WARNING: Graphic description of male-male sex.

A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. - Proverbs 17:17

Josiah found him sitting alone in the church that hot summer night, head hanging down, shoulders slumped forward, hands hanging limply between his knees. His long hair hung around his face, his slouch hat setting near by on the pew. It was a picture of pure dejection, made worse by the darkness. There was no light in the church except for the low illumination reflecting through the windows from the street fires burning outside, and that cast the younger man in dark, reddish-orange shadows that made him appear to be chiseled from the desert sandstone.

As he stood there, frowning with concern, Josiah saw the man's shoulders start to shake and knew that he was crying.

Concern and worry forced him closer to the troubled, hurting man, who seemed oblivious to his presence. The quiet, strangled sob that reached the preacher's ears made the older man's heart ache. What in Heaven, or Hell, could cause the man so much pain?

Stopping just behind the occupied pew, he hesitated, not wishing to intrude on the man's grief, but desperately wanting to help his friend. Finally, he called softly, "Vin?"

Tanner jerked and came up to his feet in a move so swift it startled the former preacher. Josiah blinked and saw the Mare's Leg had slid into the tracker's hands with practiced ease. He raised his hands away from his body, palms facing out so the startled man could see he was unarmed.

"Easy, brother," he said soothingly.

Vin quickly jerked the weapon away from the older man, then slid it back into its custom-made holster. He turned and dropped back onto the pew as if the last bit of his energy had just deserted him. "Go 'way, J'siah," he managed to slur.

The big man sighed softly, knowing he couldn't leave Vin like this – at least, not until he had some clue as to what was wrong. So, he took a deep breath, glanced heavenward and prayed silently, Please, Lord, let me offer succor to his good man. Then he stepped up and slid into the pew alongside Tanner, knowing he was probably risking his life with the action.

"Something troubles you," he said softly, his deep voice rumbling in the empty church. "Let me help."

"Jus' want t' be left alone," Vin replied, scooting a little farther away.

"Can't do it," Josiah replied softly, his deep voice still rumbling. "But I won't crowd you; I'll just sit here. I just want you to know that you're not alone, Vin. Whatever it is, your burden is shared."

Vin's chin came up just slightly and he turned his head so he could look at the former priest. "Y' can't help me," he said softly, his voice full of self-loathing. "Always knew I was goin' t' Hell anyway…"

Josiah frowned. "You have a good heart, Vin Tanner."

The tracker shook his head, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "M' head's full of evil," he said.

"I find that hard to believe, brother."

"It's true," Vin nearly moaned. "Can't git it out. I tried, but it keeps comin' back t' plague me."

Josiah took a long, deep breath and blew it out softly. "Tell me what you're talking about," he instructed quietly.

"Hell, J'siah, I can't! It ain't– It ain't– There ain't no words fer it!" he lamented.

"Then just tell me the best you can," Josiah urged. "I've traveled far and I've seem some things we have no words for."

Vin met and held the older man's gaze, trying to work up the courage, but it was hard. "I got a feelin' inside me… don't know what it c'n be… but it's there, an' it's bad."

Josiah smiled kindly. "There is that in me… I do not know what it is…. but I know it is in me… I do not know it… it is without name… a word unsaid."

Vin's troubled blue eyes rounded with surprise and he nodded slowly. "That's how I feel."

"Tell me more, brother. Unburden your soul and tell me what troubles you so much. You know I won't judge you."

Vin took a deep breath and leaned back against the pew. He reached up and ran his hands over his hair, saying, "I got this devil inside me, J'siah, whisperin' t' me 'bout things that jist ain't right."

"What does it tell you?" he asked Tanner, turning on the pew so he could more easily watch the younger man's face.

Vin hesitated a moment, then dipped his head and whispered, "It talks 'bout things ain't proper fer folks t' speak on… a hunger I ain't never felt b'fore that's been clawin' at m' innards."

Josiah cocked his head to the side, his expression turning thoughtful. "Through me forbidden voices / Voices of sexes and lusts… voices veiled, and I remove the veil / Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigured."

Vin nodded. "Yer words… they say it better 'n mine."

"Not my words," Josiah told him. "They're the words of a poet I met once. I heard a man say something similar to him."

"Maybe he knew what 'm feelin'," Vin said, then sighed and shook his head.

"What are you feelin'?" Josiah asked him.

A heavy sigh was the only answer the preacher thought he might get, but then Vin slid down on the pew and leaned his head back against the wood and said, "I know it's wrong in this world, but I got these feelin's…"

"For?"

"Fer… Ah hell… fer Chris."

Josiah allowed the small smile to escape onto his lips. "That's not exactly a surprise to me, Vin," he said.

"The wrong kind 'a feelin's, J'siah… The wrong kind."

And then the preacher really understood. His young friend and the poet were more alike than he had first guessed. "You said these feeling of yours were wrong in this world?"

Vin hesitated a moment, then said, "Y' spent some time with the Indians, y' know how things ain't always the same with them as with white folks."

The defrocked priest nodded. "That's true. I think they see clearer the glory of God in some ways… and the hearts of men."

Tanner nodded his agreement. "They don't worry over who they love, court, or lie with on a cold night."

"Some do," Josiah offered.

Vin nodded. "Some, that's true 'nough. An' some don't. Saw a woman who fought with the men 'n' married 'nother woman. She loved her like a wife… in all ways, if y' git m' meanin'."

"I've heard stories like that," Josiah said. "Saw some braves who dressed like women and married other warriors, too."

"Saw that, too," Vin agreed, nodding. "But there were other men, strong men, J'siah, warriors who were brave and fearless, who trembled under the touch of 'nother man."

The former priest nodded. "Yes, I've met a few men like that; white men, too."

Vin turned his head and looked at the preacher. "White men?"

Josiah nodded. "The poet I mentioned. I met him before the war, a Mr. Walt Whitman, who wrote a book of poems, Leaves of Grass. It's since been revised a couple of times, maybe more. And he and the other men who flocked around him were all men who sought manly love." He chuckled softly to himself. "But that's lusty, brother, I can tell you that. Lusty and painfully beautiful in a way I have no words to describe."

"They kill this fella, the poet?"

Josiah laughed, louder this time. "No. Oh no, he's still a poet. Famous, too."

Vin looked a little confused. "But… But I heard the preachers talk 'bout the sodomites, 'n' I saw what happened when– When I's in the war, two men that lay with one 'nother, they– The major called it 'improper' an' 'indecent' and he had 'em whipped 'til they both bled t' death."

Josiah shook his head. "So some say, but even the good Lord cured the young companion of a Roman officer when he asked it of Him."

"What 'm I goin' t' do, J'siah?" the tracker asked him, his tone pleading.

"What do you want to happen?"

"Don't matter what I want. Ain't goin' t' git what I want. Jus' need t' know what I c'n do t' stop these feelin's."

"Tell me what you want anyway," the preacher urged him.

A long silence fell between them, but Josiah waited, knowing Vin would tell him when he was ready. And then, finally, the tracker said softly, "I want t' spend m' life with 'im… Want t' love 'im and be loved… Want t' lie with 'im and feel 'im with me."

"And you think this can never happen?"

"No, it can't," was the painfully honest reply.

"Never give up faith, brother."

"Ain't faith, J'siah, jus' know it ain't goin' t' happen is all… and it sparks a pain inside so bad I can't hardly stand it." He looked at the older man and asked, "That poet 'a yers, he ever hurt like that?"

"I think maybe he did."

"Tell me some more 'a his words, J'siah."

The preacher thought for a moment, then recited, "The expression of a well made man… is in his limbs and joints…. The strong sweet supple quality he has strikes though the cotton and flannel… You linger to see his back and the back of his neck and shoudlerside."

Vin sucked in a sharp, soft breath and closed his eyes. "Mmm," he agreed.

"There's no sin in love, Vin, I believe that with all my heart. And if that love be for woman, or for man, it makes no difference, so long as it's love and not lust."

"Wouldn't be so bad," Vin said quietly, "if I knew what I's missin'. If I knew what it was I wanted, but I don't know, not really."

"You've lain with women."

Tanner nodded. "But it never touched me, not down inside m' soul where I ache now."

And then, without Josiah really realizing how it happened, Vin was curled onto his side, lying on the pew, his head resting in the former priest's lap. And Josiah stroked the tracker's head and shoulder while Vin cried, silently but with sobs that shook his body like a strong, pummeling wind.

How long the emotional storm lasted, Josiah wasn't sure, but when it eased, Vin was left adrift, his soul weak and sad. And, not knowing what else to do, Josiah scooped him up and carried him to his bed in the small living quarters attached to the church he was restoring.

Sitting Tanner down on the edge, Josiah helped him out of his coat and shirt, then laid him back and took off his boots and pants. Confused, pain-filled blue eyes stared up at him and Josiah's heart ached to erase that agony, but he didn't know how. He undressed and climbed in next to the smaller man, drawing the blankets up over them and holding Vin close, murmuring soft words of encouragement.

And, as he spoke, Josiah's hands rubbed over the tracker's trembling body. When his fingertips strayed too low, he felt the thrust of Vin's arousal and it ignited in the older man a passion he hadn't felt in too many years to remember.

"The curious roamer, the hand," he recited, fingertips straying over the tracker's hard twin nipples, "roaming all over the body – the bashful withdrawing of flesh where the fingers soothingly pause and edge themselves…" he continued, opening the buttons on Vin's long johns and reaching in to rub over the pebbled nubs. He was surprised to find Vin's chest covered by a fine mat of soft hair, and his fingers moved through it, this time dipping down once again.

"The limpid liquid within the young man, the vexed corrosion, so pensive and so painful," he whispered, his hand brushing over the tracker's straining cock head, coated with the dew of passion. "The torment, the irritable tide that will not rest, the like of the same I feel, the like of the same in others…."

"It hurts, J'siah," Vin whispered, his face pressed tight against the older man's chest. "It hurts worse 'n gettin' shot."

"I know," the preacher replied, his hand closing around the man's rigid shaft. "I started talking to Whitman one night – a conversation that lasted 'til dawn – and he told me how he desired bold young men of few words who spoke their love in native forms… and in his poetry he commanded them to take what I have then… take the white tears of my blood, if that is what you are after. Those hot wishes you dare not speak are not the evil you think they are, Vin. I can't believe that. I met men that year who were gentle and kind, intelligent and compassionate. They were beautiful, inside and out, and they showed me their passion and their desires. It wasn't evil, Vin. It was… spiritual… and in India–"

"Show me, J'siah," the tracker breathed against the man's chest.

The older man squeezed his eyes closed and fought back the surge of desire that filled him and left him aching and wanting. "Ah, Vin, Lord knows I want to, but I'm not the one you want."

"Never goin' t' get the one I want," he replied sadly. "C'n y' teach me how t' make the pain go away?"

"No," the preacher admitted sadly. "That pain might never go away, Vin. The desires of the heart, well, they're powerful, especially if they're pure. And I know the feelings you have for Chris are pure."

"I can't keep goin' like this," Vin said, his tone one of utter defeat. "'M goin' t' give m'self away an' I'll lose 'im fer sure… God, it hurts!"

"Shh," Josiah said, reaching up to stroke the back of Vin's head with one hand, the other still wrapped firmly around the tracker's engorged, throbbing cock." He couldn't let it go, his fingers refusing his silent command to uncurl. He wanted to help Vin. He wanted to show him what passion between two men could be like, passion like he had experienced back then, before the war, in the company of poets and philosophers who had sharpened his mind and awakened his body to pleasures both new and dazzling.

He hadn't been in love with any of them. He hadn't wanted to spend his life with any of them, but he had reveled in the pleasures they had shown him. Couldn't he do the same for Vin?

He felt the tracker's warm tears soaking into the cotton of his undershirt and hugged the younger man tighter against him. It hurt him to see Vin in so much pain, but he was afraid to act. Afraid that if he did, his own feelings might rise up and overpower him.

There had been other men in the past who had ignited his passions, men who had fired his imagination, but none of them had wrapped up his heart so completely as the small, silent tracker who had walked into his life to become his friend, his brother.

He had shared his secrets and his fears with Nathan, who Josiah considered his best friend in the world, but there was just something about Vin Tanner that warmed his heart in a way no one else had ever managed. Maybe it was just the way the younger man had refused to let him punish himself for his sister's illness, proving his innocence even when Josiah was ready to be condemned. Or maybe it was the way he had fought for Chanu when everyone else was ready to pronounce the boy guilty of crimes he hadn't committed. There was just something about Vin – a quiet dignity, and some deep understanding that Josiah had sought for across years and continents.

Or maybe it was just Tanner's innate sense of right and wrong, of justice and fairness, learned in the crucible of a hard life, not from books or a pulpit. But, whatever it was, it had touched something long buried in the older man and had awakened that old longing the poets had first awakened.

And now here he was, lying with Vin, who was almost begging him to love him, and he was frozen with indecision. His balance was lost. In large part, he knew, because it was Larabee the man wanted to be with. But that was a pairing that stood little chance of occurring. Could he love Vin and then lose him to Chris? Could he love him and release him to try and find his heart's true desire?

Could he say no?

"That which is thine with thy brother, thine hand shall release," Josiah whispered into the tracker's long hair as his hand slid up Vin's aching shaft, his fingers curling over the wide, flared head and squeezing.

Vin moaned softly and rocked his hips, pressing his cock into Josiah's hand again and again. "Feels like 'm goin' t' bust open," he moaned softly.

"Easy," Josiah said soothingly, knowing he couldn't stand to see the man in pain any longer. "I'll show you," he said. "I'll show you what I was shown, many years ago by the poets and the philosophers… the artists and the princes."

"Y'd give me a gift like that?" Vin asked in an awed hush.

"A gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of him that hath it; whithersoever it turneth, it prospereth."

And with that, Josiah pushed Vin back over onto his back, his large, gentle hands quickly, deftly, undressing the tracker. Then he leaned over the smaller man and kissed his neck, flicking his tongue across the salty skin.

"J'siah," Vin whispered, eyes closing as he twisted under him. "Feels s' good."

The preacher slid his tongue to that spot where Vin's neck met his shoulders, kissing the hollow of his throat as one hand slid under the tracker's buttocks and squeezed. Tanner gasped softly and arched his back.

A few moments later, Vin pulled his head away and smiled coyly up at the older man. "Will y' take me, J'siah?"

"Vin, I don't know–"

"Please," the tracker begged. "Seen it done b'for an' it still haunts me at night. I want t' try… I want t' feel–"

Josiah leaned over again and kissed his lips, losing himself in the velvety smoothness of Tanner's skin, a contrast to the soft stubble on his chin. Vin moaned a little as the preacher continued to kiss his neck and squeeze his buttock with one hand. With his other hand, he reached up and pulled on one of the tracker's nipples, winning a small gasp of pleasure and surprise.

Josiah shifted on the bed.

Vin's cock was pressed tight against his lower belly and Josiah ran his tongue along the underside, stopping just before he reached the flared head, than started back down the shaft.

The tracker's fingers curled into the bedsheets and he groaned, a low, deep sound of desire too long denied.

Josiah took Vin's balls into his mouth and applied gentle pressure, just enough to make the tracker moan again, but not enough to cause him any pain. He let them slide around in his mouth and brush up against his teeth as his tongue nudged them from side to side.

The tracker moaned and tossed.

Josiah moved his mouth to Vin's inner thighs, kissing softly, nipping at the delicate skin stretching from crotch to just inside the man's knee. Then he worked his way back up the other leg.

Tanner moaned gratefully, nothing having ever felt like this before.

Josiah's tongue slid back to the base of the tracker's cock and then up toward the head, which he slipped into his mouth, foreskin retreating completely under the pressure of his lips. He started to suck gently on the head, swirling his tongue around it before dipping teasingly into the slit. He could feel Vin beginning to tremble a little.

Then he took the tracker's entire cock into his mouth.

Vin began to grind his hips back and forth, his cock sliding slowly, gently, in and out of the older man's mouth.

Josiah pulled away and Vin moaned, tossing his head from side to side in protest to the loss of sensation. Straightening, the preacher slipped out of his long johns, his own cock swollen and hard. Then he shifted between the man's open legs and kneeled over Vin, taking the tracker's cock back into his mouth, licking the head for a few moments, sliding his tongue along the slit. Then he swallowed the shaft as he reached up and took a nipple in each hand, pinching them gently and pulling on them.

A gasp escaped Vin's lips and his body went rigid. He jerked away and rolled over. He arched his back and lifted his ass into the air.

"Take me, J'siah," he whispered. "Please…"

The preacher rose onto his knees and spat into his hand, running the wetness over his shaft, which was already leaking enough to make him slick.

The tracker gasped when he felt the pressure of Josiah's cock head against is hole. He went rigid for an instant, then relaxed and the older man's cock slowly started to slide into him.

Even as the tracker relaxed and opened for him, Josiah saw the muscles in Vin's back and shoulders tense with anticipation. He reached down and kneaded Tanner's shoulders, digging his fingers gently into the man's flesh and moving them with slightly increasing pressure.

Vin moaned and gasped again as Josiah moved deeper inside of him, the older man only stopping when he cried out; his cock about halfway in.

The preacher moved his hips backward and slowly slid out. Tanner's entire body went rigid.

Josiah stopped when only the head of his cock remained inside the smaller man, and then began to press forward again. To try and loosen the younger man up a bit, he began to move his hips in a small, circular motion.

Vin moaned and balled his hands into fists.

"You like that?" Josiah whispered.

"Yeah… I like that," Vin said breathlessly.

Once again Josiah was a little more than halfway inside Tanner when he met resistance. This time he leaned forward and kissed the back of Vin's neck.

"Ooohhh…" the tracker sighed.

Josiah pulled back a little, and then slid forward again, a little farther this time. He pulled back again and, finally, Vin opened up for him completely. His cock slid all the way in, his balls slapping lightly against the tracker's. He grabbed Tanner's shoulders and pulled him back.

Vin moaned gratefully.

For several seconds the two men remained still, Josiah buried fully inside Vin, holding him – until Tanner began to move his ass back and forth.

The preacher released Vin's shoulders, pulled back, and slid almost completely out. Vin began to gasp, but Josiah moved slowly, beginning to enjoy the feeling of the tracker's ass tightening around his cock and gripping it as he gently pumped in and out.

The older man's eyes closed briefly as Vin began to press his ass back toward him as he slid into him, slowly at first, then faster as Vin tried to drive Josiah deeper inside him. Josiah teased him with his cock; pulling out, leaving just the head inside and waiting for Vin to shove his hips backward to force him back inside. Beads of sweat glistened on the tracker's back.

Finally, the older man had had enough of teasing the tracker's ass, and he started moving faster to match the rhythm Vin set. He drove deeper into Tanner, trying to reach his core, the very center of his being. His cock grew harder, thicker, and longer as he loved the man. The golden skin sparkled beneath the sheen of sweat on the tracker's back. Josiah began to sweat as well; it trickled from his hairline, falling off his chin and onto that beautiful back.

Josiah's balls ached for release, but he wasn't ready. He wanted to keep loving Vin, to keep pounding away at his beautiful ass while Tanner writhed and gasped beneath him.

"Gigantic beauty of a stallion," Josiah gasped, reaching under the man to grab Vin's engorged cock and begin to squeeze and pull, "fresh and responsive to my caresses… my heels embrace him… his well built limbs… tremble with pleasure…"

The words seem to penetrate the tracker like Josiah's cock and Vin grunted, gasped and his body began to shudder as he came. His hot seed filled Josiah's hand and spilled out between his fingers.

Josiah's entire body arched and went rigid; he was shooting his seed into the younger man's body. He convulsed as his cock emptied itself and his skin twitched and tingled with feelings and emotions too long denied.

Afterwards, they stayed frozen in that intimate embrace for a few moments, until Josiah's cock softened inside Vin and they slowly returned to earth.

Vin slid away from the older man's cock and turned around to face him. Tanner's face and hair were damp with sweat. He smiled and his heaven-deep gaze enveloped Josiah.

The preacher leaned forward and kissed him.

They didn't speak as they both lay back down together, Vin pressed close beside Josiah, who curled his arms around him and pulled him close. They kissed once, tenderly, without passion but with great feeling.

Holding the tracker felt so right, but Josiah was afraid this would be his only chance for such pleasure, such joy.

"For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night… In the stillness, in the autumn moonbeams, his face was inclined toward me… And his arm lay lightly around my breast… And that night I was happy."

"Are y' happy, J'siah?" Vin asked softly, his arm tightening over the older man's chest.

"At this moment, yes, I truly am."

"Me, too."

The preacher's heart lurched at the words.

"Y' sure know some mighty purty words," the tracker added.

"I've always been drawn to things of beauty," the former priest replied. "Words, paintings, places… people."

Vin snorted softly. "Hell, J'siah, ain't nothin' 'bout me y' c'n call a thing 'a beauty."

The preacher chuckled softly, the sound rumbling from his chest like the affectionate growl of a bear. "I can't begin to tell you how wrong you are, Vin Tanner."

"Never felt nothin' like that," the tracker said softly. "That was a thing a beauty… never felt so… full… like I'd woke t' see a perfect sunrise an' found it was in m' heart, not jist m' eyes… a part 'a me."

Josiah hugged his buckskin poet closer and kissed the top of his head. "I'll say it again. You're an amazing man, Vin Tanner," he whispered and felt the tracker smile.

"Yer purty amazin' yerself, J'siah."

They lay in silence for a time, Josiah drifting on the edge of dozing, but he came fully awake when Vin whispered, "Y' done me a helluva favor t'night, an' I'll never ferget it."

"It's only a favor if you want it to be," Josiah replied softly, one hand running lightly over the tracker's bare back. "It could just as easily be the start of something new…" He let his words trail off, not sure if what he was asking the younger man was really fair. After all, he loved another.

"The start?" came a small, hopeful reply.

"Mmm," Josiah replied, feeling the tracker's cock beginning to swell against his leg. "If I can keep up with you."

It was Vin's turn to chuckle. "I'll make sure y' do," he promised.

END
Continues in To Love One Another

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Author's Note: This story first appeared in the Mag 7 zine, Seven Card Stud #3, published by Neon RainBow Press, Cinda Gillilan and Jody Norman, editors. When we all decided to post the stories that have appeared in the issues of Seven Card Stud that are more than two years old, we opted to use a generic pen name because, while Aspen Glennbearn (aka Michelle Fortado) is the primary author of this story, she had so much help from the other folks writing for the press that it just made sense to consider the story to be written by the Neon RainBow Press Collective! Resistance was futile. So, thanks to the whole Neon Gang ? Sierra Chaves, Michelle Fortado, Patricia Grace, Erica Michaels, Nina Talbot, Kasey Tucker, and Lorin and Mary Fallon Zane. Story last edited 6-23-2005. The art is by Shiloh! The poetry Josiah is quoting is from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass (1855, 1856, and 1860 editions) as well as the Bible.