by Cooper West
Pulling out the book of standards he had been practicing out of for two weeks, he picked a favorite and warmed up with it on his guitar, then started working on riffs. Jazz only looks easy after you have practiced yourself into a coma, and Gary wanted to try out ideas he had fromwatchingthe jamthe night before. The pecan harvest kept up in the background, the noise like a tide rolling in and out as they worked up and downthe rows oftrees.
Suddenly, in-between two bars of music, Gary realized that the farmwas quiet. He put down his guitar and frowned at his sore fingers, surprised to discover it was well into lunchtime. He looked out the window to see the machinery sitting still in the distance, obscured by trees, and no one around. Sighing, he went to fix himself some food, rest his hands, and try to decide if anything he came up with was worth recording and (somehow, someway) sendingto Tallyfor feedback.
It was a strangely soothing pattern to start up again with his music when the machines turned back on in the orchard. Eventually he put on his headphones, set up his good recording mike, and played through a couple of songs—until he was startled out of his chair byChuck loominginthe livingroom.
“Shit!” He caught himself as he tipped over, clutchinghis guitar.
“Sorry. I knocked.” Chuck pointed at the open door, not lookingveryrepentant.
“S’okay. Headphones.” Gary pulled themoff and waved themaround as explanation.
“You’re good.” Chuck tilted his chin toward the guitar.
Gary rolled his eyes. “Professional musician. I don’t get paid for sucking.”
Chuck’s eyebrows shot up, and Gary felt himself blush. Chuck smirked. “Good to know.”
“Shut up,” Gary mumbled, resting his guitar in its stand, trying not to think too much that Chuck had been listeningto himplay.
Chuck laughed, the same unselfconscious and relaxed bark that had entranced Gary the night before. It was hard for himnot to smile back.
“Harvest is going good. Going to be some serious money this year, I think, what with the quality and demand.”
“Well, thank god for that,” Gary sighed in relief. Chuck nodded inagreement. “We’ll be here for a week or so. A hundred and twentyacres can’t be done ina day.”
“I expected that.”
Chuck looked shifty for a second, glancing around the place, thenturned back to Gary. “Youate?”
“Uh, yeah, when you guys broke for lunch, too, I guess. Been working on this….” He waved a hand at his laptop. “Trying to get some sounds to send to my manager. Breaking into a new genre isn’t going to be easy.”
Chuck bit his bottom lip, and Gary tried not to imagine doing the same to him. He coughed and shifted onthe stool, but Chuck did not seemto notice.
“You’re good enough, it shouldn’t be.” Chuck pointed at him, his expressionserious. “You’re good.”
“Well, thanks. I—”
“Why didn’t you play with us last night? What I heard just now tells me it would have been child’s play for youto runrings around us.”
Garyopened his mouthand shut it again. Chuck’s eyes darkened. “Too good to playwiththe locals?”
“What? No!” Gary rubbed his face. He did not want to explain.
Chuck just stood there, looking at him and waitingfor ananswer.
“You guys were good. Maybe when I get to know people better, I’ll join in, but… right now, I can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” Gary gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t give me the downtrodden hillbilly routine. You spent enough time in Atlanta to know how good you are, I bet. It’s not about you, okay?”
“Stillnot givingme a reason.” Gary folded his arms. “Why is it important to you?”
He regretted his runaway mouth the second he closed it again. Chuck tilted his head as if considering dinner, then walked into the studio, captured Gary’s face withhis cold, cold hands and kissed him.
Gary melted into it, sitting up to reach toward Chuck. The man’s hands were cold, but his lips were warmand expressive, and there was none of the frantic urgency of the last time Chuck kissed him. Just about the point where Gary went to wrap his arms around Chuck and pull him closer between his legs, Chuck stepped back. He smacked his lips.
“I suppose it shouldn’t be, but it is.” Gary had to blink and rewind the conversation to know what the hellChuck was talkingabout. “Oh.”
Chuck reached out and gently petted the guitar neck, his eyes like lasers on Gary’s face. “You play withus next time?”
“I… I can’t. No, wait, really, I can’t. Stage fright.”Garyclosed his eyes withthe admission. He was not sure if he would be more mortified to admit erectile dysfunctionor not.
“You?”Chuck snorted insurprise. Gary nodded, keeping his eyes closed. “Long story. But I haven’t been able to play in front of strangers in… years. That’s why I’ve been tied to studio work.”
“Shit.” Garyopened his eyes. Chuck had not moved, but his expression had shifted to one of real concern. It surprised Gary. Most of his friends in Chicago had simply given up on himby then, and Roger never cared too much to begin with. They were still for a few beats. ThenChuck retreated a couple ofsteps.
“Youplayed just now, withme here.”
“Yousnuck in; I didn’t know youwere there.” Chuck nodded in agreement. “True enough.” He
looked a little sheepish and shuffled his feet, and Gary thought he was acting more like a shy teenager than a man nearly forty. “I’ll be here tomorrow, as you can guess. We always break for lunchat eleventhirty.”
It was a clear, polite invitation, so Garygrabbed it just to change the topic. “Come on up when you break, then. I’llmake sandwiches or something.” Chuck smiled again, his almost-shy grin, then nodded and walked out. Gary shook his head in confusion.
The next day he could barely work through any songs, waiting for Chuck. He felt like a teenage girl and then felt like an idiot, but the butterflies in his stomach would not stop. He knew they were just doing lunch, not each other—not with Chuck’s family and crew within shouting distance—but it felt important for some reason.
Chuck walked up right after 11:30 a.m., surprisingGarybybringinghis fiddle withhim. Garyhad just set aside his guitar and froze at the sight of the fiddle case.
Chuck shook his head, putting the case down on the couch. “Maybe later, ifwe have time after lunch.”
Gary nodded with relief, going into the kitchen. Chuck trailed after him and sat down at the battered dinette.
“Milk or sweet tea?”
“Tea. Thanks.”
“Yougot anythingagainst grilled cheese?”
“Only if I don’t get any,” Chuck laughed. Gary chuckled a bit and set to making lunch. He had set the cheese out earlier to get room temperature, and a little digging (and elbow grease) had revealed Aunt Harriet’s ancient old cast-iron sandwich press that Gary remembered from his childhood. It was a legendary press, probably fromthe 1940s, and weighed about ten pounds. Plugging it in took nerve, as Gary was unsure if it would short out the house, but it heated up fine, and soon they were both burning their fingers on gooey, drippyperfectlygrilled cheese sandwiches.
Chuck started making porn noises over his sandwich about two bites in. Gary concentrated on not paying attention, but that was more like telling himself not to think about a pink elephant. Once he tuned into Chuck’s happy grunts and moans, there was not much else in the universe that would have grabbed Gary’s attention.
Chuck finished witha flourish, lickinghis fingertips with his grease-smeared mouth. Gary sat there with his last bite of sandwich halfway to his mouth as he stared. Chuck paused, catching him in the act, and grinned broadly, knowing exactly where Gary’s mind had gone.
Gary stuffed the food into his mouth and went to collect their plates. Chuck leaned back, sprawling out indecently in the chair, and watched as Gary bustled around.
“Let’s play,”Chuck finally drawled. Gary nodded vigorously, confused bywhat he wanted, whichwas not reallyanythin
gnew. He could playthroughthat.
Chuck did not stand up, so Gary had to sidle by himto get out ofthe kitchen. Chuck grabbed his wrist.
“It’s good, like this.”
Gary was not entirely sure what he meant by that, so he did not respond. Chuck rubbed his thumb slowly against the inside of Gary’s wrist, sending goose bumps chasing up his arm. Just as quickly Chuck let go and stood up.
As they went into the studio/den, Chuck grabbed his case and took his fiddle out, messing with the tuning for a few moments before speaking. “Only got about fifteenminutes left onmybreak.”
“S’okay, we can get something in. You know ‘JerusalemRidge’?”
Chuck nodded solemnly. He paused withhis bow held up. “Youokayplayingwithme here?”
“I think you snuck in under the wire by surprising me yesterday.”
Chuck smiled kindly. “Well then, nothing more than to play.” He started off with the traditional tune, slowly and carefully, allowing Gary to settle in after him.
Playing with someone new was always a little stressful for Gary, because part of him was always trying to figure out how to work around them. It was part of his strength as a background musician for other performers, but it made himanxious anyway.
They circled around the tune carefully and got back to the beginning. Chuck looked over at him. “Take lead.”
Surprised, Gary fumbled half a bar but pushed forward, and everything changed. Gary had been practicing the song for most of the week and riffing on it, and once Chuck stepped back Gary immediately went into solo-player mode instinctively. Instead of challenging him, Chuck began following along, picking up the unique arrangement Gary created and supporting it. It was a completely different feeling than most any other time Gary played. He had devoted his career to being the perfect backup musician, and while he enjoyed the spotlighted solo as much as the next guy, it was a completelydifferent feelingfromleadingthe way.
It was one thing to know that intellectually and to follow great leaders who could point a group of musicians to their destination as naturally as they breathed. The playing Gary was doing was not that of someone looking for a place to go. It was a solid, confident musician who knew where he was taking the song and certain that the fiddle player would come along. Smilingjoyfully, Garyplayed witha sense ofease and happiness he did not oftenget to ina song.
He broke off in their third turn through the song, knowing that Chuck’s time was limited. Chuck packed up slowly, then deliberately put the case back onto the couchinstead oftuckingit into his arms.
“Maybe we could playagainlater?”
It was the musician equivalent of asking himself “up for coffee,” and Gary could not pretend he did not know that. He chewed his bottom lip while Chuck waited, patient but with his hands in pockets as if he was worried about what to do withthem.
Gary’s libido finally answered for him. “Sounds great.”
Once the decision was made, the tension dropped, and Chuck’s hands came out of his pockets. Giving Gary a small smile, he stepped closer and carefully leaned over where Gary was still sitting with his guitar in his lap. The kiss was chaste and dry but strong, Chuck pushing into it just enough to let Gary know how interested he was. Gary concentrated on sending the same message while also not letting his guitar thump to the floor. Chuck laughed as he pulled back.
“Later.”
Gary nodded, not trusting himself to say anything to that. Chuck strolled out, his gait confident, and Gary watched him as he left, cataloging the other man’s long legs and strong back and—Gary shook his head and tried to get back to the music. He was less successful than he hoped with that, distractions sliding in every few bars and makinghimthink about Chuck’s warm, slightly chapped lips against his. It was a losing battle, and he knew it.
Chuck showed up around 5 p.m. when the sun was starting to set. The days were getting noticeably shorter, but Gary had not thought much about it until Chuck was there several hours before a respectable dinner hour, lookingpolite and hopefulinthe doorway.
“Oh, hey, I don’t have anyfood set out or—”
“Don’t care.” Chuck shoved in, pushing Gary up against the wall with his body. He reached behind him and slammed the door shut, making all the windows rattle.
“Uh….”
“I can go,” Chuck said, his voice sincere but his bodyhot against Gary.
“No no, stay, I just… never mind. We’re good.” Gary grinned, pulling Chuck closer. Chuck groaned, tipping his head back to take a deep breath as he pressed himself against Gary’s body. He brought his hands up to hold Gary’s face stillwhile he kissed him.
It was a glorious kiss, softer than Gary expected but fullofpassion, Chuck’s tongue flicking in and out of his mouthas ifhe could not controlit.
“We can do this here or maybe upstairs?” Gary pushed Chuck back just enough to get some air to talk with.
“Yougot a bed upstairs?”
Garycringed. “It’s ancient.”
Chuck laughed, steppingaway. He kept his hands onGary, restinglightlyonhis shoulders. “We could give the old springs a workout,”he said, leeringjust a little.
Gary felt himself flush, and he could only nod in response because his voice was gone. They stood still for a moment before Gary pushed off from the wall, walking to the stairs. Chuck followed him up to the bedroom, quiet but close.
“That’s one old bed, alright,” Chuck said, looking at it judgmentally. Garyput a hand over his eyes.
“Don’t tell me it killed the mood. I won’t survive that.”
Chuck laughed. “It’d take more than that to kill my mood at this point,” he said, pulling Gary into an embrace next to the bed. “You know I’ve been waiting for this for a while.”He spoke softlyinto Gary’s ear.
Shuddering, Garynodded. “Same here.”
“Whatever I said before, I won’t say it again,” Chuck added carefully.
Gary closed his eyes. “It’s okay. I was just being insecure. I don’t want to make the same mistakes and —”
Chuck answered by shifting his head to start kissing again. Gary wrapped his arms around the tall, thin frame pressed up against him, holding them together. He deepened the kiss, asserting himself a little after Chuck’s manhandling. Chuck had a very dominant personality, which was part of the reason Gary was attracted to himin the first place, but Gary did not want to come across as a pushover.
He shifted them until Chuck’s back was at the bed, then stepped off and pushed hard. Surprised, Chuck barked out a laugh as he landed on his back, scooting up to lay out completely, the springs creaking under him. He glanced at the mattress. “Yeah, we’ll be makingthis old girlscream, alright.”
Gary snorted, trying not to laugh. Chuck reached out and grabbed the waistband of his jeans, pulling Gary down on top of him. Out of breath from the laughter and the landing, Gary pushed himself up on his hands to breathe. Chuck smiled at him, his warm body hot under Gary’s and his erection pushing against his thigh. Gary lowered back down slowly, watching the mercurial changes of expression on Chuck’s face as their bodies pressed up against each other, head to foot.
As he kissed Chuck, Gary sighed into the feeling ofbeingconnected withsomeone else again. Theywere still fully clothed, and the mattress hated them, but Gary was lying on top of a man he genuinely wanted, physically and emotionally, and who seemed just as interested in turn. Gary knew things were early yet, but his heart was already in it, wherever it might go, something he tried to convey to Chuck with long, languid, and loving kisses. He moved to kiss gently down Chuck’s neck, licking and sucking lightly. Chuck groaned and rolled his hips up, his eyes closed and his head thrown back. Gary watched him closely, amazed at how handsome the rugged musicianwas.
Chuck opened his eyes, looking drugged. “C’mon, babe, let’s get comfortable.”
Gary laughed again at the corny line but agreed with it in principle, so he sat back on his heels, straddling Chuck, to pullhis T-shirt off. Chuck watched himwhile u
ndoing the buttons on his own shirt, lifting up at the end to yank it off. Gary went to settle back down, but Chuck put one hand on his chest and used his other to undo Gary’s jeans. Gary groaned at the feeling of Chuck’s hand so close to him, bucking his hips forward.
“Eager?”
Snarling, Gary put both hands to use undoing Chuck’s jeans inretaliation. Theywrestled a little, trying to fight each other out of their clothes. Gary unseated himself, tipping to the side, which Chuck took full advantage of to roll them over so that he was on top. They had their pants and underwear respectively shoved down their thighs, so when Chuck slammed down on him, Gary felt their naked cocks rubbing against eachother for the first time.
The kissing turned messy and desperate as they moved together, hips rolling and thrusting as they tried to find frictionbetweenthem.
“Lube?”Chuck’s face was pressed downinto the crook of Gary’s neck, his hot, panting breath wet against Gary’s skin.
“No, no I didn’t pack for that….” Gary cursed his owndrymasturbationhabits and lack ofplanning.
Chuck moaned in frustration but started pushing down on Gary harder and faster. Their legs were threaded together, and the sweat between them was starting to make things slicker, so Gary went with it. He wrapped his arms around Chuck’s waist and back, hanging on as the strong man on top of him started fuckingagainst himinearnest.
The bed really did screamat that point, but Gary didn’t care. Thrusting his hips to meet Chuck’s, Gary gasped for air. “Please, fuck, come on, I need to feel this….”
Chuck did not answer but plowed his whole body against Gary’s. Gary felt the wiry curls of Chuck’s pubes scratching against his thigh, and his own cock was sliding in and out of the hollow of Chuck’s hip. It was enough, at last, to push him over the edge. Gary shuddered and came, crying out Chuck’s name in a short gasp before the explosion of his senses overpowered his mind.
