Chapter 5
Revelations
Morning came to soon. Magnus felt like he could sleep for a week. He had gone to bed early, leaving Francois and Klaus hurling insults at each other while they argued over travel plans. Sleeping between the two men was something else. If he turned facing Francois, Klaus spooned his back and Francois held Magnus' arm over his chest. If he turned facing Klaus the positions were reversed. If he laid on his back, both Francois and Klaus cuddled his sides. But right now, both men were not here, and Magnus had the bed all to himself. Pulling the comforter close around him, he went back to sleep. However, Magnus' peaceful morning was short-lived when the door flew open, and his two companions burst into the room.
“My dear Magnus, you need to get up. Your carriage is waiting, and we need to get going,” Francois said cheerfully, tapping Magnus on the shoulder.
Magnus sat up to see Francois smiling down at him, holding out a cup of black tea with cream and sugar. “Thank you,” Magnus said with a small smile. Francois leaned down and kissed Magnus on the cheek, then went to finish his packing. Magnus looked over the rim of his cup and saw Klaus at the wardrobe, no doubt choosing an outfit for him.
Klaus picked out black pants, a pale blue, long-sleeved shirt with ruffled cuffs, and a dark blue coat. He also chose cream-colored stockings and black leather shoes. “I'll help you get dressed,” he smiled, walking toward the bed.
Magnus had no idea how these two men could be so energetic and cheerful at seven-thirty in the morning. Setting his cup on the bedside table, Magnus stood and pulled his thigh-length nightshirt over his head. Instantly, he was aware of both Klaus and Francois admiring his naked body with lust-filled eyes. “My pants please, Klaus,” he said, his ears and cheeks glowing red.
It didn't long and Klaus had Magnus dressed. “You look stunning, Magnus,” Klaus beamed at his handiwork. “Just one thing more to finish.” Klaus smoothed down the collar on Magnus' shirt, then opened the shirt to expose his neck and collar bones. Next, Klaus fastened a dark blue, velvet choker around Magnus’s neck. “Done,” Klaus declared, feeling quite pleased. Klaus had also combed Magnus’s hair, pulling the top half into a ponytail.
Magnus went to the mirror in the washroom to check out his new look. Francois followed right behind. “You're so fucking beautiful, Magnus,” Francois whispered into his ear. He slipped his left arm around Magnus' waist and held him close. His right hand came up to twirl a lock of Magnus' shiny dark hair around his finger - “Stay close to me. I will protect you from any wolves that try to prey on you.” Francois was sure his charm would keep Magnus close to him.
“Oh...I, uh...” Magnus stammered, just as Klaus reached past Francois to grab Magnus's hand and yank him out of the washroom.
“Let's go, Magnus. The carriage is packed and ready,” Klaus said abruptly, pulling a stumbling Magnus along as he went out the door...the long feather in Klaus' his hat waving as if saying 'goodbye'. Klaus was determined to keep Magnus by his side and away from Francois.
Clearly pissed off, Francois growled and stood up straight, watching Magnus being dragged out the door. He did a quick check of his utility belt strapped over his tan pants. A pistol hung at each hip and all the necessary loads were tucked securely in the belt. He fastened the large, single button of his dark brown coat, and slung the leather case holding his musket over his shoulder. He was prepared if they ran into bandits on the road. Lastly, he plopped his black tricorn hat on his head and left. The sound of his black boots echoed as he stomped down the staircase.
The carriage was quite elegant, with gold painted filigree designs on the sides and doors, and red velvet curtains for the windows. Even the wheels were painted. Polished brass oil lamps hung at each front corner. The hired driver... named Joseph... was wearing a black suit, white gloves, and top hat and sat on the front seat patiently waiting. The whole thing screamed money, and was no doubt chosen to dispel any thoughts of them being vagrants...especially after their embarrassing appearance at the bath. After some haggling, Klaus and Francois agreed to split the cost of the carriage. Klaus had sold his horse for a nice profit- but left that purse with the front desk to divide among the maids who cleaned their room, and the bath attendants. It was a very generous tip.
Magnus waited in the carriage while they made a few stops on their way out of town. The first stop was the money exchange office where Klaus and Francois cashed in banknotes for gold and silver coins. The next stop was the general store where Francois picked out apples and cinnamon buns. Klaus picked two wedges of cheese, two small loaves of bread, and three wool blankets. Of course, they did not forget the most important items on their list-Booze. Francois picked three bottles of the shop owner's finest whiskey. Since Klaus' favorite brand was not available, he chose 3 bottles of the most expensive light rum that was in stock. They added two canteens to the items on the counter, then watched the shop owner carefully pack their purchases into two large, cloth bags. They each paid the man, grabbed a bag, then went to the carriage. All of this without saying a word or even looking at each other. Right now, the icy aura coming from these two guys could freeze the fires of seven hells.
Klaus tossed one of his blankets, a loaf of bread, and a wedge of cheese up to the driver, then pulled the carriage door open. He paused for a few seconds, his lips pressed into a thin line and his brows scrunched together. “Francois is sitting close to Magnus and feeding him a cinnamon bun? Oh, fuck no!' A gust of wind blew Klaus' coat open, revealing all the inside pockets that held his daggers and knives. He quickly glanced around, making sure no one had noticed, as he jerked his coat closed and buttoned it. Magnus and Francois were busy chatting and smiling and eating cinnamon buns, paying no attention. Klaus jumped inside, slamming the door shut, and sat down across from them with a thump that rocked the carriage.
Startled, Magnus let out a yelp. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at Klaus, then to Francois. The two had locked eyes, glaring at each other. Magnus shivered, 'shit...if looks could kill...'
Magnus cleared his throat, “Um...you know, I'm really thirsty. Do we have any water?” he asked, hoping he sounded cheerful enough to hide the growing anxiety he felt. He wasn't stupid. He knew these two guys were competing for his attention. He should have been flattered. Instead, it made him feel uneasy. He didn't want to be the cause of them trying to kill each other, and he knew they were capable of it.
At once, Klaus turned to Magnus. His eyes softened as he gently said, “We only have one more stop to make, then we'll get water.”
Francois stuck his head out of the carriage window and called to Joseph to drive on. Next stop, the apothecary.
As soon as they were done with their purchases at the apothecary shop, Joseph trotted the horses down the street to the community well at the edge of town. With their canteens in hand, Francois and Klaus jumped down out of the carriage - they never bothered with the step stool. Francois went ahead to stand in line as there were several people ahead of him, already waiting at the well. Klaus paused at the door.
“I bought something special for you, Magnus. You'll find it in the bag.” He grinned and winked, then closed the door and walked off.
Curious, Magnus picked up the large, muslin bag off the floor, ready to rummage through it. He opened the bag and immediately his eyes shot open wide. Right there, on top of everything else, was four bottles of mineral oil. He thought of how Klaus grinned and winked and felt his cheeks flush. He bit his bottom lip as he recalled being very persistent the other night. Even though at first he didn't remember much, it was all coming back to him now. Having two handsome men that wanted him was a new experience for him. He was insatiable. He couldn't get enough. Magnus giggled, thinking how very naughty he had been. He wore Klaus and Francois out. He sighed and continued to dig in the bag. There was a roll of bandages, a jar of lavender scented cream, a bar of soap, headache powders tied in paper wrappers...then, he found it. Near the bottom, next to a bottle of men's cologne, - for Klaus, no doubt - was a leather pouch. Magnus recognized the name stamped into the leather and grinned from ear to ear. Klaus remembered his favorite brand of weed.
When Francois and Klaus returned to the carriage and opened the door, they were immediately greeted with billowing clouds of smoke. Magnus was stretched out on the seat on his side, his left arm resting on the blankets and his hand holding his head. His right hand held his ceramic pipe that he always carried in his travel bag. Klaus and Francois butted shoulders, trying to get in the carriage at the same time.
“Move it, asshole,” Klaus growled and nudged Francois over.
“Fuck off,” Francois growled back. Shoving Klaus out of the way, he jumped in the carriage. Klaus jumped in right behind him.
Seeing Magnus sprawled out on one seat, they both had to sit on the seat across from Magnus.
“Well, at least you two are talking now,” Magnus smiled, his eyelids drooping. The carriage lurched forward and rolled on, down the road, leaving the town behind.
“Are you feeling better, Magnus?” Klaus chuckled, pleased that he had done something nice for Magnus.
“Mm... yes, Klaus. Thank you. This is just what I needed,” Magnus puffed on the pipe, looking quite content.
“Here’s some water, Magnus,” Francois held the canteen to Magnus' lips and waited for him to finish swallowing.
Klaus huffed and rolled his eyes at Francois. “How do you like the carriage, Magnus? Are the cushions soft enough?” Klaus asked. Reaching into one of the bags, he took out a bottle of rum.
“You stupid shit. If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't need soft cushions,” Francois mumbled and took a bottle of whiskey out of his bag.
“Me?! You were rougher than I was, you worthless prick,” Klaus sneered, and took another swig from the bottle.
Magnus laid on his back with his head pillowed on the blankets and sighed. Klaus's little present turned out to be some very potent shit. The pipe dropped to the floor, but luckily it didn’t break. 'They're arguing again. What is it this time?'
“He likes it rough,” Francois said, waving the whiskey bottle, then chugging several swallows.
'
What's rough? The road? Yes, the road is rough.'
“I know what he likes better than you, you bastard, and it's not your filthy dick,” Klaus shouted, and chugged down more rum.
'Hmm...the road is rough...rough and filthy. Okay'
“You're the one that rammed him into next week, you fucking scumbag,” Francois screamed.
' Rammed...'there's a ram on the road? He better watch out. The road is rough... full of filthy scumbags'
Klaus corked the rum bottle and set it down. His eyes burned with rage as he lunged at Francois, grabbing his shirt and twisting it around his fist. “You're the one who hurt Magnus!” Klaus screamed into Francois' face. “You're the one who fucked him three times in a row with your stinking, dirty cock!” Klaus pulled back his free hand and punched Francois right in the nose. Francois reached up and grabbed Klaus by the neck, hollering, “Fuck you, Klaus.”
Hmm...Magnus? Uh...Magnus...that's me. Three rounds? Three rounds in a row? Yeah...that was fun. Hmm...Klaus...harder, Klaus. Wow, what a night. I want to do that again. So noisy...who's yelling?”
All at once Magnus' weed-foggy brain cleared enough for him to realize what was happening. Horrified that they were fighting, he bolted upright. “STOP!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.
Joseph had no idea what was going on inside the carriage. All he heard was Magnus scream, so he jerked the carriage to an abrupt halt, sending all three men crashing to the floor. Stunned, no one moved at first. Then Francois sat up and quickly snatched up his whiskey bottle, before it all spilled on the floor, while his nose dripped blood down the front of his shirt. He sat back on the seat and started looking for the cork.
Klaus stood up, coughed a couple of times and rubbed his neck. He looked down at Magnus, then took a hold of him from under his arms and lifted onto the seat. “Are you alright?” Klaus asked and sat back on the seat.
“I'm fine,” Magnus scowled, obviously annoyed. “But what the fuck is wrong with you two? What are you fighting about?
“Uh, well, you,” Francois said sheepishly, wiping at his nose.
“Me? Why would you fight about me?”
“I thought Klaus hurt you...you know, the other night?”
Klaus nodded, pointing his head toward Francois. “I thought he was too rough with you.”
Magnus burst out laughing. “You two are unbelievable. I'm the one who asked for a second round...then another, and another...well, anyway.” Magnus waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, I could hardly walk the next day, but I did it to myself. Neither of you hurt me, and I'm feeling much better.” He dropped his eyes to give Klaus and Francois a flirty look from under his long lashes. “I did enjoy the other night and wouldn't be adverse to doing it again. Just...you know, maybe not five rounds.”
Surprised, Francois and Klaus looked at Magnus, then back at each other.
“It's a date,” Francois grinned playfully.
“The pleasure will be all mine,” Klaus winked his one eye, grinning.
“And, please, stop the fighting,” Magnus sighed. “This trip won’t be any fun if you two are at each other’s throats all the time.”
While Francois and Klaus smiled pleasantly and nodded their agreement to Magnus, when they nodded to each other there was a cold challenge in their eyes. Just because they had settled the skirmish over Magnus being hurt, did not mean the war was over. Francois was determined to make Klaus leave and have Magnus all to himself. As for Klaus, there was no way he was abandoning Magnus. He had made that promise and was determined to keep it. After all, Klaus knew he loved Magnus, but had no idea what Francois’ intentions were.
Francois leaned out the window and called to Joseph to drive on. Magnus picked up his pipe and pouch of weed, grateful for the lack of tension in the air, and the quieter voices. They talked about the special places they were going, and sights they planned to see, as the carriage rolled on down the road.
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