8 Even I am not immune

Three days later.

On a road between the river and paddocks, two miserable ponies trudged through the pouring rain. Their legs were matted with mud up to the knee. They pulled a covered wagon, a hooded man in the driver's seat.

A nasally voice came from the wagon. "Can you see it? Just up there."

The driver responded. "I see it." He directed the ponies towards a grove. Inside, it opened up into a small clearing. The man jumped down from the wagon. Water immediately flowed into his boots. The man sighed and carefully pulled them out of the mud.

As soon as he released the ponies, they hurried under the shelter of a tall oak. Even the tree couldn't stop a lake forming, but at least they could breathe. The man brought them some oats and cleaned their fetlocks, before he went back into the shelter of the wagon.

Lukin Whitlow huddled against a box, wrapped in layers of clothing and blankets. "Thanks Vardi. Sorry to make you do everything."

"It's fine." Vardimann hung his cloak on a hook above the plants, where they would catch the water. "I'm more worried about you. You haven't stopped shivering."

Whitlow chuckled. "Even a doctor gets sick sometimes. I'll be fine." He blew his nose.

Vardimann pulled off his shoes and emptied them into the pots. "From the looks of it, we're going to be stuck here for at least a day, and we can't build a fire in here. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Yes!" Whitlow shook his head. Vardimann had given him all his spare clothing and had been outside for hours, wasn't he cold? The cloak wasn't good enough to keep all the water out, so the front of his white shirt had turned semi-transparent and stuck to the skin. On his right side, the cotton was plastered around several long and thin scars. They were nearly symmetrical, like claw marks.

"Those wounds..."

"Hmm?"

"On your waist. They look like wounds from a bear, but smaller."

Vardimann touched his side. "Yeah, it was a young bear. Bit of a runt."

"How did it get there, were you hugging it?" Whitlow reached out. "Can I have a look?"

Vardimann leaned back. "There's no point. I got them six years ago, not much you can do now."

"I guess you're right." The doctor retreated into his cocoon of blankets. He suddenly shivered violently.

"Okay, that's enough. Lie down, try and get some sleep."

Whitlow nodded. His bedding was on the floor between the pots and crates, with no spare room. He lay on his side so that Vardimann would have space for his feet. Behind him, he heard rustling sounds. After the sounds stopped, he felt the wagon's weight shifting. Then he jumped as an arm suddenly wrapped around him.

"Sorry to surprise you. Can you rearrange the blankets so that I can get under?"

Whitlow was stunned. "You, you want to get into bed with me?"

"Yeah. You're cold, so I want to keep you warm." Vardimann pulled up a corner of the blanket. "Also, if I tried to sleep outside I would drown."

Whitlow imagined Vardi sleeping underwater, snoozing bubbles. He nearly laughed. "I must be getting delirious from the fever. All right, you can come in."

Vardimann worked his way under the layers until he found access to the doctor's body. He snuggled up against his back, pulling the blankets over.

There was a brief moment of silence. Whitlow spoke. "You took your shirt off."

"Yep. It was wet."

"…your pants were also wet."

"…yep."

Whitlow closed his eyes and tried to control the rising heat in his body. "You're naked. Completely. Naked"

"I am still wearing my underwear. But yeah, please don't turn around."

"Vardi…I can feel your crotch. It's pressing against my ass."

"Whoops." Vardimann shifted his hips. "Sorry." He nestled his head against Whitlow's shoulder. "At home, everybody sleeps in the one room, so we always sleep together like this. Haven't done it in a while though. And we usually wear clothes."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I had to stop when I was fourteen because it hurt." Long black hair touched his nose but didn't tickle. He smelled nice, like herbs. It was cosy.

"Hurt? What hurt?"

There was no reply. Vardimann was already fast asleep. Whitlow closed his eyes in exasperation. This man. Was he really as innocent as he appeared to be?

Whitlow took a deep breath, attempting to calm down his racing heart. He had to admit, it was warmer like this. There was just a small problem: the arm over his waist was a little bit too close to a certain area. He gently moved it away.

Vardimann shifted, unconsciously reaching out and pulling the other closer.

With a male's entire front half pressed against his back half, Whitlow resigned himself to a sleepless night.

The sky still hadn't stopped crying the next morning. Surprisingly, Whitlow had actually managed to get some sleep, despite certain obstacles. His nose had cleared up too, but his throat was even sorer than yesterday. He started coughing dryly.

"You're awake! Hang on, I'll get you a drink." Vardimann rolled over to get the water. Whitlow sipped at the bottle, coughing in between sips. Vardimann rested a hand against his forehead. "Your fever's gone down, that's good." He looked outside. While it was still raining, it had eased up a bit. The ponies stood drowsily under the tree. Most of the groundwater had drained away, leaving the raised ground under the tree muddy.

Whitlow's coughs had eased somewhat. Vardimann took the opportunity to get some clothes on while he was still facing away. "I'm going to see if I can make you some tea for your throat." Whitlow nodded. Vardimann made sure he was tucked in and want out into the rain, bent over to keep the kindling dry.

It took a few goes, but he was able to start a small fire under the tree. The horses nudged his face, silently asking for food. He pushed them away before they knocked over the pot, reluctant to abandon his hard work. "I know, I'll feed you later." Once the water boiled, he poured it over the tea leaves.

Vardimann gave the tea to the doctor, who sat up against the boxes to drink it. He went back out to feed the horses and inspect the wagon wheels.

He went back in the wagon and dripped on the boxes. "The wheels are completely submerged in mud. I don't think we're moving today either."

Whitlow nodded. "That's usually the case here. It's unfortunate." He coughed. "This is the only place you can get off the road, but it turns into a lake when it rains." He drank some more tea. Too bad they didn't have any honey.

Vardimann lay down. His clothes were uncomfortably damp and he wished he could take them off.

The doctor glanced over, and immediately wished he hadn't. While that white fabric wasn't so wet as to be transparent, it clung to the pecs and nipples. He looked away. "It isn't good to wear damp clothing. Take off your shirt and cover yourself with this." He peeled off the top layer of his cocoon.

Vardimann took the blanket. "Um, okay. Can you…" he gestured.

Whitlow turned away and focused on his cup. Over the rustling, he heard Vardi say, "Why don't I just get back in with you? It'll be warmer to share."

"No. Your hugging habit is troublesome. I also don't want to have to deal with your nudity while awake."

Vardimann chuckled. "Fair point. Then…" he sat next to Whitlow in a cocoon of his own. "Can we share if I'm wearing clothes and facing the other way?"

"Why are you so persistent?"

"W-well. It felt nice." Whitlow saw his expression. "It made me realise that I've actually been rather lonely, physically."

"Physically lonely."

Vardimann nodded.

"Vardi..." Whitlow leaned back. "You need to visit a brothel."

"What's a brothel?"

"It's where you pay someone to have sex with you."

Vardimann nodded. "What's sex?"

"..."

"You're joking, right?"

"I'm not joking. I really don't know."

Whitlow remembered Vardi's confusion about the signpost. But still, this was different. This guy was nearly twenty, he should know about sex by now.

He went to clear his throat and started coughing instead. Vardimann waited for him to catch his breath and take another sip of his tea. "So, what is sex?"

The doctor closed his eyes. He didn't really have a choice. "Sex is a physical act that can result in pregnancy, which leads to babies."

"Oh! You mean breeding."

Whitlow paused. "...yes. But the term "breeding" is usually used for animals, whereas the term "sex" is used for people."

"Okay." Vardimann nodded understandingly. "Where I come from, we just use "breeding" for both animals and people." He frowned. "But why would you tell me to breed with someone? I'm not looking to make another baby."

"You said you were physically lonely, so I assumed you desired sex."

"If I wanted...sex, I would have asked for it." He wrinkled his nose. "Sex is short and boring. I'd much rather cuddle and talk."

Whitlow facepalmed. "Sex is boring. Are you a weirdo with a kink, or are you just not physically capable?"

"What's a kink?"

Whitlow hid his face. "I don't want to continue this conversation anymore."

"..."

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