by David Horne
Chapter Six
It didn't take long for the two men to finish their sumptuous meal. Sterling hopped out of his chair and cleaned up while Carter tapped his finger on the table. When the shorter man emerged from the kitchen, Carter frowned in thought.
"Time to get back to work?" he asked.
"Might as well," Sterling admitted. "There's always plenty to do around here."
"There are other things we could do," Carter suggested, playfully.
Sterling froze and slowly gave him a sideways glance. The look on Carter's face caused him to blush. "I don't know what you mean," he answered.
A toothy grin crept across the other's face, and he finally laughed, shaking his head and reaching his hand out. Sterling took it and pulled himself into Carter's arms. The chair groaned beneath them as he pressed in closer. Their faces were inches apart and their expressions suddenly serious.
"Are you sure you're up for something like this?" Sterling asked.
Carter frowned, confused, but then realized what he meant. "Oh, my leg?" He looked down at it and shrugged. "We might have to get creative."
Sterling smiled. "I think the bench is a bit..."
"Yeah," Carter breathed.
"I have just the thing, though." With that, he pushed back and held his hand out in turn. When Carter took it, he helped him to his feet.
There was a large, fluffy rug in front of the back fireplace and some extra cushions in the corner. Sterling grabbed them, and piled them up on the rug, while Carter leaned against the wall and waited.
He chuckled and crossed his arms. "It looks like you've done this kind of thing before," he teased.
Sterling gave him a horrified look, but then relaxed. "I might live in the woods, but I like being comfortable," he explained.
Carter simply snorted and nodded until the shorter man stepped back to him. He let his arms drop and interlaced his fingers with Sterling's when he took his hand. Then he let himself be pulled toward the makeshift seat. He shook his head, unsure.
"Do you think you can get down there?" Sterling asked.
"I don't know, but I doubt I could get back up."
Sterling frowned. "Maybe another time," he admitted, deep in thought. He heard Carter laugh again, and said, "What?"
"This is turning into a major operation." Then he nodded toward Sterling's small recliner. "I think we could manage that."
The recliner was next to the rug, across from the bench, and wasn't big enough for two people in the classic sense, but...
Sterling pulled Carter over, and let him settle in. Then he grinned mischievously, and climbed on top, straddling the man's hips. It was a tight fit, but manageable. He stared into his lover's sky blue eyes, and then leaned in and pressed their lips together. Carter's lips were soft, the bottom one formed in a slight pout, and Sterling nipped it lightly as they parted. He watched until Carter opened his eyes again, and then smiled at him.
"You're really good at that," Carter informed him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he answered, and then hungrily kissed him again.
Before long Sterling was breathless, and his cock was straining against his layers of pants. He moaned into the kiss and rocked his hips against Carter's lap. The two of them pulled apart, and Sterling stood back up. Then he held up his finger and told Carter to wait where he was.
He ran to the still room, and quickly went through everything he had. "Bear grease?" he called out with a laugh.
"What?" Carter exclaimed, and almost choked on his own laughter.
When Sterling came back, he was holding a jar of petroleum jelly. He held it up, and said, "It's a must in the North."
"For what?" Carter teased.
Sterling handed it to him with a glare, and then slowly unzipped one layer of pants and pulled them down. Underneath were his jeans, and he unzipped them and pulled them down, along with his underwear.
"Well, at least there's plenty of foreplay with that many layers," Carter joked.
Sterling smirked at him. "I'm trying to be sexy here," he complained.
"Oh, you are, don't worry," Carter assured him, and reached his hands around his lover's hips. He gave Sterling's ass a good squeeze, and then pulled him forward. Then he ran his hands up to the edge of Sterling's shirts and slowly pushed them up toward his shoulders. With some difficulty, he scooted closer to the edge of the recliner, and leaned in to his lover's stomach.
Sterling could feel Carter's hot, wet breath near his navel, and closed his eyes as his lover's tongue began to swirl around it. His now freed cock hardened even more, and he moaned again. For a moment, his lover's breath was gone, and he peeked with one eye to see him slicking up his fingers with the jelly before moving back. As Carter's tongue teased his stomach, Sterling felt his hands move lower again, and a gentle teasing of his opening. He didn't know how long he could stand still, and he reached out to steady himself with Carter's shoulders. The taller man's fingers were long, but gentle, and in just a few minutes, he began to squirm in pleasure.
Carter was careful, wanting to do this right. He could tell that it had been a long time for Sterling. Thoughts of the man's paintings, and how much they impressed him, floated through Carter's mind. He'd gotten to know the painter pretty well over the last couple of weeks, but he still felt a thrill of excitement to be in this situation. His mouth hovered over his lover's dark, pubic hair, but didn't go any lower. From the look on Sterling's face, and the sounds coming from his throat, he didn't think the man could take any more pleasure. Vaguely, his thoughts wandered back to that feeling he'd had before he had his accident – the idea that something had been calling him this direction, and he wondered if maybe he was meant to find Sterling. The thought makes him chuckle though, and his lover opened his eyes.
"What is it?" he asked, breathlessly.
Carter shook his head and slipped his fingers back out. "This all just seems very...serendipitous."
Sterling thought for a moment, and smiled, before crawling back into Carter's lap. "Maybe it is."
He kissed his lover's jaw as his hand fumbled for Carter's zipper, and Carter stripped off his sweater. Once he'd wriggled the man's pants down a little, he reached for the jar of lube. He slid his hand between them, and slowly slicked up Carter's cock. It was his lover's turn to moan and close his eyes, and the sight made Sterling that much more desperate to get on with it. When he was done, the jar of petroleum jelly fell to the floor as Carter lifted him toward him. With a hiss of surprise and pleasure, Sterling gently slid back down onto his lover's cock.
"Easy," Carter said, getting breathless himself. He held steady, waiting for Sterling to adjust, though his body screamed that it wanted to push. As he felt the shorter man relax into it, he pushed up slightly as Sterling sank down. A grunt left his throat, and he buried his head in the other's neck.
Sterling grabbed the back of the recliner for leverage and rose up again. Carter's cock was thick, and filled him completely, and as he sank back down, he groaned obscenely. He pushed it a little further, and he cried out from the mixture of pleasure and pain.
Carter followed suit, groaning Sterling's name, and looking up into his sweaty, pleasure filled face. He had a hold of his bottom again, pulling at his hips as his own bucked faster and faster. Neither of them had made love in quite a while, and he knew it was going to be quick. He leaned forward again, nipping at Sterling's collar bones, as the wound in his leg began to complain about the pressure.
"I'm sorry," he choked as he moved his hands up to Sterling's shoulders and used the leverage to thrust up hard. He heard his lover's strangled cry, and it drove him crazy. He pushed in over and over as Sterling bounced up and down in his lap. With one last cry, his pleasure broke, and Carter felt himself come hard. He thrust a few more times as the other man came between them, his own climax just as powerful.
When they were through, Carter leaned back in the recliner, Sterling collapsed on top of him. The two of them were slick and sticky and stayed there u
ntil they could catch their breaths.
"Why did you apologize?" was the first thing Sterling said when he could.
Carter smiled, feeling embarrassed. "I wanted it to last longer," he admitted. "It's been a long time though."
"For me too," Sterling whispered with a blush.
"Plus, I think my leg had had enough." The two of the laughed as best they could in their condition, and then Carter added, "It's probably a good thing Larry wasn't here. We would have scared him to death." He realized quickly that it was probably a touchy issue with Sterling, so he pushed him back and said, "I'm sorry, I—"
"No, it's fine," Sterling assured him, rubbing away the worried lines on his forehead. "I'm sure he's all right. He can take care of himself. He was always a wild animal at heart. He'll either be back or...he won't," he finished with a frown.
When it finally got chilly enough that they had to get up and get dressed, Sterling checked Carter's leg. Everything looked all right. The stitched were holding so he wrapped it back, tightly, with an elastic bandage. Despite having plenty to do, they were both exhausted at that point, and spent the rest of the afternoon inside, talking and playing board games.
As they sat at the table, finishing up a game of chess, Carter asked, "What did you do up here all these years, play yourself?" He glanced back at the cabinet, overflowing with games.
"Uh-huh. It works if you don't think about it too much, even the rest of them," Sterling answered, absently.
Before too long, the two of them were feeling amorous again, but before they could do more than get undressed, a strange sound drew their attention away.
"What is that?" Carter asked, his lips moving away from Sterling's neck. The sound was like some kind of faraway grumbling, but it was getting closer.
Sterling frowned, listening hard, and then jumped up from his chair. "Mail!" he exclaimed as he struggled to tug his pants on while running to the door. He zipped them up while Carter laughed, and then tugged on the wrong sweater. Luckily, they were all his anyway. Then he slipped into his boots, threw open the door, and went running out into the afternoon air.
Carter limped his way to the living room window, and watched as a small, single engine plane, landed in the distance. Then he saw Sterling running into the woods. Apparently, there was an airstrip of some sort on the other side of the stand of trees. He waited, wondering what kind of mail a man who'd run away from the world would get. It didn't take too long, and he heard the plane crank up again and take off a few minutes later. Sterling was slow in coming back, though, and he began to worry something was wrong. Finally, he saw him, looking forlorn, and slumping toward the house.
When the door to the cabin opened, Carter said, "What is it?"
Sterling looked up at him and pursed his lips. "Davis Jackson Contractors," he mumbled.
"Who's that?" Carter asked.
"The people who want my land."
Chapter Seven
Sterling opened the envelope, and he and Carter sat down at the table. He read through the letter, though he was fairly certain what it would say. He gritted his teeth and tossed the letter onto the table. Then he crossed his arms and looked away as his lover picked it up.
Slowly, Carter picked up the paper, and carefully looked the contents over. He shook his head, feeling confused, and slightly angry. "They want to build a resort?"
"Yeah."
"On your land?"
"Yeah."
"Well, they can't just do that. They can't force you out if you don't want to go," Carter said.
"They've been trying for about six months now. I mostly ignore them, but they keep trying." Sterling frowned. "I thought, maybe, it was a letter from my mom."
"She knows you're out here?"
Sterling nodded. "She's just about the only one."
Carter folded up the letter and put it back in the envelope. "They'll just have to find somewhere else," he announced firmly. When Sterling didn't look so sure, he said, "What is it?"
"I don't know. They really know their stuff. They seem to think I didn't properly file the paperwork for my land."
"I read that," Carter answered.
"What if they're right? I was kinda hasty when I moved out here. I just wanted to get away." He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand out at all angles.
Carter looked away too, not sure it was wise to broach the subject on his mind. Finally, he took a hesitant breath and said, "Why did you come out here?"
"You mean, you hadn't heard?" Sterling answered with a smirk. "Sorry. I just assumed there were all kind kinds of rumors and talk about it. That's how things had gotten. That's why I left. It was just too much."
"What was?"
"Everything," Sterling said, a little louder than he'd intended. He took a moment before continuing. "A big time gallery in New York noticed some of my work. They wanted to buy it, so they invited me out there to get to know them and the market. The art world was a lot different there. Life was different there," he added. "Everything was so...close. There were so many people, so much noise. I let them buy the painting but told them I was going home. They didn't like that much, but they liked the idea of future deals and an artist with, what they considered, an eccentric lifestyle.
"The problem was, a lot of people started to like the work. I was getting letters and phone calls and people stopping me on the street. I hated it, especially the ones who expected me to move out of Alaska and go to fancy parties and do shows. I just didn't want that kind of life. I just wanted to make a living doing my art. I didn't want to be famous or travel in fancy social circles. So, I took the paintings I had left, and moved out here, without telling anyone except my mother where I was going."
"You just...walked away from everything? I don't know if I could do that," Carter admitted.
Sterling snorted. "I think you have."
Carter chuckled and nodded. "Touché," he said in a fancy accent. "I don't plan on never talking to anyone again though," he added, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Could he really stay there the rest of his life? Was his and Sterling's relationship really that far along?
Sterling must have sensed his thoughts, because he sighed and said, "I think this is too much for most people. They need their televisions and phones and internet."
Carter whistled. "You've missed most of the age of social media. That's been wild."
Sterling smiled. "Most of my neighbors aren't completely off the grid. I've seen them using it. I've thought about getting a phone so I can do some kind of video chatting."
"Yeah?"
"I miss my mom's face and, maybe, I could contact the outside world without people really knowing where I am," he finished, quietly.
Carter raised an eyebrow. "Could be fun," he admitted.
***
Over the next few weeks, the weather continued to warm, and the workload on the homestead got busier and busier. Carter healed in record time and got to where he could walk on his own with a makeshift crutch. Sterling had made it for him as a gift, out of a sturdy tree branch and an old moose jaw he'd found in the woods.
"I can't believe you've been doing all of this by yourself," Carter complained one day, wiping sweat from his brow. He'd spent all morning collecting eggs, baking bread, and washing clothes by hand. He had no idea how time consuming and back breaking the latter could be. He rang out another pair of pants as Sterling walked over, appraising his work. He could tell by the look on the little man's face that it wasn't good enough.
"Well, I did lose some time looking after you," Sterling teased, and then shook his head. "That'll never dry like that."
"Don't you have a...press or whatever they're called?" Carter asked, but his lover only laughed. He glared at the man's back, and then squeezed the pant legs hard enough to make his hands hurt. Then he tried hanging them again before limping over to the greenhouse.
The weeds and brush had been fully cleared and, inside, the plants had germinated. Some of them even had their first leaves. Sterling wa
s busy watering when Carter came up behind him, startling him.
"My hands are cold now," he teased as Sterling tried to shoo him away.
Sterling started to make a smart remark when they heard a scuffling outside the door. He picked up his rifle, having made it a policy to take it everywhere now that the bears would be out and about. It didn't sound big enough to be a bear, but he didn't want to take the risk. With Carter right behind him, he crept to the door, and carefully opened it. When he did, something small and brown came scurrying inside.
"Larry!" Sterling exclaimed and scooped up the little mink. He was skinnier and his fur a bit shaggy, but other than that, looked none the worse for wear. "Where have you been?"
Larry didn't particularly like being held so he scrambled out of Sterling's hands and onto his head. In the background, Carter started laughing so hard he almost fell over.
"Nice to know he likes you," he quipped.
"Yeah," Sterling agreed, a contented grin on his face.
As a couple more weeks went by, the two of them readied the garden, and then transferred the plants from the greenhouse. A nervous Sterling made Larry stay inside most of the time, and the little mink retaliated by peeing all over the house. It got so musky, they had to deep clean it, and throw out some pillows. They also went fishing, did some repairs on the outhouse and fireplace, did a little hunting, and even set up some cheese when Sterling brought back some milk from Ralph and Martha's house.
Things seemed to be going well, but as Sterling showed Carter how to set snares one morning, he could tell that the man was restless. As they walked back to his cabin, he asked, "Is everything all right?"
Carter sighed and stopped walking. "I know you called my mom when you were at Ralph's place, but...I'd really like to talk to her myself." He hesitated, knowing it might be a touchy subject. "I'd like to make a trip into town."
Sterling's eyebrows show up. "That's a long hike."
"I left my car near the park. If I could get to it, I could drive the rest of the way."
