Page 15 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight

“W

hat’re you goin’ into town for?” Cole asked Grady the following week.

Grady had just come back from town, walked into the kitchen and found Cole at the table drinking coffee and reading a book. Cole had been out riding Chloe when Grady told him he was going into town and did Cole want anything. Cole didn’t.

“Sorry,” Cole said now and looked back down at his book.

“What’re you sorry for?” Grady asked as he poured himself a coffee.

“Askin’.”

Grady leaned against the counter, crossed his legs at the ankles, brought his mug up and sipped. Cole’s head was bent over his book. His hair was getting longer. It was curling a bit around the collar, the fine black strands shiny, like maybe he washed it every day.

“No harm in askin’.”

Cole sat up, craned his head over his shoulder, and looked at Grady with those serious eyes.

“What’re you askin’?” Grady said.

“What’re you goin’ into town for?”

“Whaddya mean?”

Cole turned back to his book and shrugged. “Nothin’. I dunno.”

Grady huffed, came over to the table and sat down. Cole glanced up at him, scrutinizing, that little mind working. Grady drank his coffee and waited him out.

“You goin’ into town every week but never buyin’ much is all. I’m just wonderin’. None of my business, though.”

Grady smiled slyly at him. “I’m socializing.”

Cole scoffed.

“What?” Grady’s smile widened.

“You don’t seem like the socializing type.”

Cole focused on his book again, and Grady watched a blush heating up his white skin. Grady wondered what on earth the kid was thinking.

“Gotta keep up appearances.”

“Do you?” Cole flicked his eyes up.

“Do I what?”

“Keep up appearances?”

Grady twisted his lips up into a mocking smile, and Cole laughed.

“Nah.”

Cole nodded like that’s what he thought.

“I’m just goin’ in for coffee, somethin’ to eat,” Grady said after a while.

“Got coffee here,” Cole said, and his blush deepened. He looked down again.

But Grady just nodded and said, “Yeah, guess we do.”

“Sorry,” Cole said into his book.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for.” Grady finished his mug and stood. “I’m gonna turn in early. Gotta start the cattle tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Cole said, his voice distant.

“You might wanna think about turnin’ in,” Grady told him as he headed out.

“Yeah, in a sec,” Cole replied, his head still in the book. Grady didn’t reckon he was reading it, though.

He paused on the threshold and watched Cole rub the back of his neck. Grady shook his head and went out. He went up the stairs and into the bathroom. He stripped down, turned the water on and got in the shower.

Grady was coming out with just the towel secured around his waist when he walked right into Cole coming in.

“Sorry, sorry.” Cole startled, his hands planting on Grady’s wet chest. Grady’s arms came up to Cole’s biceps to stop him from falling as he stumbled back.

“Easy,” Grady said.

“Sorry.”

Grady squeezed Cole’s biceps in a reassuring way and said, “It’s all right,” but it came out soft between them.

Cole’s eyes were fixed on Grady’s bare chest, on where his hands were planted and getting wet. Grady let out a breath as Cole dragged one in, his hands moving on Grady’s chest with the movement.

Grady let go and stepped back. Cole dropped his hands and put his head down, ducked by him and went into the bathroom.

He heard the shower start and wondered what the fuck just happened.

He adjusted himself against the towel and reckoned he might need to go into town again.

Then he thought about Cole asking about it and reckoned he might need to get something from the grocery.

He went into his bedroom, tossed his towel on the floor, grabbed for his sweats, and heard his thoughts and wondered what in the hell he was thinking.

He turned the light off, got into bed and listened to the shower running.

His dick was hardening up, and he frowned.

He’d just gotten a blow job, for fuck’s sake.

But he knew he wasn’t going to sleep if he didn’t take care of it, so he slid his hand inside his sweats, wrapped his palm around himself and ignored how dry it was until he couldn’t.

“Fuck it.” He sat up and opened his side-table drawer. He rummaged around for the lube in the dark, found it and lay back down.

He slicked up his hand, slid it back inside his sweats and started stroking.

He was going to make it quick and done. He listened to the water pelting in the shower next door and felt his hand slowing down, dragging it out.

It felt good. It shouldn’t feel that good.

He wriggled his sweats down until his dick was free and he had room to move.

He stroked from root to tip in a slow, tight rhythm.

He couldn’t believe how good it felt. He heard himself groan out loud, tightened his hand and sped up.

The sound of the shower was a constant in the background, and he felt grateful for it as he heard himself breathing hard.

He thought about Cole in there, wet and naked and washing that damn hair, and he thrust his hips into his fist and didn’t question where his thoughts had gone—it felt too damn good to stop it—and he was jerking himself to orgasm.

As he came down, he listened and heard nothing.

Not the shower. Not the creak of floorboards.

Just the sound of his breathing, loud and rough in the silence of the room, the house settling for the night.