Authors Note: Just a note for all my Death Note and Harry Potter fan fiction readers, I am not abandoning my other stories! 'To Love a Loathed Enemy' is still my first priority. However, you do not need to have read As Meat Loves salt' to understand and enjoy this fan fiction, so I would truly love it if some you who have read my other stories would read and review this one too. :)

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Nathan's palm was sweaty against Ferris's as they lay together next to the fire. He could feel Ferris's warm breath on his cheek as he slept, his yellow locks clinging to his forehead, golden in the flickering flames, and Nathan felt something inside of himself glow with a fierce, passionate love, making him grip his friends hand all the more tighter - but not so tight as to cause him to stir. Ferris muttered something indistinguishable in his slumber, and frowned, and Nathan bit back the temptation to wrap his arms around the other boy, who was near as delicate as he, and smaller in size. Neither were made for the army, both lacking strength and weight, but here they were both, in their uniforms fouled with dirt and blood, put to bed on the hard earth under the sky.

Nathan was troubled, and thus could not sleep. It was not jealousy, he told himself firmly, of the new man, his black skin and silver eyes a contrast to his but making him no prettier than he, and his relationship with Ferris. Perhaps it was fear, rather, that kept him awake. He is a man to be feared, this Rupert, thought Nathan grimly, thinking back to the hours previous, when the black man had threatened his comrades into giving him some extra meat for his dinner. Ferris had saved him that time, apologizing for him and saying it had been meant as a jest. This new man was fierce and knew too well of his own strength. Ferris ought maybe to have let him to rot on the road side, where he lay near dead and starved, for no good will come of his bullying ways. He kissed Ferris's cheek, ever so gently so as not to disturb him, and nuzzled his face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent and closing his eyes to it. He needn't worry for others looking, for it was late into the night and nearly every man slept. He could hear their unconscious mutterings and cries as they spoke to the dead or the otherwise lost in their dreams, which he was so used too that he thought he would perhaps miss if he ever chose to leave the army.

A gentle shaking of his shoulder woke him, and he opened his eyes to see Ferris, his dirt-worn face lit up a smile so warm that one would think he had never seen death. The sun had barely rose, and the moon still hung in the dawning light, but close to the ground and a dull white against the blue.
“You are usually risen before me, friend,” said Ferris. “Here,” and he handed Nathan a chunk of bread, stiff and dry as it always was, but he tore though it no matter, surprised to find himself so hungry. Once finished, he stifled a yawn with his hand, and Ferris frowned at him. “Did you not sleep well?”
“Nay. Does one ever get a decent sleep in the army?” He had no desire to enlighten his friend of his unsureness about Rupert, for it seemed Ferris had taken a liking to him, and he wanted not to come across as jealous.
“I will fetch us some water,” said Nathan, and on his return he caught sight of Rupert watching Ferris, and he scowled.

They marched that afternoon, but Nathan stayed away from Ferris, not because he did not wish for his company, for he craved it as always, but when he found him in talk with Rupert his desire for his friend vanquished slightly, and he held back, choosing instead to march with Russ. Soon, however, he became bored of Russ's mindless chattering, and longed for Ferris. It had been days since he had held him in his arms, pressed his lips to the smaller mans, and tasted his tongue in his mouth. Days since they had lain together, flesh to flesh. And he wondered, when would Ferris come for him again?
He could see the two, just ahead, though he was too far back to make out their words. Ferris was smiling at Rupert, but it was no different a smile to the ones he graced Russ and Tommy and the other men with, Nathan assured himself. He had no reason to be jealous, Ferris did not bed men like Rupert, Nathan was sure, for Rupert was all muscle and power, whereas Nathan was not.
It's possible that I am not his ideal, he countered bitterly, It's likely that Rupert has something I do not. He had soon himself convinced that Ferris treated Rupert different to the other men, and thus became foul in mood.
He passed the rest of the day bitterly, being short with any who spoke to him. He was contemplating on asking Ferris about Rupert that night, but decided against it. It had been but two days since Rupert had joined New Model Army, Ferris would argue that assumptions should not be made after such short a time, and that it took him more than a few days for him to be taken with anyone. Or so Nathan thought his friend would say, for he that night he did not put the question to him.

The nights were the only times Nathan had to spend alone with Ferris, and he cherished them. Even when Ferris fell immediately to sleep, for Nathan would stay awake to watch him and admire his beauty. He was often the last to drift off these nights, curled tight into Ferris and enjoying the sound of his gentle breathing.

The stars lit up the sky, and Nathan and Ferris under them, Nathan with his bible which he was reading with his back to the fire. It had been a week since they had picked up Rupert, and since then he and Ferris seemed to have drifted apart, even if only slightly. They had been marching every afternoon, and the following day it seemed they would be traveling past Rupert's old residence. Ferris had shaved the black mans head a few hours before, so as he would not be recognizable. Nathan wondered what Rupert had done to make his fear or shame so great that he could not be seen by his former house. He couldn't help a small smile. Nothing kindly, I can imagine, he thought.
He was suddenly aware of Ferris watching him while he read and pondered, and couldn't help being glad that he was not sitting with Rupert, but instead with him.
“Nat,” Ferris said suddenly, but softly, and Nathan lifted his head from the pages. Ferris lay in his shadow, propped up on his elbows. He had a frown on his face, which Nathan detested.
“What do you think of Rupert?”
The question took Nathan aback. He had not expected it, and his answer was ill prepared.
“He has a short temper.”
“Indeed.” Ferris looked thoughtful. “You seem not to like him much, is that why?”
“It is he who does not like me,” Nathan replied uncomfortably. “He has no interest in making friends with any besides you.”
Ferris's frown deepened, as he said, “I fear that may be true.” He sighed and cast his eyes away, and Nathan wondered what was going on inside his thoughts. They sat in silence for some time, until the field was full of the usual night time sounds made by the other men, and the fires had begun to die low. Nathan was surprised that Ferris was still awake, and although he was tired he would not sleep until Ferris did, but rather than continue with his book, he went to lay next to Ferris, and felt suddenly tired.
“The nights are getting colder.”
“Aye,” said Ferris in a whisper, and a smile played on his thin lips, “But we shan't be cold.” And he put those lips to Nathan's, gently, but not without passion. And Nathan gasped and pulled away, though regretfully. “What if someone wakes?”
“They drank a lot, they will not wake.”
“But if they do?”
Ferris sighed, and Nathan bit his own lip. He wanted Ferris, but not enough to get hung for it.
“Tomorrow,” he promised Ferris, “before we march.” And to his surprise, Ferris agreed and pestered for no more.
“Nat,” said Ferris a short while later, making Nathan start. He had thought his friend to be asleep.
“Ferris?”
“I love you.” Ferris did not open his eyes as he said it, but there was a small, clumsy smile on his face, and that and the words together made Nathans heart melt.
“And I you,” he replied. And that night he had no trouble sleeping.