Tristan's eyes widened perceptibly as they traced a drop of water down the line of Gabriel's jaw to the cords of his neck, finally tracking the chiseled muscles of his chest and abdomen until it disappeared beneath his waistband. He jerked his head up to find himself being studied by a pair of quizzical grey eyes.

"Tristan," the smith began hesitantly, "is there something you want to tell me?" He watched as the redhead moved closer, until he could almost feel the heat of his skin.

"Are you my friend Gabriel?" he whispered almost desperately, "I need someone or I'm going to go mad."

"Of course I'm your friend . . . I let you sleep in my bed, didn't I?" Gabriel husked, reaching a hand out to smooth tousled red locks. "Your hair is a mess.", he teased, "it looks like you rolled down a hill."

"Oh, and that's a fine look you're sporting.", was the playful retort as jade eyes took in the cloud of silky black hair that had escaped Gabriel's low tail. "You look like a storm cloud."
"Are you hungry?", the smith asked, "Or is the thought of food too horrible to comprehend?"

Tristan appeared to consider it for a moment before nodding vigorously. "Food would be great.", he declared, "Would you like me to help?"

"That would be nice.", Gabriel responded in the voice Tristan rapidly was becoming enamored with, "How do potato cakes sound?"

"Anything you want.", came the dazed response.

"So," Gabriel broke the silence that had fallen between them when he put the food on the fire, "what brought you to my doorstep in such a state anyway?"

"We were going to go to the pub . . . remember?", came the soft reply, "Only . . . I wasn't sure if you'd want to be seen with me or not. I had a few to strengthen my courage first . . . bad idea huh?"

"I went to the pub the night we met hoping to run into you.", the smith admitted, "But, of course, you weren't there. I guess I'm lonelier than I thought." he declared wryly.

"Gabriel . . . there's something you should know . . . about me, about why I'm here." Tristan began hesitantly, "I was . . . involved with someone my father didn't approve of."

"Danny?" the smith queried perceptively.

Tristan paled even further, if that were possible, before responding in a shaken voice, "How do you know about . . ."

"When I was putting you to bed you called me Danny.", Gabriel stated huskily, "I just guessed . . . I'm sorry if I've upset you."

"No it's . . .", Tristan stammered uncertainly before squaring his shoulders and looking the other man in the eye determinedly for a moment, then losing his nerve and dropping his gaze, "So," he continued bitterly, "now that you know are you totally disgusted with me?"

"Of course not," Gabriel soothed, bringing up a hand to cup a pale cheek and raise Tristan's face to meet his eyes, "Who you love is none of my business. Besides," he continued in a somewhat shaky voice, "I've had some confusing dreams myself the past couple of days . . . since I found out that . . . you know."

"That I'm a deviant and a pervert?" Jade eyes hardened as Tristan began to pull away from the touch.

"No," came the firm reply, even as a calloused hand held him in place, "that the thought of two men together is . . . arousing." Gabriel kept his gaze locked with wary eyes, ones that he was only now realizing were dotted with flecks of bronze, as he leaned to place a tentative kiss on Tristan's furrowed brow before pulling him into a tight embrace. He gently rested his chin on soft tousled strands as his strong hand stroked soothingly up and down the redhead's spine. "Is this okay?" he finally ventured tentatively, "I just . . . I . . . I like you and," his voice dropped to a whisper, "I think I'm attracted to you . . . please say something."

"I think you should stop before you do something you'll regret.", Tristan finally said as he disentangled himself and stepped back, "I've got to get going . . . I'll be seeing you." He snagged his shoes and bolted for the door, stopping with his hand on the latch to whisper sincerely, "I feel the same way, you know.", before disappearing completely.

Well, I managed to screw that up completely, Gabriel thought disparagingly as the door clicked shut behind his departing guest, He's in love with someone else stupid, his silent rant continued, of course he doesn't feel anything for me.

He quickly cleaned up and headed to the forge, eager to lose himself in the distraction of hammer and flame . . . but for the first time Gabriel found himself unable to surrender his thoughts. I'll make him something, he finally decided, as an apology for being so forward. Immediately his mind began casting about for the perfect gift, but to his dismay he realized he knew next to nothing about Tristan.

Okay, let's try a different approach, he continued, what does he make me think of? Gabriel let his mind sketch the redhead, smiling slightly at the memories. Warm, funny, definitely masculine . . . wonderful smile, beautiful eyes, the list went on and on, and he eventually forgot his original intentions, losing himself in daydreams.

Tristan snuck around toward the kitchen at the rear of the estate, hoping to slip inside unnoticed and make it to his room. The last thing I need is for Father to know I was out all night, he thought with a shudder. He reached the entrance undetected and breathed a sigh of relief, only to come face to face with his enraged sire.

"Just where have you been all night?", the senior Gallavan bellowed, "Carousing, no doubt."

"I went into the village for a drink.", came the tight-lipped response, "That's hardly a crime."

"A drink that lasted until noon the next day? I didn't bring you back here so you could get up to more of the same antics Tristan.", his father growled angrily, "Now answer my question . . . where were you all night?"

"I was drunk and I banged on the door at the blacksmith's, I couldn't make it any further. He let me sleep in the forge . . . happy?" Tristan replied bitterly, anxious for the confrontation to end so he could make his escape.
His father searched his memories until he could picture the local smith. A rather elderly man, almost as broad as he was tall, hardly a likely candidate for a tryst with his wayward son. "And he will confirm this?"

"Yes. Now, may I go to my rooms? I am in desperate need of a bath and clean clothes." Tristan growled, hands clenched in frustration.

"Don't leave the grounds.", his father warned, "Lord and Lady Foote are bringing their daughter Elsbeth for tea. I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"I am not marrying Elsbeth Foote.", Tristan retorted nastily, "She's hairy and always smells of fish."

"Tristan!", came the scandalized bark, "Watch your tongue. She is an excellent match."

"She has no redeeming qualities." the redhead insisted, "None what so ever. At least don't insult me by parading the same tired old maids in front of me. I've already rejected them all. And as far as Elsbeth Foote goes," he continued as he headed for the stairs, "I'd be surprised if she shows . . . I was rather," Tristan paused briefly as if searching for just the right word, "blunt at our last meeting."

"Just make sure you show up this evening.", his father warned, "You should be happy anyone will consider you. News of your indiscretion is spreading like wildfire."

"It wasn't an indiscretion Father . . . I was in love.", Tristan replied sadly, "At least until you got involved. I'll never forgive you for what you did, you had no right to meddle in my life."

"I had every right, you are my son and my heir," his father roared, "you should be happy I just paid him off . . . there were other, less expensive, ways of dealing with the problem."

Tristan's heart dropped, what his father had done was bad enough, paying his son's lover handsomely to break it off and move far away. He couldn't risk getting involved with someone else, he feared the 'other methods' his father spoke so casually of might break him completely. He decided that, no matter how lonely he got, he would avoid the blacksmith. I'm sorry Gabriel, he thought mournfully, I can't risk you getting hurt.

Both men turned when they heard a startled gasp to see Marcus standing in the doorway with his hand over his mouth. "Thanks again, Father.", Tristan spit out before disappearing up the stairs, leaving the elder Gallavan to sort out the mess.

A week had passed since Tristan slipped out of Gabriel's arms . . . and apparently out of his life. The smith idly wondered if an apology would be enough, guess I really upset him, he decided sadly, I am so stupid. He put the finishing touches on the gift he had made before packing it in a crate with a short note. Hope this does the trick.

"Master Tristan,", came a muffled voice through the door, "a delivery arrived for you."

Wonder what it could be, he thought idly, desperate for anything to break his self-imposed exile. He thundered down the back stairs to the service entrance, stopping short when he spied the large wooden crate. Tristan quickly pried off the lid and lifted the folded note off the bed of straw, slipping it into his pocket before carefully reaching into the box and lifting the sculpture contained within.

He raced back up the stairs with his treasure in his arms, depositing it carefully on a low table before locking his door securely. Only then did he dare to pull out the note and open it. Please forgive me, it read, I'll be waiting for you. He knelt to examine the sculpture more closely. The piece stood about three feet high, a spreading oak by a swift running stream. What captivated Tristan though, was the lounging figure, unmistakably the smith himself, leaning against the trunk, one arm extended as if in welcome, a picnic lunch spread out beside him.

So beautiful, he mused, just like the man who made it. Tristan shut his eyes and pictured the smith's warm, soft smile. A secluded picnic with Gabriel, miles away from anyone . . . now that would be heaven, it's been far too long since I've felt a lover's touch, he concluded as he lay down on his bed and loosened his clothes, slipping a hand inside his shirt to pinch and roll one nipple. He felt his arousal stir as he shut his eyes and conjured a dream Gabriel bending to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. I wonder what he tastes like?

Tristan had to bite his lip to keep from groaning out loud when his hand finally slipped inside his clothes to grasp his heated length, beginning a slow stroke as he pictured the muscular smith, hair unbound, kneeling between his legs and taking him into his mouth.

He licked and sucked his own fingers frantically, reaching between his legs to slide one inside his tight pucker, nearly coming at the thought of Gabriel doing the same thing while watching him with eyes like storm clouds.

The redhead slowed his motions, panting harshly as he regained control before adding a second finger and spreading them wide. He rubbed his thumb under the head at the end of each stroke, dipping into the slit to smear the sticky precum across the tip. He keened when his fingers found his prostate before coming undone completely at the thought of Gabriel sliding inside him for the first time. Tristan shuddered in the aftermath of his orgasm, if only it could be like that, he thought as his eyes slid shut and he escaped into dreams.

He resisted for a week. Seven days of staring wistfully at the sculpture next to his bed while he attempted to shove all thoughts of the smith from his mind . . . but to no avail. Finally Tristan could stand it no longer. He rose early, saddled his horse, and headed off in search of Gabriel.

This is the last time, the smith told himself, it's been a week . . . if he doesn't come today he's not going to. He carefully unpacked the basket, laying the food out temptingly on the blanket beside him before leaning against the trunk of the tree and stretching his legs out to wait.

Tristan tied his horse to a tree, watching Gabriel from the shadows for a time before stepping into view. "You came.", the smith exclaimed in delight, face lighting with a breathtaking grin even as he extended a hand in invitation.

It looks just like the sculpture, Tristan thought dazedly as he moved slowly towards the tree.

"Come, sit next to me.", the smith whispered huskily, taking Tristan's hand and guiding him down to the ground. "I take it you accept my apology?"

"You have nothing to apologize for. . .", the redhead began sincerely, only to be cut off.

"Yes, I do.", Gabriel insisted, "You're in love with someone else . . . and I was unforgivably forward. I just hope we can still be friends."

"About Danny," Tristan began tentatively.

"You don't have to explain anything to me.", Gabriel hastened to assure him, "It's really none of my business."

"Yes, I do.", came the solemn reply. "You need to know what happened. My father found out about us . . . he offered Danny money to disappear. I guess he didn't really love me after all," Tristan continued bitterly, "because he was only too happy to take the offer."

"He was a fool." Gabriel husked as he easily pulled the smaller man into his lap, wrapping him in strong arms, "No amount of money could compare to this." He ran a comforting hand up and down the redhead's spine, loving the feeling of the warm muscular body in his arms, content to just slow time and stay like that.

He nuzzled soft red locks before finally giving in to temptation and capturing Tristan's lips in a soft kiss. "Mmmmm, you taste good.", he sighed when they finally broke apart.

"This is . . . we can't . . . I can't do this.", Tristan finally stammered, "My father threatened he'd do something even worse if he caught me again."

"I'm not afraid of your father.", Gabriel murmured as he leaned in for another kiss.

"But he's sure to find out.", the redhead insisted, "I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you because of me."

"We'll worry about that when the time comes, right now all I can think of is you.", came the serious reply. Tristan surrendered his reservations at the words, and flung his arms around broad shoulders, melting against the larger man as Gabriel began a series of increasingly heated open-mouthed kisses.

The smith worked at the tie at Tristan's throat, finally freeing it to push his shirt open, loving the feel of satiny alabaster skin as a calloused hand slid over the lean hard planes of his chest.

Tristan shifted to straddle the smith, wrapping long legs around his lean waist while long fingered hands danced over Gabriel's chest, exploring impressive musculature born of long hours at the forge.

Unable to stand the teasing closeness any longer, Gabriel pulled his new lover tight against his chest, uttering a broken groan when their arousals ground together. He licked his way into redhead's mouth, tongue tickling and taunting the other to play as they rocked against each other. Tristan thought he was going to explode as he reached down and freed the smith's impressive erection, wrapping his hand around it firmly and giving it a hard stroke.

"Together.", Gabriel murmured, grasping both of their erections in a large hand, pressing and rolling the heated flesh together as he stroked.

"Oh God, so good.", Tristan managed as he came, seed washing over Gabriel's hand. The sight of the redhead shuddering in orgasm completely overwhelmed the smith, and he came with a strangled shout of his lover's name.

Tristan gasped at the possessive look in the smith's eyes as he was swept into a long, slow, sloppy kiss. When they finally broke apart for air, Gabriel easily pulled Tristan into his arms, arranging him to lay between his spread legs, head pillowed on his chest. He stroked surprisingly gentle fingers through sweaty auburn tresses, wrapping his other arm firmly around the redhead's shoulders to hold him in place as he fed him bits of bread and cheese.

After hours of tender touches and soft slow kisses, the sun finally dipped low in the sky.

Tristan sat up and complained bitterly, "I need to get back, they'll look for me if I'm not at supper."

"Fine." Gabriel said shortly, before standing up and heading into the woods. He lifted the front hoof of Tristan's mount and, pulling a tool from his pouch, wrenched off the shoe. He swiftly untied the reins and shooed the animal toward the estate before heading back into the clearing with a smirk. "Let's go home. They'll think your horse threw you, they'll not check the forge. I refuse to let you go now that I've got you, your father be damned."

Tristan stared at the smith in shock. Now he'd never make it home in time for dinner. He looked down at his clothes, realizing that his shirt was stained with come and his chest covered with bite marks. "Gabriel," he began tentatively, "you have no idea how tempting that sounds . . ."

"I'm not asking you Tristan.", the smith cut in huskily, "I've always been selfish, done as I wished . . . it's who I am and I won't apologize for it. You are what I've been looking for all these years . . . even if I didn't realize it until now. Now . . . let's go home, hmmmm?"