Meet at the Rise of the Moon

The boy was running lightly over the weathered moor, barely making a sound. Just two more places to go, and then he'd be done with his round. He slowed down. Listening intently, he continued at a crouching walk.

"Pssst! Sean! Sean O'Farrell!"

In a flash, he was over by the person who had hailed him.

"It is tonight, then?" asked the young girl.

"Aye!", said Sean. "Captain's orders: All must be ready at the rising of the moon."

"Ah. The old place by the river?"

"The same."

"I'll tell me brothers." The girl rose to run away, but Sean laid a hand on her shoulders to stop her. She looked enquiringly at him.

"Are you sure both of them are up to it?"

"No, but we all know Gerry would run away to join them anyway, if he wasn't allowed."

Sean sighed. The hot blood of Gerry McFarlane was well known. He himself had felt the heat of the other boy's temper more than once.

"I'll pray for him, Mary. And for Paddy, too."

The girl smiled shyly, squeezed Sean's shoulder and took off.

Sean quickly made contact with the people on the last farm, then headed for the place where he'd be meeting Con.

Barely fifteen minutes later, he was knocking softly on the door to a decrepit outhouse. The creaking door swung open, and Sean found himself in an almost cozy place, with an oil lamp swinging from a beam and plenty of hay to cover the floor. Smiling, he embraced Conor Black, kissing him deeply and tenderly.

"My God, Sean! I swear I don't know how you do it. You've been out running forever, and yet you seem so fresh and lovely."

Sean smiled briefly.

"Does it really matter, my love? By this time tomorrow, we could both be dead."

Both boys fell silent. They had talked about this before, but with the usual bravado of 18-year olds, neither had really believed that this uprising would be anything but a glorious victory, with both of them heroes. Now, however, with the gathering less than an hour away, and the fighting no more than six hours distant, reality hit them hard.

"Oh, Con! I'm afraid!" he cried out, hugging the bigger boy to him fiercely.

"I know, Sean, I know" whispered Conor, gently stroking Sean's blonde hair. As Sean fought to control his tears, Con made soothing noises.

"There! Brave again?" Con held Sean at arm's length, smiling with all the courage he could muster. Sean nodded.

"We'll be fine, you'll see. We're well armed, and the Captain's a great leader of men. And when it's over, we'll get down to Cork, find a ship to take us to America, and then we'll be together forever. Just you wait and see."

The boys hugged tightly again. With his fear under better control, Sean concentrated on enjoying the closeness. It wasn't long before his body gave the customary reaction, with Con responding likewise.

"Did you bring another gun, or is that something different I feel down there?" Con let his hands slide down Sean's back to his plump bottom, kneading the two orbs gently.

"You know what it is", said Sean.

"Aye, I do." Conor raised his hands and started to slide Sean's shirt out of his britches. As the hands touched bare skin, a moan escaped from Sean's lips. Con lifted the shirt, and Sean helped by lifting his arms, letting Con remove the garment altogether. Con carefully put the shirt away, then returned to the body he adored so much.

He let his hands slide up and down Sean's back, making the younger boy (younger by a whole month) moan softly. Conor had hands that were slightly calloused, making his touch - be it never so tender - just a little rough. Those hands were down on Sean's behind again, now moving up to the front. As they slid over his belly, heading for his chest, Sean let out a little whimper.

Con rose to his feet, one hand holding Sean's neck, the other on his back.

"I do love you, Sean. I love you so much!"

Sean tilted his head to one side, pulling Con to him in a fierce kiss. The humping motions he made, told Con it would be quick tonight. It had to be; there was little time. Still holding the kiss, he brought his hands down and to the front, releasing the belt that held up Sean's britches. That belt was a legacy from Sean's grandfather, and the most expensive piece of clothing the boy owned. He had been very proud to wear it, taking it as a sign that he was finally becoming a man.

As Con took in the naked body before him, he didn't doubt that his love was a man now. He might still be thin, but the firm stomach, the strong shoulders and arms, the light sprinkling of hair on his thighs all spoke of a boyhood that was past and a manhood that was beginning. Forcing back a big lump in his throat, Conor compelled himself to focus on the here and now, not on what might happen when morning came. The long, thin rod that almost poked him in the eye, helped. It was very insistent, demanding attention right away.

Con quickly lost his own clothes and sank to his knees, cupping a young pair of balls in his left hand, the right grasping the base of Sean's cock. A few licks of the head, and he moved in to take it all in his warm mouth.

"Aah! Oh, Conor! Oooh!" Sean shuddered. Opening his eyes and looking down, he saw the shaft of his prick appearing, glistening with moisture, then disappearing, coming into sight again... He felt the sweet tension rising in him, telling him an eruption was close.

Con could feel it, too. Even without cupping the balls that were quickly rising up towards the shaft, now almost disappearing, he felt it. Sean's body and its responses were so familiar by now, he knew them better than his own.

"Ohh, hmmmmm! Haaah!" It wasn't loud, and to a stranger it might have sounded like Sean was in deep despair. To Conor, eagerly savoring the taste of his lover's seed, it was the sign to start jerking on his own hard manhood. Four or five quick tugs, and his juices were flying through the air, hitting the wall and the floor, the last drops falling right between Sean's feet.

Urgently, the young men got to their feet, grabbing kisses as they dressed themselves.

Con peeped out of the door. "The moon will be up soon. Let's be off!"

Trembling lightly, Sean nodded. He slung his gun over his shoulder, and waited for Conor to shut the door. By tacit agreement, they walked so close their shoulders and arms were rubbing against each other with each step.

As the river came into view, Con could hear Sean's teeth start chattering. He wanted to say something to soften his lover's fear, but found he couldn't think of anything. He was hardly feeling all that brave himself.

"For...for freedom, Con!" Sean managed to say. Con smiled. Yes, it was good to repeat these words.

"For freedom! Death to every foe and traitor!" He just about managed to put some fire into that. Then, not trusting his voice to hold much longer, he quickly added:

"To the future! To America!"

The boys walked on.

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written by einhard