right now he couldn't care less.
Shepherd ran his hands up his chest, fingers sinking into his plush fur and groping at the muscle underneath. Frost whined, an undignified noise, but one that spurred a satisfied one out of Shepherd, so in his mind it was worth it. He scrabbled at Shepherd's own shirt, trying to pull it off of him.
"Eager." He chuckled at him, tone just a touch superior.
"Of course." Frost responded, genuinely. "I find you very attractive, and I would like to see you naked, as soon as possible."
Shepherd gave him a long look, then pulled his own shirt off quicker than Frost would have been able to. The pair of them were still in their trousers, but there was a heady sense of anticipation in the air.
Shepherd grabbed his belt and tugged him in for a fierce kiss, deftly undoing it then reaching behind him to undo the buckle that kept his trousers shut over his tail. Frost had to admit that there was something attractive about a gesture that was so well-practised. He wondered how many lovers Shepherd had taken over the years. How many of them he'd seen for longer than an evening. Which camp he would end up in.
Shepherd busied himself with his own belt as he kissed Frost, and Frost allowed himself to explore his body with his hands. He ran his claws lightly down his back, grinning into the kiss at the hitch in breath it elicited. He did it again, harder this time, and Shepherd broke away from the kiss to cry out.
"If y' carry on doin' that, we ain't gonna make it much further than this door." Shepherd told him.
"Intriguing…" Frost hummed contemplatively. "But no, not this evening. Lie on the bed, on your back, please."
Not the most romantic way to state his intentions, but Frost was feeling a little too impatient for romance. While Shepherd stripped himself of his trousers and underwear and laid on the bed, back propped up against the headboard, Frost rooted through his bag for a vial of oil.
He crossed over to the bed, knelt up over Shepherd, uncorked the vial and slicked up two of his fingers, then reached behind himself to push them into himself. He hissed at the stretch, but he persevered, fucking them quickly in and out of himself. He looked over at Shepherd, who was gazing up at him, jaw slack.
"I woulda done that for ya." He said, gesturing to where Frost was opening himself up.
"Next time," Frost panted. He reached forwards, nudging the vial of oil towards Shepherd. "Slick yourself up with that, I'm almost ready."
He was a little less ready than strictly necessary, but Shepherd didn't need to know that. Frost watched appreciatively as Shepherd poured a liberal amount of oil into his palm, then wrapped a hand around his cock, coating it in the slippery liquid. Frost could see Shepherd's cock twitching in his own grasp, and Frost ached to have it inside of him.
He pulled his fingers out of himself, and crawled up the bed towards Shepherd, straddling him once more. He reached town and took his cock out of his grasp, lining it up with his hole.He bore down onto it, moaning as it stretched him open, bigger than his fingers had been. He didn't stop, though, working his hips down until his ass was flush with Shepherd's hips. He could feel Shepherd's tail twitching next to his. As his cock bottomed out in Frost, Shepherd let out a deep, almost wounded moan, that turned into a choked whine as Frost started to move.
Frost supposed it was cliché, perhaps even gauche, to ride a man while wearing his own hat, but as he rolled his hips up and down and watched Shepherd barely cling onto his last shred of self-restraint beneath him, he found he didn't care. He held onto the hat with one hand, the other lacing his fingers through Shepherd's and holding them close to his hip. He could feel his cock leaking, drops of precum sliding down it and dripping onto Shepherd's belly as he fucked himself on his cock. He hoped he could lap it up later.
The room was fairly quiet, beyond the creaks of the bed and their own gentle huffs and moans, the pair of them aware of the fact there were two others sleeping within the house. Shepherd tugged Frost down to kiss him, and Frost allowed himself to be pulled in by him, to let him push his tongue into his mouth. He broke away from the kiss to lick and bite and Shepherd's neck, grinning as the noises it pulled out of him.
It was after one particularly sharp bite – not hard enough to break the skin, but definitely hard enough to leave a mark – Shepherd sunk his fingers into his fur and gripped tightly, gasping sharply.
"Frost," Shepherd's voice was tense, warning. "I'm close."
"I'm aware." Frost replied, rolling his hips down, then back up again.
"Gotta get off, then, or-" Shepherd sounded a little frantic.
"If it's all the same to you, Sheriff, I think I'll stay right here." Frost told him, pushing back far enough to see Shepherd's eyes roll back in his head. He felt his cock twitch deep inside him, warmth flooding into him. He wrapped a hand around his cock and gave himself a few messy strokes, coming all over Shepherd's torso as he panted and writhed beneath him.
There was a moment, after they were cleaned up and Frost had climbed into bed, where Shepherd had looked towards the door, like he was supposed to be leaving.
"They won't be finished yet, you know." Frost told him, raising an eyebrow at him and pulling back the covers, gesturing for him to join him. "Come on, Sheriff, there's a citizen that will freeze without your presence."
"That ain't true an' you know it, it's a mild night." Shepherd grumbled, but he got into bed next to Frost all the same. He lay next to him, a little awkwardly, not yet touching him. Frost had no such qualms, throwing his leg over his and laying his head on his chest.
"Tomorrow, you can be the one that puts the effort in." He told him simply, rubbing his face against his chest and the soft patch of hair that grew there. Shepherd huffed out a laugh, reaching down to gently pet down Frost's back.
"Shoulda know you'd make this into a competition." He said, amusement clear in his voice.
"Competition implies there won't be a clear winner." Frost yawned.
"Hey! I-" Shepherd started to protest. Frost cut him off with a pointed look.
"It will be me, of course, as I will have gotten the pleasure of sleeping with you twice." He told him, before closing his eyes again and snuggling into his chest.
"Oh! Huh." Shepherd said softly, scratching him gently between the ears. Frost pushed his head up into his hand. "That's real nice of ya, Frost."
He sounded genuinely touched.
"Shush. I'm going to sleep." Frost told him imperiously, although he was smiling to himself.
"Alright. Good night, Frost."
"Good night, Shepherd."
As he drifted off to sleep, Frost was taken by how strange fate was, and how of all the things he could have guessed would have happened when they came to Eden, this certainly wasn't one of them.