Disclaimer: Anything related to Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.
Summary: Boy meets boy. It’s summer of 1951 and Damon and Grant encounter each other for the first time.
Warnings: OMG! This one is fairly Gen as well.
Author’s notes: Winyan is the Lakhota word for woman.
Seasons In The Sun
The summer sun was high and beating down on the young Lakhota as he walked slowly along the path behind a scraggly looking red cow, swinging a long thin stick to keep her moving. He was six miles out on the plains, six miles from where he needed to get the cow before supper that night. The thunderstorm the night before had washed out part of the cattle pen fence and the red cow was the last one to be rounded up. He stopped a moment, shaded his eyes and looked up at the sun, he was alright on time as long as the beast co operated.
Grant Rainwalker was just about to start his last year in high school and was enjoying his summer before he had to make some decisions, well before his mother made decisions about his future... husband.
He watched a red tailed hawk gliding on the drafts above him and envied the bird for a moment, how he longed to have that freedom, but he was the eldest child of the Medicine Woman and a winkte. Freedom was something that he'd lost at birth.
Swinging the stick through the weeds, watching as he knocked seed tops and flowers to the ground, he followed along behind the cow until they came to a ditch that had been washed out the night before in the heavy rains. The ornery cow planted her hooves and flat refused to cross.
Damon Wolffe sat astride his motorcycle. He had no earthly idea why the Corps had sent him out here to this godforsaken place. It was flat and there was nothing around but miles and miles of plains with wild waving grasses. One of the other soldiers had informed him of this place; the man had said it was a good, quiet field to blow off steam. Damon did that by riding his cycle.
Once he had realized he was going to be staying for longer than a few days he had paid to have his machine sent out. It was really too wet to be out in this mess of country but the urge to go riding had taken hold. He could smell the rain on the air as he sped down Base Road 1. He stopped just before a closed bridge sign and stared out over the horizon, looking up as a hawk screamed out a warning.
The sound of a motor of some sort roared through the silence, startling both man and beast. With a loud, frightened bellow, the cow spun on her heels and barrelled at the young man, determined to break for freedom. Grant dove to the dirt just as the cow pushed past him, rolling and coming back up to his knees in time to watch the upraised tail of the running beast get smaller in the distance.
"I hate that cow! I hate damn people that won't stay away from where they aren't welcomed!" He yelled as he got to his feet and stood glaring after the cow and then turned to look at the motorcycle and the rider who was laughing his fool head off. "Too bad scalping is a man's pleasure," he grumbled and started off at an easy lope that quickly covered the uneven ground.
Damon watched the small person out in the field take off after the cow and laughed again. He kick started the cycle and pulled a U-turn to get a better look at the entertainment. He wondered if this was one of the Indians the other soldiers had warned him about. They had spun tales of spooky rituals, pagan ideals, and scalping to the point that Damon had laughed as the stories got longer and more silly.
All of the red men he had encountered so far had been interesting enough. They never said much to the white man just made certain they were always on the other side of the street from him. He tooled slowly down the road watching the cow and it's... handler. Damon squinted and tried to make out if it was a girl or a man. It was hard to tell at this distance and the long braids hanging down the other person's back didn't mean a thing to him. He'd seen both sexes wearing them when he was out and about in town.
Grant slowed to a walk as he realized the cow was headed for a little stand of cottonwood trees just ahead, he cursed the fact he didn't have a rope with him to tie around it's horns to lead it home. He could hear the motorcycle on the road and glanced at the rider out of the corner of his eye. Great...a white man, that was all he needed. He hurried his step, wanting to get to the cow and get her headed back again without any trouble. He didn't recognize the bike or the rider as one of the local antagonists, but that didn't mean he was safe. He was nearly upon the cow, when it spun around and trampled right over the top of him to avoid being caught, Grant lay there in the dust, making sure nothing was broken before he sat up and threw a rock after the critter. "I really hate that cow."
Damon watched the person trail after the wayward heifer as it walked farther back the other direction. He imagined it wasn't much fun to be out doing this but it was some entertainment for himself as he watched the cow change directions. Damon laughed again and then gasped as the small person was trampled. He kicked up the stand and hopped off the cycle. "You okay down there?" He stood at the edge of the ravine and looked down at the Indian.
Grant froze at the sound of the man's voice, he nodded that he was alright and began to stand up. "I'm fine," he called out, hoping the other man would just go away and leave him alone. He started to take off walking after the cow and went back down to the dirt when he found his ankle wasn't going to hold his weight, he must have sprung it trying to get out of the way of the cow. He sat there on the ground, huffing his breath out in frustration, he didn't know how long it would take for his mother to decide to send out someone to look for him and once she did, how long it would take for them to find where he was. He really wasn't looking forward to dealing with the woman either.
Damon watched the Indian stand up only to tumble right back down. "Oh yeah, grace." He shouted back at the other man and started down the slope to where the other man was. "Yeah, that looked real fine to me; you landing, sprawled on your ass in the dirt and mud." He raised his arms for balance as he began to slide some in the mud. "Just hold on a minute and I'll help you out."
Grant chewed his lip and watched the blond man approaching him with suspicion. He'd been told that he should avoid white men, that none of them were any good and would only lead him to ruin. "You don't have to help me," he said as the man came to a sliding stop about fifteen feet from him. From where he sat he could tell the man was a little older than he was and ruggedly handsome. Grant's mouth went dry and he licked his lips nervously as he watched him.
Damon walked slowly to the other man. He had been told to leave the Indians to themselves and no harm would come to him but he couldn't just leave the other person there in the dirt especially since he was injured. "Nonsense. You're hurt and need help." Damon held up both his hands to show he wasn't armed and approached the other person. He still couldn't tell if the person was male or female. The voice was soft and as he stared at the Indian he cocked his head. "How'd you get out here? I know the Reservation is miles away and you are getting close to the base lines."
Grant swallowed and cut his eyes back along the horizon before he spoke. "The thunderstorm washed out a fence and I was trying to get her back home. And I walked out here," he replied. He didn't want to look at the blond, he knew if he did, he'd stare and that was rude and just asking for trouble. He was quiet for a few minutes, trying to think of how to best handle the situation. "You don't have to worry, someone will come looking for me later on, if you have some place you need to go," he said, but honestly, he wanted the attractive man to stay. He'd not felt this way about a man before even though his mother had told him he would.
Damon nearly gasped as the dark eyes met his then looked away. The Indian sounded male but he was so small and petite. Damon eyed the downed form appreciating the beadwork on the clothing and just the dark good looks of the other man. He had to be careful around the other Marines but no one was watching now. He slowly came closer still holding his hands out as if the other would run away at his touch. "I'll help you. I can't leave you in the mud. That cow will come back and trample you... again" He looked around and pointed just over the downed man's shoulder. "Look, there's the cow. I have some rope on my bike. Do you want it?"
Grant twisted around to see where the other man was pointing and glared at the cow. "I hate that cow. If I could borrow your rope, I'd appreciate it and make sure you got it right back," he said as he looked back to the other man. He hadn't realized the other man was so close, but Grant could smell the heat and scent of clean sweat coming off of him. He wanted to bury his face in the crook of the man's neck and sniff.
Damon laughed out loud as he got closer to the other man. Then he realized it wasn't a man but a young boy. He smiled at the Indian. "You just stay there and I'll get the rope then we can take you home." He turned and loped back up the incline, digging in with his boots and hands to gain purchase. He wiped his hand in the grass at the top of the bank and got the rope from his saddlebags. He slid back down the ravine and stopped in front of the boy again and held out the rope. "Here you go. Think you can rope it, if I help you stand?"
Grant shook his head, he'd never roped an animal in his life, he'd only followed along behind with a stick or led one on a rope if it was calm enough to let him approach. "No, I have to get close to her," he shrugged as he struggled to his feet once more. Taking the rope from the white man, he gave him a shy smile and started to limp towards where the cow was calmly grazing and flicking at flies with her tail.
Murmuring quietly in his native tongue he made his way step by painful step to the beast, willing her to stay quiet and let him tie the rope around her horns. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the blond circling around to flank her, frantically, he shook his head for the man to move back out of the way. The cow was smarter than she looked and didn't trust people.
"Please don't," he called out, willing the man to just stop. Of course, he didn't and the cow took off once more. Grant closed his eyes and bit the remark he was about to make back as he willed his frustration down and sighed.
Damon watched the cow run off and sighed. "How in the hell can you be an Indian and not know how to rope a cow? Give me that thing." It had been a while since Damon had roped any cattle but growing up on his parent's farm had let him be around milk cows all his life and what boy in their right mind didn't want to tie things up. He snatched the rope from the boy's hands and fashioned a lasso. He waited for the cow to stop and then moved stealthily towards it. He stopped and let the red cow began to graze for a moment. He raised the rope and began to swing it round his head, waiting for the right moment to strike as he crept forward once more when the cow dipped it's head again.
Grant glared at the handsome stranger, he'd not been raised to do man's work and roping was man's work, but he wasn't about to tell him that. He watched as the blond stalked the cow and then neatly roped it. Well at least that was done, now he just had to get her home to his Uncle's.
"Thank you," he said as he made his way to where the man was holding the rope and cow. "Where would you like me to bring your rope to?" He reached out to take the rope from the man, quickly removing the other end from the cow's neck and tying her horns the way he'd been shown all his life. He waited for an answer, glancing back to the sky as he did. He'd never make it home before dark, but he needed to start soon.
Damon looked up as the boy did and shook his head. "You gonna walk all the way back? How far out are you?" He looked back at his cycle and then to the young man again. "You'll never make it by dark. Can I take you somewhere and you can get help? You shouldn't be on that ankle too much longer." He itched to scoop the little man up and look at his leg to see if he could heal it but knew that wouldn't go over well with the Indians or his superiors.
Grant was sorely tempted to accept a ride back to his mother's, but he knew what he'd be in for if he came back without the cow. He shook his head. "Thank you, but if I'm gone too long, someone will come to look. I can't leave the cow," he said with a shy smile as he coiled the rope in his hand. "Where do I bring your rope?"
"I am stationed up at the base for now. Captain Damon Wolffe." Damon answered him and held out his hand to the boy. "Are you certain you want me to leave you out here?"
Grant took Captain Wolffe's hand in his and shook it. "I'm Grant Rainwalker," he replied as he looked back at the cow who was currently the bane of his existence. "I think I'm about seven miles from home. I've never really walked out this way, we've always been told to stay away from the Whi....I mean the military base." His face flushed with the realization of what he'd almost said, he didn't want to insult his saviour. "All the other cattle were found in the opposite direction, I don't know why she came this way." He didn't add that he was now glad she had. Surely someone would come looking before long.
Damon nodded and slowly let the boy's hand slip from his. He nodded knowing exactly what the Indian had been told; he'd gotten the same lecture to stay away from the Redman. He looked up once more at the skies. "Well, I don't know what to tell you, boy. I can either help you back or you can keep my rope. It's up to you."
Grant was quiet for a moment, and then he heard something in the distance. Turning his head and squinting, he could make out two riders on horseback coming his way. His cousins. The young Lakhota threw his head back and gave a shout to let them know where he was. As he watched the riders turn towards him, he looked at Captain Wolffe. "Thank you for your help. Those are my cousins coming over there," he said with a motion of his hand. He took a few painful steps from the white man and smiled once more. "Good bye Captain Wolffe." He untied the rope and handed the coils to the man.
In only a few moments, his cousins were there, older than he was, they had generally treated him in contempt for being different. "Stupid winyan," one barked at him and began to herd the cow back. His other cousin spun his horse around to glare down at Grant and began a rapid fire dressing down in their native tongue; calling Grant all sorts of things. He stilled his horse for a moment to allow Grant close enough to mount behind him. As the young man reached up to catch his cousin's arm, he found a booted foot in his chest instead and was kicked to the dirt. Laughing, his cousin whirled about once more and told him he could walk home like the woman he was before he put his heels to his horse and took off after the other rider.
Damon nodded and began to walk away from the young Indian when he heard the harsh voice of another insulting the young boy. He turned around to watch as another voice began to dress down Grant. He knew one when he heard it even though he couldn't understand it. He watched as the man on the horse herded the cow away as the second one made to pick up Grant. Frowning he shook his head as the older boy planted a foot on Grant, shoved him to the ground and rode away, laughing.
He walked back to the downed form and held out his hand again. "Assholes. Want a ride now, Mr. Rainwalker?"
Grant's face was flaming, he had been shamed in front of another person. He looked at the offered hand and shook his head. "I think I'll sit here for a moment. My cousins don't think I do a very good job tending cattle," he said with a rueful laugh. He knew he couldn't go home too soon, he'd have to wait awhile and let his cousins tell everyone how he'd messed up something so simple. "Please Captain, I'm just Grant."
He sat there for a moment and then crossed his legs, slipping the moccasin off of his injured foot so he could take a good look at it. Surely he'd be able to find some of the plants Grandmother had told him about to make the injury less painful.
Damon knelt down on his haunches and held out his hand again. "Want to let me look at that? I know a little first aid and I have a kit in my saddlebags." He smirked. "I'm Damon, then. Don't know why but it seems to me you could use a little help. You need a keeper."
Words his own mother had said many times, Grant nodded in agreement. "You are right Damon. I do need a keeper, according to my mother," he laughed. He wanted so badly to get to know this man. He'd known he was supposed to marry a man, but so far he'd never felt any interest, but something about the other man's blue eyes made him want to get to know him better. He felt the heat in his face as he blushed. "I have to wait for awhile to go home...they'll want the honour of telling everyone what happened."
He looked at the blond out of the corner of his eye and smiled. He wasn't like any of the others that had come onto the reservation asking questions or demanding things of his people. "You're one of the Marines?" he asked, hoping to engage the man in conversation.
Damon nodded and stood. "Hold that thought and I'll be right back." Once more he scrambled up the embankment and grabbed not only the first aid kit but a flashlight and his canteen as well. Scrambling down the hill he sank to his bottom next to the boy. "Well, at least she'll find a good woman for you one day." He laid the kit on the ground and opened the canteen taking a long swallow from the cool wet water and held it out to Grant. "Yes, one of them. Today was my lucky day, got to ride my cycle and rescue an Indian boy from an angry cow." He grinned. "Now let me see that foot."
Not even thinking, Grant replied with a laugh. "She has my husband picked out already."
He took the canteen and sipped slowly, taking enough to wet his mouth and slack his thirst a little, but not enough to take away from the other man. "Where do you come from then?" he asked as he held his foot up when Damon motioned with one hand.
Damon stared at him... her. "I'm sorry I thought you were a boy. I didn't mean no offense, ma'am." He held the little foot gently and pressed lightly on the purpling skin. "Where does it hurt worst?" He dug in his kit and pulled out a bruise salve. It was a weak one but would ease the pain and discomfort without healing the girl too much to be noticeable. "I am originally from West Virginia."
Grant bit his lip and debated on whether or not to correct the Marine, eventually he was going to have to use the trees for nature after all. He closed his eyes and said a brief prayer before he opened his mouth. "I am," he said quietly and continued on as if he'd said nothing more than the weather was nice. "My ankle hurts the most on the inside...here." He bent forward and touched the sorest spot.
"Is that where you learned to rope cows?" he asked, hoping he could keep the man talking and not thinking.
Damon grunted and poured out some of the salve on the delicate ankle. He rubbed the pale blue salve in gently and grinned. "Some but mostly I like to tie things up." He looked up and met the dark eyes and then looked away. "Sorry, ma'am." He cleared his throat and continued to rub the soft skin. "There. How's that?"
Grant shrugged, he'd explained, it wasn't his fault if the white man was dense. "It feels better. What did you use?" he asked as he carefully moved his foot while keeping his heel in the other man's hand. "What's it like where you are from?"
Damon ran his fingers along the little foot and sighed. "Just a little salve our medic whips up." He said vaguely. He looked at the girl and studied her for a moment. "It's nice, a mountainous area." He cocked his head. "Why were you out here herding cattle... alone? Don't the winyan usually stay at camp, except for the ones that whore themselves in town?" He cocked his head at Grant. "Besides what kind of name is Grant for a woman anyway?"
Damon wasn't stupid by any measures and he could feel something was different about this Indian. He couldn't put his finger on it but he would eventually figure it out.
Grant looked down at the dirt and pulled his foot away from the other man, pulling his moccasin back on as he did so. "I’maboynotagirl," he muttered as he got to his feet.
Damon nodded. "Is that a new Indian word?" He looked up at the small man and smirked. He knew exactly what the boy had said, the features had thrown him for a loop though. "Does that mean you are homosexual or something? Is that why they were picking on you?" He stood and held out a hand. "The offer for a ride is still up if you want it."
Grant looked sideways at him and thought for a moment. "I'm different, that's why they were picking on me," he shrugged. "I still have to wait before I can go home, but a ride would be nice. Thank you."
Looking at the other man, he limped back to the stand of cottonwood trees and sat down in the shade to let the time pass. "My cousins think I can't do anything right," he muttered angrily as he pulled up a handful of the prairie grass and began to weave a tiny basket just to give his fingers something to do.
Damon followed Grant over to the trees. "Well, what do you know, I am different too. I think it makes the world a more interesting place." He didn't know why he was following the Indian around but he wanted to keep talking to the other man. He wanted to see that shy smile once more. "I don't have to take you home right away. I was going to head out to the park and ride for a while. You are more than welcome to come with."
Grant looked at the man… he was different too? "How are you different?" he asked shyly as he tilted his head up and looked at the bigger man. Surely he didn't mean he liked men, did he? His fingers finished the tiny little basket and he set it to one side and drew his knees up under his chin. "I've never been on one of those." He nodded towards the bike that was parked a ways off and then laid his head down, resting his cheek on one knee.
Damon sank to the ground beside Grant. "Well, I don't know how to explain it. But I've been different since I was very young. We are all different in our own way." He couldn't come right out and say he was a wizard to the Indian. Did they even believe in things like that? He smirked. "It's kinda like magic, don't you think? Everyone has some of their own."
The blue eyed man looked towards his bike. "Can you hug someone?" He asked, meeting the dark eyes of the boy. "It's not hard to ride, you just follow direction and lean with the other person. Want to go?"
His tanned face lit up with a smile. "Some people's magic is stronger than others," he laughed. He was proud of the fact his cousins couldn't do anything at all like he could. "And some have no magic at all."
He turned and smiled again at Damon. "I'd like a ride, thank you, and yes I do know how to hug someone."
"Exactly. Different." Damon grinned and stood. He held out a hand to Grant. "Excellent, then let's go. There won't be much to see as it's getting dark but the ride will be great and cool."
Taking the older man's hand, Grant got to his feet and followed along beside the other man, only realizing as they were nearly to the bike that his hand was still clasped in the Marine's. Smiling shyly, he gave the large, strong fingers a gentle squeeze out of happiness. He knew he shouldn't, but he was thinking of maybe being with this white man instead of the man his mother had picked as his husband.
Damon grinned and pulled Grant right up to the bike. He held out a helmet. "It might be a bit big but you need to wear it while riding.” He pulled it down on the Indian's head and adjusted the strap. He leaned over the bike and started it up. "Now swing your leg over and sit on the back part of the seat." He held down the brake and waited for Grant to climb up. "Put your feet on the pegs," he pointed out the small rods, "And watch out for the pipes. Keep your legs close together."
Grant did as he was told and waited with nervous excitement as he put his hands lightly on the other man's shoulders, not quite sure what to do with them. He was pressed closely to the Marine and the heat his body radiated was hitting the young Lakhota in his core. The vibrations from the machine was rattling his teeth and he couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up out of him. This was the most fun he'd had in a long time and no one was there to tell him it wasn't how he should behave. This strange white man would be in his dreams and he was looking forward to sleeping that night.
Damon grabbed the handlebars, mounted the bike and revved the engine. He grinned as Grant laughed and he turned his head to talk loudly to the other man. "Put your arms around my waist as if you were hugging me and lean into me. Lean with me as we turn but not too much and don't ever take your feet off the pegs, alright. Squeeze me if you understand." He knocked on the helmet and waited for Grant's answer.
Grant wrapped his arms around the man's waist and gave him a squeeze. As the bike moved forward, he gasped in shock and did what came naturally to him; he pressed even closer and pressed his cheek against the man's back. He kept his eyes opened though and grinned as he watched the landscape fly by as Damon revved the motor and they sped down the base road. He was thrilled beyond words by what was happening and he never wanted it to stop. It felt so natural to be where he was and for once he wasn't nervous about being that close to another man. Damon smiled when Grant wrapped his arms around his waist. He grinned even wider as the boy gasped when they took off like a shot. He knew what it was like to ride for the first time. The speed and vibrations took your breath away and you never felt as free again until you were back on the machine. He raced up the road and out of the Military Instillation and headed for Bear Butte State Park. He pulled up just inside the park's main gates and stopped the bike, killing the engine. The silence filled the air. "Well, what do you think? Did you enjoy yourself?" He grinned at the boy.
Grant flung his arms around the older man in a big hug. "Thank you, thank you, I've never been on anything like that before. I'll remember it forever!" he babbled excitedly and laughing. His dark chocolate eyes were sparkling with laughter and happiness. Not many treated him this well at home, most tended to just avoid him because he was different. After a moment, he pulled away shyly and looked down, embarrassed by what he'd done, but the grin still on his face. He was going to bring that cow a treat for running the way she had.
Damon leaned his head back and laughed. "I'm glad you had fun. I love to ride and you make a perfect bitch. Are you certain you haven't ridden before?" He teased the young man gently.
A perfect bitch. Those three words were like ice water thrown in Grant's face. He swallowed his laughter and waited for the next slur. He could handle it, he was called worse by his own family. "I've not ever been on a motorcycle before, thank you for the ride," he said, his manner now subdued and slightly worried.
Damon frowned. "What happened? We were having fun a minute ago." He sighed. "I suppose you want me to take you home now." He climbed back on the cycle. "I didn't mean nothing but it and I am sorry if I offended you." He said as he started the cycle. "You ride like you were born to it and the rider is called a bitch." He explained. He made a quick turn and set out of the park.
Grant squeezed hard on the other man's midsection. "Stop!" he yelled.
Damon stopped and placed his feet on the ground. He waited on the little man to speak again.
"I don't want to go home. I want to stay with you. I just didn't know what you meant, I was afraid it was going... I just didn't know what you meant. I'm sorry," he said as he bit his lower lip. He didn't want his time with the white man to end. This was the closest to freedom that he'd ever felt and he didn't want it to end. He sat on the back of the bike with his arms around the man's waist and waited.
Damon nodded and lifted his arm to check his watch. He had two hours to get back to the base before mess and to check in and start his fire watch duty. He patted the boy's hands. "I'm sorry, little Indian but I have to get back to work soon. It's alright though, we can have another go next week if you like."
Grant nodded and tucked his head back against the man's shoulder and closed his eyes, he wanted to remember the man's scent to have for his dreams. He felt and heard the bike under him and responded to the man's body as it moved between his thighs. Too soon they were near his home and he gave Damon's waist a squeeze so he'd pull over.
Damon pulled off on the shoulder of the road and shut off the bike. He had an idea that the young man shouldn't be seen with the white man. He dismounted and held out a hand to Grant to help him off as well. "Here you go, my Injun." He smiled at the boy and held out his hand. "It was nice to meet you, Grant Rainwalker."
Grant stood on shaky legs and unbuckled the borrowed helmet, putting it on the seat behind Damon. He looked at the man's hand and took it in both of his. "Thank you Captain Wolffe, I can't tell you how much fun I had. Please be careful going back," he gave the large hand a squeeze and turned to start making his way down the dusty road towards his mother's. He didn't look back, but reached up and wiped at a tear as he heard the motorbike start up and the engine noise fade into the distance.