Seeing You

by Dakota Flint

  I didn’t dignify that with a response, but I did put an exaggerated swing in my hips as I walked back to the bunkhouse, smiling as Wade laughed again.

  I found myself whistling as I heated up the leftover chicken from last night instead of waiting for Billy to cook dinner. His hamburgers were always dry and overdone. I tried to tell myself to stop, but I whistled through my shower too. I whistled while pulling on a clean pair of Levi’s and a blue shirt Erin had bought me a couple weeks ago to match my eyes. Why I would want to color coordinate with my body parts I had no idea, but Erin had acted like that was a really good thing.

  I was still whistling as I pulled on my boots, just a regular whistlin’ fool.

  But it felt good.

  When everyone was ready to go, three piled into Wade’s truck, and four into Billy’s. I was squeezed between Wade and Mack on the bench seat. Wade had indeed showered, because I smelled mint and pine and clean just rolling off the body pressed tightly against my side.

  We were quiet on the way to town, except for the sound of Wade humming. I fought the urge to whistle and occasionally joined Wade’s humming with my own when I couldn’t help it. Hearing me join in, Wade grinned over at me, and Mack snorted and said something about young fools being “so damn weird these days.”

  We went into Ginny’s Saloon, not a gay bar by any means, but friendly enough that Wade and I probably wouldn’t get our asses kicked. Wade and I went to go grab beer from the bar while Mack and the hands snagged a pool table.

  While we waited for the beers, I said, “Shame we picked Ginny’s.”

  Wade didn’t look at me but I could see the grin fighting through. He said, “Why’s that?”

  “I wouldn’t mind a whirl around the dance floor with you, cowboy. Don’t think we’d get away with that here.” I looked around at the mixture of weathered cowboys and young kids looking for trouble. Yeah, we might not get our asses kicked for admitting to being gay, but if we started twirling around together, somebody might have a problem with it.

  “Yeah. I think you’re right. Shame.” Wade’s hazel eyes looked more green than anything tonight, shining bright with…something. Something good, something I wanted to see every time Wade looked at me.

  “Yep. ‘‘ S what I said.” We just stood there smiling at each other like the fools Mack had called us earlier. I didn’t know what this was exactly, or how things had changed from last week, I just knew it was warm and good, and it was running back and forth between us, bringing smiles and laughter and teasing. And the promises of more.

  I never wanted it to end.

  The moment was interrupted by the bartender coming back over with the pitchers. We paid and headed over to play some pool.

  Two hours later, I was riding a nice buzz and starting to feel downright good. Excited. Which might have had something to do with staring at Wade’s ass for the majority of that time while he was bent over taking his pool shots. Man had a damn fine ass, filled out his denim just right, that was for sure. I realized I was getting myself in trouble that would soon be very obvious if I kept composing odes to Wade’s ass in my head, despite my slouch against the wall in the darkened corner.

  Wade and Mack were playing for some serious money, competitive bastards. Billy was kicking Tom’s butt over at the other pool table, Joe had left an hour ago with a blond woman who looked at least ten years older than he was, and Dwayne was currently trying his luck with a redhead at the bar. I decided to get some air.

  I was leaning against the corner of the building in the shadows, inhaling the scent of early fall nights in Big Sky country, and thinking about the last few months and how glad I was that I came home when Wade joined me.

  “Thought you were winnin’ big in there.”

  “Nah. Old man cleaned me out.” Wade didn’t seem too bothered about it.

  “Better not let him hear you call him old man. Unless you’re not partial to your front teeth.”

  “Too late. And it’s wasn’t pretty.” He paused. “So, why’d you leave? Didn’t want to stick around and see me get my ass kicked?”

  “Wade, I got ideas for your ass, and they’ve got nothin’ to do with kickin’.” Shit, did I say that? I’d definitely had one too many. I leaned farther back into the shadows, not wanting Wade to be able to see my face.

  “Oh, really? Maybe you should tell me more about them, then.” Wade didn’t even look like he moved, and yet all of a sudden there he was, right in front of me, all I could see. The look in his eyes was intense, and the shadow was creeping over his face as he moved closer.

  “I’m not sure…” I smelled the yeast on his breath, felt my hat tip up off my head and tumble down to the ground as his knocked into it, felt the heat of his body, felt him breathing. Then I was breathing him in, getting ready for the taste of Wade, finally, when the door to Ginny’s slammed shut.

  “Wade? You out here?” Mack. I groaned and leaned my head against the side of the building. Wade stepped back into the light.

  “Yep. You ready to go?” Wade looked completely at ease, as if nothing had been about to happen here in the shadows.

  I stepped into the light too, and Mack just squinted at me for a moment. Then he looked at Wade, snorted, and said, “Yeah. I’m about ready to head home. Stayin’ out ’til the wee hours is for the young fools.”

  I studied Mack’s face, tried to figure out if it was more than that. Relieved, it really did look like he was just tired.

  “All right, old man, let’s go home.” I might have had the brass to say it, but I still put a hop in my step on my way to the truck, trying not to laugh at Mack’s outraged mutterings that followed close behind.

  I found the third sketch the next morning, rolled up, on my unmade bed after I came back from a morning dip in the pond. Probably the last of the season, ’cause the water had been cold. I stood there dripping on the wooden floor, shivering, and I contemplated it. I had a feeling…

  Yeah, this one was of me. It wasn’t a very graceful pose. I was half bent over, hauling up a wooden slat, my hands covered in work gloves and my hat shading my face from view. I sat down on the bed and looked at that drawing, and I finally got a clue.

  “I want you to see me, see that I’m sorry I left and I’m back to stay. I’ll help you hold onto this place, I swear…”

  I studied the sketch another minute, and then I set it on the dresser until I could frame it and hang it up next to the other two on my wall.

  I didn’t hunt down Wade to say thank you this time. I realized he was telling me something, but I still didn’t know how much he was saying.

  I spent a week avoiding Wade. I was unsure of what he wanted, where he was going with this, so I did what I do best. I ran.

  Every time I saw him coming, I went the other way, or tried to look busy, and if that didn’t work, I hid. Not behavior to be proud of, really, but sometimes not knowing and hoping was better than finding out and being disappointed.

  What a coward I was. I wondered if I’d find the yellow brick road somewhere on the ranch.

  I didn’t know if I was coming or going, and I was learning that running was still tiring even if it was partly figurative.

  After an evening spent watching TV with Mack and Dwayne, ignoring Mack’s mutterings—even when he called me Debbie D. for my “long face”—I said good night, my mind on what Wade was doing up at the house as I made my way to my bedroom.

  Was he getting ready for bed? Or already in it? Was he running a hand down the smooth skin of his stomach, into the hair at his groin? Was he stroking the length of his prick, enjoying the feel of it slowly filling until he was hard and throbbing? Was he picturing someone as he pumped himself, the intense feelings curling through his body? Did he cry someone’s name as his back arched and he shot his pleasure into his hand?

  Realizing I was leaning against my bedroom door and rubbing myself through my jeans, I huffed a laugh and started stripping. I was naked and about to climb into bed when I noticed the drawing left n
ext to my pillow. I wondered when he had managed to leave this one since it hadn’t been here when I came back earlier, and I had been in the bunkhouse since dinner.

  I picked it up, unfurled it, ignoring the clenching of my stomach muscles, and gaped. The sketch was of me coming out of the pond, running a hand through my hair as I tilted my face up to the sun. I was decently covered in cut-offs, and there was nothing indecent about what I was wearing or doing. But I wouldn’t show this to Mack or Erin, and definitely not to any kids.

  I looked…sexual. The lines of my body, the look on my face, I don’t know, but something about the way Wade had sketched me was unmistakably erotic.

  Was this how Wade saw me? Was he answering my questions? Asking his own? Was he waiting for me to make my own move? I felt more confused than ever, and abruptly I was sick of the game. Tomorrow I was going to ask Wade what he wanted from me.

  It was no surprise that I dreamed about his hands on me.

  The next morning I stumbled out of bed late after a night spent dreaming. I blinked sleep from my eyes and when my right foot slipped on something, I looked down blankly for a moment. I rubbed my eyes, not thinking it could be what I thought it was, but it was still there when I opened them again, so I leaned down and picked it up.

  There was nothing subtle about this sketch. I was lying on a bed, back arched, head thrown back, eyes shut, as I pumped my cock. I looked at this drawing of me and I blushed. This wasn’t memory, it was imagination.

  I stood there, my morning wood becoming actual interest as I thought of Wade spending time fantasizing about me, thinking of me spread out on his bed putting on a show just for him. I dragged on my clothes from yesterday and was on my way out the door within a few minutes. At the last second, I turned around, rummaged through the drawer in my bedside table and stuck the lube and a condom in my back pocket.

  Then I went to find Wade.

  Chapter Twelve

  I found Wade mucking stalls, not surprised that most of the meaningful conversations in my life have taken place around horse shit.

  “Where is everybody, Wade?” He obviously hadn’t heard me come in because he jumped before turning to look at me.

  “Mack and Dwayne ran to town. Billy, Joe and Tom are out working cattle.” Wade put down the pitchfork he’d been using and stepped out of the stall toward me.

  “Good. Got something this morning.” No sense beating around the bush.

  “That right?” Wade’s smile spread slowly across his face. He looked like he had a naughty secret.

  “Oh, yeah. Think maybe you’d like it.” I walked up close to Wade until our chests brushed.

  “Think so?” Wade slid his right hand up my arm to my neck in one smooth caress that made me shiver.

  “Oh, yeah. I should pass it on.” Then we were kissing, tongues thrusting and hands flying as we both tried to touch as much of the other’s body as possible. It was desperate and needy and a little awkward at first as we learned the way our mouths fit together.

  I heard myself moan as I finally learned the taste of Wade. He tasted like coffee, a little bitter, and something else. Something that I would bet was just all Wade, rich and dark and so very good.

  Good in the way that climbing Mount Everest is good, or winning the Nobel Peace Prize good. There were no words for the feeling as he stroked my tongue with his and moved his hands down to cup my ass, bringing my hips up to rub our cocks together through denim. “So good.”

  “Yeah,” he took the time to mutter as he sucked on my neck, and we attacked buttons and belt buckles.

  “This isn’t going to last.” I thought I should warn him of that, and then he got his hand around my cock. Yeah, no way was this going to last longer than a few more strokes.

  “Last long enough to be in me?” Probably not, but for that I’d damn sure try.

  “Maybe. God, that feels so good.” He continued to pump my dick. “But not going to last long enough to fuck you if you keep doing that.” I wrapped my hand around his cock, loving the heft in my hand as it pulsed with life.

  “Shit, we don’t have anything.” Wade groaned and kissed me again. “We should go up to the house.”

  “Hell, no. We got everything we need.” I dug the condom and lube out of my pocket. “Turn around, hands against the wall.” I wondered what he’d think of that command.

  He didn’t say anything, just turned around, put his hands on the wall until he was almost bent over, and looked over his shoulder at me and grinned. “You gonna show me how I like it now?”

  “Sure am. Hope you want it rough and fast because anything else will have to wait ’til later.” I pushed his jeans all the way down to his ankles to help him widen his stance a little. Talk about down and dirty in the stables.

  “Yeah, don’t hold back. Been too long.” And with that we both froze as we thought about why. Then he turned his head to look at me again, serious this time, and said, “Dylan. Now.”

  I paused for just another moment, thinking that at some point you just had to make a conscious decision to leave the past behind, and then I finished rolling the condom down my cock.

  I slid a lubed finger into Wade, listened to his breathing catch as I got him ready. When he began pushing back onto my fingers and mumbling things like “please” and “now” over and over, I lined up against his entrance and pushed in.

  The feeling was so intense, the tight welcome of his body around mine, and we just stayed there a moment, my body plastered against his from where my hands covered his against the wall to the place where his body swallowed mine.

  We just breathed. In. Out. In. Out. And I never knew until this moment that I’d sell my soul for the pleasure of breathing.

  Then Wade groaned, and said, “Now. Please. Just move.”

  So I did. In. Out. In. Out. Like breathing, only this was ten times better. A million.

  I set up a pounding rhythm, pumping in and out, fast, hard, and I buried my face in the back of Wade’s neck, sucking on the skin there. Salt, sweat, man, Wade. I knew I’d never want another taste as long as I lived.

  Adjusting the angle, I knew when I hit the right spot because Wade tipped his head back to rest against my shoulder and whimpered. Yes, whimpered. I’d never want to hear another sound during sex as long as I lived.

  Wade was so sexy, and this felt so good, and I knew I was close when it occurred to me he might like a helping hand. Duh. I reached around and wrapped my hand around his cock, letting Wade fuck himself between my hand and my cock. I tightened my grip, put a little twist in, added a little rough, and then Wade was coming, his body tightening around me as he shot, and that was it. I was done. Or completely undone.

  My climax left me gasping for breath and blinking my eyes to remove the spots dancing in front of me; my legs felt like the merest wind would knock me right over. I leaned on Wade, letting him support me. “Are you okay?”

  Wade snorted. “As soon as I can talk, I’ll tell you. Have you seen my brain? I think I lost it somewhere.” Those were a lot of words. I laughed and then Wade joined in, and I thought from now on I would always order hot, desperate sex in the stables with a side order of laughter for after.

  When the laughter died, I turned his head and captured his mouth in a soft, wet kiss, lazily stroking his tongue with mine. We both moaned, as if adding this connection again was too much. I felt Wade stiffen.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “What?” The galloping of my heartbeat drowned out everything else. I listened and heard what sounded like a car door slam. “Shit.”

  ‘Yeah.” And then we were scrambling to clean up as best we could and yank our clothing back on. I looked around for a place to put the condom, and finally just shrugged and stuffed it in my pocket.

  We looked reasonably presentable by the time we made our way out of the stables and saw Mack and Dwayne unloading feed from the truck. Mack glanced at us and gave me a knowing look that made me drop my gaze and scuff my boot in the grass.

&nbs
p; Wade turned to me, “I need to make a couple calls, and I’d like to talk to you if you have a moment, Dylan. Will you come up to the house?” By the look in his eyes, I didn’t think we’d be doing any talking.

  “Sure, I’ll help unload and then I’ll be up.”

  Wade nodded and walked toward the house, the slight hitch in his gait making me flush.

  Dwayne paused next to me on his way to the barn, his face earnest and his eyes on Wade’s retreating back. “Is Wade okay? He looked flushed and he’s walking like he spent too much time in the saddle without a break.”

  “Yeah. He’s fine.” My voice sounded strangled to my own ears.

  When Dwayne was out of earshot, Mack came around the truck, clapped me on my back as he hooted with laughter. “Boy, I don’t even want to know what you both been up to. Just glad.”

  “Glad?” I wasn’t sure what he meant.

  “Yeah. You both been alone, and it’s nice to see my boys happy together.” Mack smiled, clapped me on the back one more time, and then ambled toward the bunkhouse. I helped Dwayne finish unloading, grabbed a quick shower, and then made my way to the main house, whistling.

  Happy. Yeah.

  Chapter Thirteen

  An hour later I had my mouth wrapped around Wade’s cock, finally learning the taste of him as I gave teasing licks from base to tip, swiping my tongue over the head, which was steadily leaking pre-come.

  “Please.” Wade was gripping the sheets in both hands, his head thrashing from side to side. I gave him what he wanted and sucked first on the head of his cock and then sank my mouth down his length until I felt him nudge the back of my throat.

  I threw everything I had into it after that, just getting off on the taste of Wade, on the feel of him sliding through my lips and over my tongue. I wanted him to enjoy this as much as I was. From the groaning and whimpering and the way his hands moved from clutching the sheets to clutching my head, I think he was.

  I swallowed when he came, and that was it for me. I came without even touching my own cock. After I stopped trembling, I licked his dick clean, gentling my tongue strokes so it wouldn’t be too much for sensitized flesh.