*Hey everyone! I want to apologize because this chapter is gonna be pretty short, even by my standards. I just wanted to post it because I'm busy and I haven't posted for NW in a while.
I just started college, plus I'm trying to finish Boy from the Sea and work on Tenderness. I even have another Bottom Tier chapter I'm working on. I'm so busy! and I never should have started so many threads, but I can promise that BFTS and NW both only have one chapter left.
I'm gonna wait until only Tenderness is open before I even THINK about starting another one. -_-'
Enjoy, all characters are 18+*
When Matteo woke up, it was late afternoon and his stomach was raw and aching for food, and every muscle in his body was sore and stiff and shrieking. He rested in Ahote's arms for a moment, loving the warmth and gentleness of the man who had saved his life. Then he feebly tried to get up, without much success. His muscles were too weak and sore, and Ahote had a firm grasp around him. The walls of the wigwam billowed with rough winds.
Matteo gave Ahote's arm a playful little nip and Ahote got up with a growl and a playful nip of his own. Matteo could feel the stiff prong of Ahote's morning wood in the cleft below his buttocks. Ahote was ready for the morning, but both of them were starving and sore. Ahote leapt up and left the wigwam, explaining very slowly in Nipmuc that he was going to get food. Matteo was trying so hard to learn the new words that his forehead was wrinkled with effort.
Matteo wanted to settle down for a few minutes, but he was sore and the pangs in his stomach couldn't be ignored. Also, he had to use the latrine. The slender boy got up and started to stretch. He moved slowly and jerkily, like an old man. He slipped out into the bitter winds with the cloak wrapped around his shoulders and quickly pissed into the snow. There was a huge driving snowfall, and his bare feet sunk in about eight inches of fresh snow.
After taking care of his bladder, Matteo ran back into the wigwam, shivering. He huddled on the bed in the warm spot that had been made by their bodies. The fire was burned to coals, warming the wigwam to about fifty degrees and adding some light. Matteo huddled under the heavy bearskin covering, stretching his stiff legs under it.
Matteo put a few thick branches into the fire from the little pile of wood outside the wigwam. The flames flared up a little and sent warmth into Matteo's shivering body. The wigwam lit up slightly.
Ahote came in with two wooden bowls in his hand. Succotash, with slices of fatty delicious moose over the top. Ahote smiled warmly and murmured something in Nipmuc. Matteo reached for a bowl. Ahote wrapped them both in the bearskin wrapping and they ate the filling succotash and tender moose with their hands, licking grease up from their fingers.
With careful gestures, and a mixture of English and Nipmuc, Ahote told Matteo that they would be going to a special bathing lodge. A place to get warm and clean. Matteo looked at his smudgy skin ruefully, and nodded eagerly. Ahote wrapped him carefully in the cloak, and helped him put on the pair of oversized moccasins. When Ahote tied the clasp under his chin, he gently kissed Matteo's hollow cheek. Matteo kissed him back, on the lips.
Ahote felt a surge of lust for the slender boy in his bed, but it was time to warm up. Matteo was so stiff and sore from last nights exertions. At this point, the sweat-lodge would be medicinal. Ahote made the kiss gentle and chaste, and led Matteo out into the blowing wind.
---
The sweat lodge was a small room that was underground. It had been dug in the summer, and there was a roof of small logs chinked with mud, and the opening was a flap of deer-hide. It was only visible because of the churned and muddy snow around it and a wisp of warm sweaty smoke that escaped every time the flap opened.
Ahote dragged the half-limping Matteo underground, and they were in the two-room sweat lodge. The first room was merely warm, still separated from the main room by another tent-flap. It was an annex, and the floor was covered with bundles of clothing that had been shed, and tightly woven baskets filled with melting snow.
The two men stripped. Ahote put a possessive, protective hand on Matteo's thin shoulder before entering the steam room. The hot air hit their lungs like liquid lead. The steam room was a tiny circle of mats to sit on, around a deep pit of glowing coals. There were tongs made of wood to reach into the fire to grab a stone and drop it into an earthen jug half-filled with water. When all of the water evaporated, the lowest-ranked man in the sweat room would dump the stones back into the fire and refill the jug from the melted snow in the annex.
Matteo froze a little under the hostile, curious stares of the men in the sweat room. He felt vulnerable, and was glad that Ahote was holding him, claiming him. There were six other men in the sweat room, and they all stared as the two foreign wolves picked their way around the fire pit to an open spot.
The six men stared with open curiosity. Matteo's body was very pale, and turning pink in the moist heat of the steam room. His hair all over, even the tufts under his arms and the patch above his penis and the fuzz on his chest was all that same bright red as the hair on his head. He looked skinny and small, almost like a child in comparison to them.
It was stiflingly warm, but Ahote could feel Matteo trembling next to him. Ahote put his arm around the boy's frail shoulders, and Matteo gratefully leaned into him, closing his eyes so he could no longer see the stares of the men.
The stifling heat was soothing, and soon Matteo was dozing. All of his limbs felt warm and relaxed. His breathing was shallow and soft. Sweat dripped slowly down his slender white body.
When Matteo was flushed and panting, Ahote and he got up and left the steam room. They plunged into the snow, naked and gasping. They ran naked back to the wigwam and dried off inside.
---
Matteo felt more then clean, he felt invigorated, limber, whole. The steam bath had been a rough stimulation of his sore body, but now it felt so incredible. He lay on the bed, feeling simultaneously exhausted and invigorated by the experience.
Ahote built up the fire with a few sticks and then he slid into the bed. Matteo moaned softly with excitement when Ahote took the young man into his arms.
Ahote was slower now, more careful. Matteo tilted his head back in a soft moan when the other man gently flicked his tongue against his tiny pink nipple. Matteo let his eyes fall shut and he buried his hands in the damp thick silk of Ahote's long hair. Matteo guided his lover, and Ahote let himself be guided. He lapped and sucked and gnawed on those tender little nipples as Matteo moaned and writhed.
