by Jerry Cole
Blake sighed and shrugged his flannel shirt off, then yanked the t-shirt he’d been wearing underneath over his head. This part didn’t concern him. His upper body looked pretty damn decent from all the work he did with large animals. Wrestling with wildlife and cattle all day was enough to keep him in shape. He knew that he wasn’t giving Jensen enough credit and that the other man wasn’t going to panic at a scar, but that didn’t make this any easier. It was dark even with the curtains open, and there was just the one bedside light on in the room, but he wished he could turn even that one off. Finally, deciding that this needed to be over because it was only going to get worse if he continued worrying, he unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his underwear off his hips. He had to sit down to get them the rest of the way off since his balance was terrible. By the time he was nude, Jensen was too, and the smaller man was on top of him in seconds.
Jensen moved them into the middle of the bed and pinned him down with a kiss that was almost feral. He was biting and nibbling at Blake’s lips, and one hand was running up and down his chest, pinching at his nipples occasionally. Blake’s cock had flagged some with the dread of having anyone besides a doctor actually seeing his leg in a room with actual lighting, but Jensen was doing his level best to resolve the issue, and it was very much working. Blake knew that Jensen had seen it, and he knew that at some point, he’d likely get a better, closer look at it and would have other questions, but for now that was something he could ignore in favor of much more interesting activities.
He had one hand in Jensen’s red hair again, and another on his ass, pulling the other man down so he could grind against him.
Jensen pulled back just enough to look at him. “Lube and condoms?” he asked, slightly breathless.
Blake flailed at the bedside table, and Jensen took the hint and opened the drawer, grabbing a bottle and a pack of condoms.
“How do you want to do this?” Jensen murmured, leaning down again to nibble at Blake’s lower lip. “What’s comfortable?”
“I don’t totally know…Last few times…I topped. Wound up hurting by the end.” He sighed and squeezed Jensen’s ass again. “There are a bunch of old pillows under the bed…maybe shoving those underneath…”
Jensen nodded and hopped off the bed long enough to rummage around and produce three flat pillows. Blake took them and arranged them at his lower back and on his bad side. There were probably better ways to do this, and he’d have to figure out what those were later. His doctor had mentioned foam block pillows, but at the time, he hadn’t been all that interested in sex.
Now, looking at Jensen, ten years’ worth of ignored libido were roaring back. Even with his trepidation about the scars and even with the pain and stiffness in his leg, he wanted this. More than he’d thought possible. He understood how Jensen had felt…pushing through nerves and upset because the outcome was more important.
Jensen was looking at him with pure heat. He crawled up the bed to sit on his haunches and began to run his hand up Blake’s good thigh, eyes locked on Blake’s face. He set his other hand just above Blake’s bad hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
Blake’s mouth went dry at the hunger in Jensen’s gaze. He sat up and pulled the other man into another heated kiss, sucking Jensen’s tongue into his mouth. He heard the click of the lube bottle opening and widened his legs as he felt a finger gently probing around his ass. Jensen went slowly, pushing in one finger, then a second. He scissored his fingers a little, then began probing a little more vigorously.
Blake broke the kiss as he felt the brush of the fingers against his prostate. He gasped slightly and tensed, arching his back. “Oh fuck…”
Jensen grinned wickedly probed his prostate again, stroking it firmly.
Blake’s cock twitched, and a dribble of precum leaked out. He shuddered again. “Jens…It’s been too long…if you keep doing that I’m going to come.” He put up a hand and ran his fingers through Jensen’s hair once again. He couldn’t say why he was so fascinated with it, but it was soft, and vivid, and fit so well with Jensen’s personality. The hair on his chest and around his cock was slightly darker but still just as red, and the freckles all over his body were also more of a turn-on that Blake would have expected.
“All right, all right. Another time,” Jensen murmured, adding one more finger and finishing the stretch. “God, you’re so tight.”
Blake squirmed, and fell back, gripping the pillow behind him. “I haven’t…not since the accident. Didn’t trust anyone else.”
Jensen carefully removed his fingers and moved to lay over Blake again, kissing his neck. “I’m honored…truthfully it’s been nearly that long since I topped…”
“Then we’re on even footing…” Blake laughed a little, looking into Jensen’s eyes.
Jensen smiled, and it wasn’t the grin he had before. It was sweeter and far more open and earnest. He moved back again and grabbed one of the condoms, opening the wrapper and sliding it on. He looked up one more time, giving himself a slow stroke. “You ready?”
“Yes, fuck, Jens, please.”
“Promise me you’ll tell me if I’m hurting you.”
“I swear, just hurry up.”
Jensen nodded. He shoved the pillows back into position under Blake’s back and ass, then lined himself up and began to push in very slowly, watching Blake’s face for discomfort.
Blake closed his eyes at the feeling. He had missed this, and it was somehow that much headier knowing it was Jensen. He sighed softly as he felt Jensen bottom out.
“Fuck…Blake…God. It feels so good…” Jensen was gripping both of his hips, though he kept the pressure on the bad side light. He leaned over to kiss Blake sloppily. The angle was wrong, and there was a bit of tooth, but it didn’t seem to matter.
“Move, please…” Blake murmured, opening his eyes slightly.
Jensen nodded and began to thrust, slowly at first and then with more speed and force when he felt Blake urging him on with a foot and rising to meet his thrusts.
Maybe it was because he’d been single for so long, or maybe it was because he hadn’t topped in even longer than that, but Jensen was fairly sure sex had never felt like this. It was far more intimate, somehow, and he was riding high on endorphins. He knew with a crushing certainty that he was in love with Blake already, and it was terrifying, but it was also making everything more intense.
Blake was moaning louder, and there was a puddle of precum on Blake’s stomach and based on the noises he was making, he was getting close. Jensen reached between them and tried to match his strokes with the rhythm, but it was awkward and a bad angle. Blake didn’t seem to mind and came with a groan a few moments later. The clench around him sent Jensen falling after him, and he had to shift sideways to avoid collapsing onto the other man.
Jensen took a moment to get his head back, then rolled off the bed with exactly zero grace and went into the bathroom. He quickly disposed of the condom and grabbed a washcloth. He scrubbed himself off quickly, then grabbed another one and wet it for Blake, leaving the dirty one in the hamper.
He came back out to find Blake throwing the pillows he’d used onto the floor, a disgusted look on his face.
Blake looked up. “They’re covered in lube.”
Jensen just laughed and climbed back on the bed. “Good thing they weren’t your good pillows, then. You’ll have to throw them in the washing machine.”
“Yeah, or burn them.” Blake took the washcloth and scrubbed the worst of the mess off his stomach, legs, and ass, then threw the washcloth into the pile with the soiled pillows. “Better them than the bed, I guess.”
Jensen pulled the covers up over both of them, then snuggled into Blake’s side. “Yeah, that’s easier to clean.”
Blake hummed quietly in agreement. He shifted to look at Jensen and began to lightly trace the dozens of freckles on his shoulders and arm. “Never thought freckles were a turn-on before, but man do I love yours.”
Jensen snorted. �
��I hated them when I was younger, just like my hair, but they bother me less now.” He reached over Blake’s waist to pull him closer but paused when the other man winced slightly. “Are you okay, Blake?”
“Yeah, just sore, that’s all. I should probably take a muscle relaxer, or I’m going to be useless tomorrow. The alcohol should be out of my system by now.” He shifted to sit up and turn the light on over his nightstand. He rummaged around for a pill bottle. “I’m apologizing now if I say anything dopey once I take this.”
“I’m so sleepy I don’t think I’ll be awake enough to hear it, don’t worry.” Jensen yawned and got comfortable as Blake took his pill, turned off the light, and pulled the covers back over them both.
Chapter Nine
Blake had woken up first the next morning, feeling sore and stiff. He had been briefly unsure why one side of his bed was too warm until he remembered what had happened the night before. The muscle relaxers always made him groggy the next day, but it was a small price to pay to be able to sleep uninterrupted. He got out of bed and grabbed his cane, then went to use the bathroom and came back to find Jensen up and pulling on his underwear.
Jensen grinned at him when he looked up. “Sleep well?”
“Very. You?”
“Like the dead. Jeanie texted me and told me we’re all meeting at your office and I’m going to drive to the bird people’s place from there. She asked if we could use your truck and swap the plates on it.”
“Yeah, I told her that was fine earlier. Pretty sure she’s not supposed to be swapping plates on vehicles, even if she is a cop.” He grabbed some clean underwear and a shirt from his closet. “Did you bring a change of clothes?”
“Yeah, a couple options. I wasn’t sure what I would need. But I live in town so I can grab something else if what I have isn’t right.”
“I have no clue what kind of attire is appropriate for infiltrating a bird mill, sorry. Probably isn’t black tie, at least.”
“No, cocktail attire at best, I would think,” Jensen snorted.
They finished getting dressed, and Blake quickly fixed breakfast for Ginger before putting her in the carrier and taking her with them. She didn’t like being home alone, and Blake was fairly certain that one way or another, he was going to need to find another cockatoo. They drove into town in Blake’s old truck, discussing everything but what they were about to do.
***
“I still don’t like this plan at all. Are you sure there’s nobody else?” Blake had crossed his arms tightly across his chest and was glaring at Jeanie and Sheriff Winston. They were all standing in the break room of Blake’s veterinary practice, discussing the plan for how to get footage from inside the bird barn. Somehow, Jensen was still the best and only pick to go in alone and pose as a buyer, and the idea of Jensen in any kind of danger made Blake feel ill. He was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, but he couldn’t stomach much of it. He hadn’t even picked at the scone next to the coffee.
“Prudence and Michael Lee are going to recognize people from our department, and they’d recognize you, too, if they ever brought their animals up here. Jens is relatively new in town, and even if they do recognize him, there’s no reason they’d be suspicious about his story.”
“Buying a bird to drive to Fargo is absurd on sixteen different levels, and I cannot believe they bought it. Nobody sane is going to drive a pair of semi-feral cockatoos to Fargo in the middle of winter,” Blake grumbled. “Who the fuck drives to Fargo, period? Why does anyone live in Fargo? Why would anyone breed cockatoos in Fargo?”
“Plenty of people. The flights are fucking expensive. And the Dakotas have lax animal welfare laws so it isn’t out of the realm of possibility that someone would decide to breed birds there. Especially if they think there’s a demand.” Jeanie took a sip of her own coffee. “We’ll call this off if Jensen is uncomfortable with it, but he seems okay. You’re the one getting panicky.”
Jens moved to stand closer to Blake and put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Blake reached up and put his own hand over the top of it. “I’m fine with the plan. I know you’ll all be close, and nobody has ever indicated that the Lees were the violent type. They’re weird and abusive toward animals, but they’ve never been violent toward other humans.”
“We don’t know that…” Blake murmured, looking up at him. “They’ve only lived here about five years. We have no idea where they were or what they were doing before this.”
“No, we don’t, but it’s the best plan we have. If we get anyone from outside our group involved, the mole might hear about it and tip them off again. They’ll hide the birds, and we’ll be back to square one,” Sheriff Winston spoke up. “We just don’t have many options.”
“I’ll have a panic button in case anything happens, Blake.”
Blake sighed. “I know. Just… makes me nervous, that’s all.”
Jensen squeezed his shoulder.
It wasn’t that Blake didn’t have faith in Jensen’s ability to take care of himself, it was just that Mike Lee was a huge bear of a man, and Prudence wasn’t much smaller. They had guns on their property like everyone who lived on the Front Range outside of Denver, but they didn’t need firearms to harm Jens, they just had to physically overpower him, which would not be all that difficult. Jensen was in good shape, and he was resourceful, but he was physically not a large man.
“We sent the email, we set up the meeting, and it’s as settled as it can be. Let’s just get it over and done with,” Jeanie sighed. “I don’t like it either, and it’s against every policy in the book to be involving a civilian, but there just aren’t that many options in places like this.”
“Is the guy who dumped her outside involved with this at all? Or was he really just a hapless idiot?” Blake asked.
“He was just a dumbass and panicked because he wanted her gone. Likely won’t do jail time, but he’ll pay a decent fine for being an idiot. Swore he’d never keep a parrot or any other pet again. I saw photos of the cage he kept her in, and it was about a third of the size it should have been. But that idiot was just a symptom of the problem, and if we can get these other bastards thrown in jail? It’ll make a much bigger dent.”
Blake swallowed hard and nodded. He picked up his coffee cup to take a swig of the now-cold liquid, feeling nauseous and worried at the thought of Jensen in there alone.
***
Two hours and a costume change later found Jensen driving Blake’s beater truck (with swapped plates) up to the old farmhouse near Longmont. He could already hear the cockatoos and macaws inside the barn screeching, even before he got out of the cab. It was bitterly cold, but it wasn’t snowing, and the sun was coming through the clouds a little. He was dressed in his oldest pair of jeans, and an old flannel shirt of Blake’s with the sleeves rolled up. The baggy shirt hid the camera wires and battery, and the camera lens was disguised as a button on his shirt that just so happened not to match, which wouldn’t be suspicious on a shirt this old. An old baseball cap with oil stains from Sheriff Winston’s truck and an old pair of work boots from Jeanie capped the look. He would have fit in at any working bar in the northern Colorado counties. Just another oil worker or farm hand who happened to have a brother who wanted some cockatoos.
He got out of the truck and headed up to the front door. There was no doorbell to be seen, so he knocked as hard as he could while still wearing gloves. The porch was a cement slab with iron railings around it, and it had old plastic chairs, faded children’s toys, and an old couch scattered around, all covered in a thin coating of snow and ice, all looking like they had seen better days.
A few long moments later, an older woman with scraggly gray hair and a pronounced jaw opened the front door, leaving the rusted storm door closed. “You the one looking for a couple M-2s?” she asked, a bulge of chew in her left cheek.
“Uh yeah, I’m Matt.” Blake had coached him that Moluccan cockatoos were referred to as “M-2s,” and other cockatoo species were often referre
d to in similar ways. Umbrella cockatoos were “U-2s,” for instance.
“Prompt, ain’t you? All right let me pull some boots on, and I’ll show you the pairs we got. You brought some cash?”
“Yeah, I did.”
She nodded approvingly. “I’m gonna lock the front door and meet you at the back. I don’t want your boots fucking up my floors. You bring earplugs?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jens replied. She shut the door and locked it, and he wandered around to the back of the house. Prudence reappeared at the back door and pulled on a pair of thick rubber boots, then shut the door and led the way toward a barn that looked newish compared to the rest of the buildings on the property. It was just hilly enough that he couldn’t see too far beyond the barn, which meant that the trailers that had been used to house the birds during previous inspections would be easy to hide.
“We have it insulated with heaters because they’d all freeze to death otherwise. Don’t leave the stupid birds in your car for long in this weather, hear?” She unlocked a padlock on the side door of the barn and led the way inside, into a cacophony of loud, miserable birds. “Put your earplugs in if you want to be able to hear anything tomorrow.”
He did as she directed, then followed her inside. Jensen looked around at the inside of the barn and felt ill. There were hundreds of miserable-looking birds in small cages screaming for freedom. Many of the cages were stacked one on top of the other, so the birds on the bottom were catching poop and food from the birds on the top, and all of them looked dirty. It wasn’t just cockatoos, but birds of all colors and sizes.
“If you’re looking for Moluccans, those are back here,” the woman said, gruffly, leading the way through the maze of cages. “I only have four now, so you either gotta wait for them to give me some eggs, trade me with something else, or pay out the ass.”
They stopped at the back and right corner of the barn, where two long, wire cages held two sets of scruffy-looking cockatoos. One of the birds was plucked as bad as Ginger, and the other three showed varying levels of plucking and feather destruction. Little plywood huts sat on the end of the cages.
