Page 51 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight

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ole slept in Grady’s bed every night like before, and Grady had a mind to want to keep things like this always.

At first, Grady just held him and Cole squeezed him back, vulnerable in a way he wasn’t in the daytime.

Within a few days, they were kissing. And when they kissed, Grady held him, held him tight while Cole mouthed at his throat and Grady ran his hand up and down his back.

He felt how hard Cole was, and he knew Cole felt his own response pressing into his abdomen.

But they never took it further that first week, and that was just fine with Grady.

It was Cole who broke the pattern when he rocked down onto Grady with a firm roll of his hips, his intention clear.

Grady slipped his hands to Cole’s hips, not to stop him, just holding him while he got a rhythm going.

They weren’t kissing, Cole’s lips were just brushing against his as he rubbed off on him, their breaths mingling.

Grady saw Cole’s eyes squeezing shut and opening again and searching Grady’s out like he was asking if this was okay, asking if Grady wanted this. Grady pushed his hips up in answer.

Cole gasped and reached down for his pants, trying to shove them out of the way with frantic movements. Grady kept on running his hands up and down the bare planes of Cole’s back, rocking his hips up and getting in Cole’s way.

“Quit it,” Cole said around a laugh when Grady did it again.

Grady chuckled. He let go of his back, reached down for his own pants, went to wriggle out of them and then stopped.

“Is this what you anglin’ for?”

“Yeah,” Cole breathed. He got rid of his pants and reached for the lube.

Grady did steady him then, his hands firm on his waist, his fingers brushing the taut muscles of Cole’s ass.

“You sure?”

“I am. Are you?” Cole said like he wanted it come off sassy, but there was fear there, like he was still thinking Grady might not want him.

“It ain’t me I’m worried about.”

Cole twisted his lips and frowned like he’d been doing on account of Grady worrying about anything to do with him.

“I’m bein’ serious,” Grady said and punctuated his next words with a firm thrust of his still covered dick against Cole’s ass. “I wanna do this more than anything. Wanna do it all the time. But I ain’t gonna force you if you ain’t ready.”

Cole braced himself with both palms on Grady’s chest and let his head fall forward. His hair cascaded around his face as he exhaled roughly.

“Fuck,” Cole said.

“What?” Grady stilled.

“Wanna fuck you so bad.”

Cole rolled his hips down again, and that was all the answer Grady needed.

He got his pants off and touched Cole everywhere he could while Cole got himself open, slicked Grady up and slid down.

Cole groaned and threw his head back. Grady reached up and slid his hand around Cole’s throat gently, his fingers tracing over his pulse point before sweeping up to brush his lips with his thumb, stroke his face.

He reached around to wrap his hair in his grip.

Cole looked down and met his eyes as he moved so only the tip was inside before sliding back down. He groaned and did it again.

“Move,” Cole breathed. Grady gripped his hip and fucked up into him.

They fucked like that, in perfect counterpoint, Cole’s eyes boring into Grady’s, and Grady watched him right back until Cole let out a broken sound and leaned down to kiss him, and Grady sat up and met him.

He held Cole tightly against his chest, rolled them over, and Cole gasped.

His arms came around Grady’s back when Grady started to fuck him hard.

He kissed Cole desperately, and Cole’s legs clamped around his sides, dragging him in as far as he could go.

Grady felt Cole start to come between them, his moans turning to short pants. Grady fucked in and came too. He crushed Cole against him, and their kisses turned to sharing air, to sharing the same space.

They were finishing up the stables and Cole was drilling in the last of the screws on the new stall door—an easy job except the screw he was working with wasn’t long enough for the thick oak, and they’d be better off using a bolt. Grady said as much. Cole ignored him.

“I’m gonna head on into town and get some bolts.” Grady stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

Cole shook him off. “This one’ll do it,” he replied. Fixated on it, he jammed the drill into the wood until it whirred like it was in pain.

“It won’t,” Grady said. He went to leave when Cole swapped the drill for the hammer and started smashing the screw into the beam.

“Cole, leave it,” Grady said. But Cole kept right at it, cracking the wood so hard it splintered. Grady was too late to stop it before he could see it happening—a splinter of wood piercing Cole’s hand. And Cole kept at it.

Grady grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back.

“It’ll fit!” Cole shrieked and tried to struggle out of the grip Grady had on him. “You ain’t gotta go to town!”

His face was red, and he was blinking back tears against the rage. Grady tugged him against his chest, pinning his arms alongside his body. Cole tried to wrench free, but Grady held him tight.

“Easy,” he said roughly, feeling something inside him breaking with the word. “Easy, now. I ain’t gonna go in there, I shoulda said. I’m gonna head over to Redbo County. All right?”

Cole sagged in his hold, breathing hard and holding back the tears, Grady could feel it. He wished Cole would just let them fall, let some of this out.

Cole rested his head on Grady’s shoulder, body heaving with his breaths. His words were muffled. “Redbo County’s a long way to go for a bolt.”

Grady reached for Cole’s hand and inspected it. A nice chunk of wood was residing in his palm, angry red on the edges but bleeding only a little on account of the splinter stopping the flow.

“I reckon I’m gonna need the pliers on this thing,” he said.

Cole snorted. “I can do it.”

Grady shook his head. He needed to let Cole go and get tweezers, iodine, some tape. He didn’t want to let Cole go. He tugged him closer with the arm around his shoulders and held on.

“You can let me go, I ain’t gonna go crazy again,” Cole muttered.

“Yeah, but I might,” Grady replied.

Cole lifted his head, unsure eyes flicking on Grady’s.

“Not on you.” Grady heaved a sigh and brushed Cole’s hair out of his eyes. “On account of you hurtin’.”

“I’m all right,” Cole said quickly. “Just wanted to get this finished is all.”

Grady took a deep breath, kept his gaze on the level. “You ain’t all right.”

“I am, I just wanted—”

“It’s all right.” Grady gripped him by the nape. “You don’t gotta be all right, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I shoulda said where I was goin’. And I shoulda said it before now—you don’t gotta be all right.”

Cole’s eyes brimmed with tears, but he dropped his head back to Grady’s shoulder, sucked in a sharp breath, and stopped them from falling.

“All right,” Cole whispered. “All right.”

Grady rubbed his back, listened to Cole getting himself back under control and wished he’d let it all out. But he’d do it when he was ready, Grady knew that much.

After Grady sorted his hand, got him a beer for the pain, to which Cole snorted, Grady noticed him smiling just a little bit more, his feet on the ground a bit more solid when he followed Grady out to the truck and they headed for Redbo County.