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Che was always sort of a masochist, even though he felt truly disgusted by his own reactions, repelled even. Fidel knew of this, non-stop attempting to use a lighter tone of word when adressing Ernesto. Wouldn't want him getting in deep sexual need mid-scold. He didn't give the shorter man special treatment, just managed to not get him horny.
Did Che like this? Not at all. It was a constant reminder of who he was. A gross pervert! A gross perverted man who was loved by Fidel Alejandro Castro Ruz.
Currently the revolutionary was lying on his cot, devastated. He couldnt handle getting another erection purely from getting yelled at. Especially by his comrade. Che wasn't usually self-loathing, given acceptance to himself a while back, but he still could not get past this one point of his person. Just as he was about to start softly crying, which is not something he does often, his lover came to see him.
"Che...?" - a soft voice echoed through life into his head. "You don't have to be ashamed you know, happens to the best of us." - the words were nice, but Ernesto knew that his friend didn't understand what he felt.
"It does not, Fidel. I should be even more ashamed as of now." - the revolutionary managed to maintain a quite stern tone of voice. "I'm supposed to be working on myself and the way my body works, and instead Im getting hard-ons from a little yelling" - he was scared to look Castro in the eyes.
"I could help you, you know. If you'd open up to me about it. There's no need to be ashamed" - Fidel crouched next to Guevara, placing a hand in his hair. "I just wish you'd talk to me. You're usually so talkative, even about your emotions, but when it comes to this you're like a dead man." - his hand ran through Che's hair.
Ernesto hesitated. He hated this topic, everyone who knew about his tendencies knew about that, it was no surprise anyway, was it?
"And I wish it'd go away, or I'd stop caring" - the man sighed.
"Did you pay attention to my words at all?" - Castro chuckled. "I can help, comrade. Just say the word." - he pressed a soft kiss to Guevara's forehead, knowing the other enjoyed this small contact, especially when he was in a negative mood.
"I'd like your help, I just dont understand how you'd help" - Che leaned into Fidel's touch as his hand pressed to the smaller man's cheek.
"We'd figure it out together, how about that?" - Fidel lowered his voice.
"I'd like that, I'd like that a lot." - was the answer he got from his lover.
They changed positions and for the rest of the night, till day came, Fidel and Che would lay together, Fidel propped up with Che on his chest in his arms.