"My--" Chris groaned. "You're at my place? Shit, I came into town to wait for you. I'm in your living room."
"Yeah, I figured that out." Buck chuckled, and the sound was music to Chris' ears. They hadn't checked in every day, both of them too stubborn or too macho to cop to the fact that they could miss each other after only a few days. He had called once, using the excuse of checking in on the seminar. Buck had called once, using the excuse of horniness and they had shared frighteningly good, but uncomfortable phone sex. It hadn't been uncomfortable when they'd been doing it, asking whispered questions, urging specific actions--just one finger, I'd stroke it like that... are you hard... I'm like a rock... pinch your nipple for me... again... I love licking you there... faster... ahhh!--the act hadn't embarrassed him at all. He had lain back across their bed and propped the phone between his shoulder and the pillow, and lost himself in the fact that even from fifteen hundred miles away, Buck could take care of him.
No, it was the next morning that he'd been uncomfortable, when he'd remembered what he had said, the tiny mewling sounds he had made, and the fact that people at or near the age of forty shouldn't need to fuck so badly that they couldn't wait a week until they were both in the same time zone again.
Hell, maybe he'd just been uncomfortable because he'd woken with a hard-on and almost called Buck back.
"Chris?"
He flinched back to the present. "Be careful, Vin's got a girl up there--"
"Uh, yeah," Buck replied, and cleared his throat. "You're never gonna believe what I thought when I saw him stroll naked as a jaybird out of your bedroom."
"He's in my bedroom? I told him to use the guest bedroom down..." his words faded as Buck's tension finally registered. "Shit!"
"Now hold on, Chris, don't go jumping to conclusions."
"Why should you be the only one who gets to do it?" he retorted before he could rein in his reaction. Damn. Buck had catted around for so much of his life, and been catted around on so many times, he still couldn't quite believe that anyone would be true to him.
"It wasn't that bad," Buck said soothingly. "Just... you know, he barrels out of your bedroom, his dick's hard, you ain't expecting me home, or so I thought. It took me a minute to figure out about the girl."
"I'm surprised you didn't sniff her out first," he chided, but gently.
Buck cleared his throat, said gruffly, "Well you've got me off my feed in that department, stud."
Yeah. Yeah he did, and sometimes the fact that Buck had been faithful for going on a year and a half was a little hard for him to believe, too. "Forget it. Just--" he blew out a puff of air, "just hurry up and get here. I missed you."
"If I had a Mars light, you know I'd use it."
And Chris knew he would, throwing the siren atop his truck and barreling through evening traffic. "Where are you now?" he asked as JD walked back into the living room with Cokes. Buck? the kid mouthed; Chris nodded.
"Just turning onto Dakota Ridge," Buck supplied.
That was barely two miles from the house. "So I've got forty more minutes of waiting to do."
"Yeah." Then, "Listen Chris, seriously. About Vin, I didn't--"
"Don't," he interrupted. "No shit, Big Dog, forget it. Maybe I'd have thought the same."
Buck's hesitation punctuated the silence on the line. Then, "You ain't mad?"
"No," he lied. And he wouldn't be, by the time his lover got here. It was a stupid thing to hold against him when Chris knew for a fact that the longest ongoing physical relationship of Buck's life before this had been nine weeks.
"Well damn it," he growled, "how can we have make-up sex if you ain't mad?"
Chris' cock twitched at the passion in Buck's voice, and the promise of sweet reunion. "I reckon I could get mad about somethin', if that's what you want," he drawled.
JD butted in then, plenty loud for Buck to hear. "If you two are gonna get weird over the phone, I'm leaving!"
Chris's eyes darted to the kid's vaguely disgusted face and he flushed in spite of himself.
Buck chuckled, reading his mind. "Guess I'd better get off the phone before he embarrasses you."
"Too late," Chris admitted. It wasn't that JD was young; it was that JD was his employee. Hell, maybe it was that JD was young.
"Well then maybe I better not tell you what I was thinkin' on my way out to your place, huh?"
Chris shot another look at JD. "Definitely not."
"I keep telling you the kid's fine, Chris. Hell, I just think he's happy I'm home a little more and not chasing skirts 24/7."
"You keep telling yourself that," Chris answered uncomfortably. JD had known pretty much from the start, and with the advantage of sharing Buck's place, had picked up on it even before Vin did. He remembered JD's smart-ass little aside, Heck Chris, Buck doesn't mention a woman for over a month and I'm not supposed to think something's up? What kind of investigator do you think I am?
"Hey," Buck called out, and the way his voice had dropped a register and sounded so low and smoky gave Chris all the warning he needed.
"I'm hanging up now."
"Chicken," Buck got in amongst his laughter.
"That's right." He closed the connection before Buck could suggest... well, whatever he'd been about to suggest that would have involved Chris needing to slink upstairs for a little privacy.
JD, smiling, just shook his head. "You guys," he said, sounding indulgent and mature beyond his years. "Where is he?"
"My place," Chris said, staring at his phone. He should have guessed.
"He'll be awhile." JD's foot, propped over one knee, began to jerk in nervous rhythm. "You mind if I finish my movie?"
"No, JD, go ahead."
He should have remembered who he was talking to, and said 'no.' But it was JD's house too, so he suffered "Mortal Kombat" and stared at the second hand on his wrist watch.
By the time Buck hollered his howdy from the front hall, considerably more than forty minutes later, Chris had stretched out on the sofa and actually started to follow the film. Scary.
"Hey, you big stud!" Buck greeted JD first, grabbing him around the throat and ruffling his hair. "Damn, kid, you're makin' Chris watch that shit?"
"He said it was fine," JD protested, trying to wriggle out of the chair and slide, ferret-like, out of Buck's clutches.
"His home too," Chris added mildly. It was good to see Buck, to notice the tiny changes that only time apart revealed: crows' feet lined the corners of his eyes, and he'd put on a few pounds over the last year that gave him a not-quite-paunchy maturity and softened some of the harder edges on his face. His eyes, when they met Chris', still arrested Chris with that shining blue, and sparkled with the horniness of a youth he'd left behind long ago. Chris' skin tingled under that look, and he narrowed his eyes to hide his response.
"You sidin' with the kid now?" Buck groused before sauntering over in three big strides and bending low. "Won't get you what you want," he added in a whisper before he pressed their mouths together: fresh cologne, the light, musky smell of sweat, and that woodsy smell of his shampoo... Chris kept his lips firmly closed. "Chicken," Buck taunted again when he pulled back. "You wanna help me take my suitcase upstairs?" he offered with a grin.
"We're watchin' a movie here," Chris growled even as the tingle spread outward and inward, all directions. JD, he noted, had returned his eyes to the TV and didn't appear to be paying them any attention at all.
Buck glanced the kid's way and barely suppressed a sigh that did nothing to hide his amusement. "I've seen it," he said. "I'll tell you the ending."
"Sit down," Chris said gruffly. He couldn't explain it, but in the same way he had never ever been able to walk a girl back to his bedroom in high school when his father was home, he couldn't just get up and follow Buck upstairs in front of JD. It made no sense to him, because he had no trouble walking downstairs minutes or hours later, sharing cereal and coffee with Buck and JD early the next morning in a bathrobe or boxer shorts, but it was what it was and Buck had long ago stopped fighting it.
He lifted his legs and frowned, then grinned when Buck dropped to the end of the sofa, and he stretched he his legs back over Buck's knees.
"I can't believe I have to see this fucking movie again," Buck muttered.
"Next time, call in," JD asided.
Yeah. That would have solved a slough of problems. He wondered what Vin would have to say, whether Buck had made a mess of things or just made a fool of himself. He wondered how long they'd be together before Buck accepted that Chris had no plans to bed anyone else ever again.
He wondered what he'd do if or when Buck strayed, because hell yes he knew the man as well as the man knew him, and no matter how much Buck loved him it seemed like asking for the moon to assume the leopard would change his spots so completely...
Chris was so lost in thought that only JD's groan snapped him out of it; Buck's face in profile grimaced JD's way, obviously ordering something. JD made a big show of grabbing the remote and stopping the movie. "I'm feelin' awful dirty all of a sudden," he said dryly, "I guess I'm gonna go grab a shower. See you later, Chris."
Buck barely waited for the bathroom door to close before dumping Chris' legs, and almost the rest of him, onto the floor. "Let's go."
"What," Chris asked, picking himself up off the floor, "you don't think that was a little obvious?" But before he could work up a head of steam over it, Buck stepped in close and manhandled him, pressing them together from chest to knee, and just held on tight.
"I don't care if it's obvious. I wish to God you'd stop worrying about the kid, then he wouldn't have to do shit like this for us."
"Can't help it," Chris admitted even as his arms slid of their own accord over broad shoulders. "It still reminds me of sneaking away from my dad."
Buck snorted, the warm moist breath tickling Chris' throat. "Can I tell him that? He'll love it!"
Chris drew back far enough to make eye contact, and glared threateningly. "What do you think?"
"I think," Buck said, holding tightly to his hands as he backed toward the stairs, "that I'd be in the dog house until hell froze over if I did."
Chris veered to grab Buck's suitcase where it leaned against the sofa back, and his jacket. "You'd be right."
Buck turned at the spiral staircase and started climbing, and whatever Chris might have added was lost as Buck's ass appeared right at eye level, calling out to him. He smiled to himself and shook his head in wonder, thinking maybe he was getting as bad as Buck ever had been.
"You miss me?" Buck whispered after they closed the bedroom door.
"Yeah." He'd never had trouble admitting such things, not when they were younger and it meant less, and certainly not now. Problem was, both of them always answered such questions truthfully, and damned if that hadn't caused more than a few problems over their years. "The phone date helped," he added with a grin.
"Hell yes." The words were enthusiastic but low, tempered, and Buck reached for him before Chris had done more than heel out of his shoes. A deep-voiced hum, a purr of satisfaction, tickled his ear as Buck tucked in around him, and Chris melted into the embrace. Solid mass surrounded him, warmth at his hands as he pulled out his lover's shirt and slid his fingers around the soft, smooth skin, and strength he had grown to crave clutched hard at his ribs to hold him close.
Buck drew back then, and Chris reached up to cradle his lover's face, to hold him steady just for a second before drawing him nearer. Even after all this time the petal-softness of Buck's mouth could surprise him. So much about Buck's heart was soft and, on bad days Chris would say a little of Buck's head was too, but his body had always seemed hard, strong, and undeniably masculine. But Buck was soft too... gentle, like lovemaking was a miracle every single time he entered into the process.
Butterflies tickled inside his stomach and his chest expanded with feeling. He drew away before he said something mushy and reached to grab Buck's hands before they explored any further.
"It's good to be home," Buck said, his eyes sparkling like like diamonds now as he tried so hard not to smile like a kid.
"Took the words out of my mouth. Come on, tell me about your trip."
"Yeah, okay."
They shifted gears easily and settled together atop the bedspread, Chris leaning back propped up on pillows, Buck on his side propped up on Chris. Chris listened and laughed or groaned as Buck regaled him with tales of bureaucratic idiocy, sweet waitresses and a college student intern he'd taken out for a platonic dinner on Tuesday.
"Tuesday's when you called me for that little phone fuck," he huffed, mock angry.
"Chained to the porch and barking at cars," Buck said easily, then added with a low chuckle, "You'd have been proud of me, Chris. I was the perfect gentleman."
Chris was proud, actually, but something about the words reminded him of the ranch and the potential debacle waiting for him there. "How about at my place today, were you a gentleman then?"
Buck stiffened in his arms, said slowly, "I knew you were pissed."
"Easy, big fella," he soothed, and carded his fingers rhythmically through Buck's hair. "I'm not pissed." Not anymore. "I just want to know how big a pile of shit you've left for me to clean up."
"Well," Buck finally muttered, "Vin's gonna have a field day with it. I've never seen him laugh so hard."
Chris felt his belly tighten as he fought off a grin. "Yeah?"
"He fell on the floor, I shit you not."
This, Chris had to hear. "Go on."
So Buck told him the story of using his key, walking through the living room and running into a naked, aroused Vin in the front hall, of Vin snapping and telling Buck to leave, of Buck planting his feet like he was putting down roots and asking--politely, in Buck's retelling; Chris would have to see if Vin's story matched--what Vin was doing there.
"So then this pretty little filly trots out just as bare-assed, squeals, and dives back into your bedroom."
Chris, chuckling, asked, "And what did you do?" already half expecting the answer.
"What do you think I did? I said 'howdy ma'am, sorry 'bout that,' and tried to get a look."
Belly quivering with laughter now, Chris just rubbed Buck's shoulder to keep the story coming.
"She's pretty," Buck continued. "I thought maybe I'd seen her somewhere..."
"You probably have," Chris confirmed. "She's a legal secretary at the federal courthouse." A last ripple of laughter rolled through him as he settled further into the mattress and tugged Buck a little more tightly against his ribs. "Vin went to pick up a deposition he had to review and while he was there, he was hitting up an AUSA about the rights of landlords to throw out poor people who own pets."
Buck's nose, barely visible from this angle, scrunched up. "Huh?"
"Yeah. Some kid in his building had a cat and the landlord threatened eviction. Poor girl was in an alley crying her eyes out, getting ready to put this pretty little calico into a dumpster. So," he went on, Vin made her promise not to do anything until he'd talked to some people, and ran back upstairs to stash the cat at his place. Charlene Dixon was the first attorney he ran into that morning."
Laughter shook Buck's long frame. "Charlene? Poor thing."
"Yeah," he said, laughing again himself. "So the legal secretary, Barb, she sees Charlene trying to get away from this longhaired maniac and steps in. She used to work in the public defender's office, she knows Purgatory, and she promised to get him some answers. That was Monday."
"Damn," Buck whistled. "Five days, from a handshake to hitting the sheets? That ain't like Vin to work so fast."
"Yeah, well," Chris replied lightly, "this was their first sheet hitting, and if it's their last, jokes about you jumping to the wrong conclusion will be the least of your worries."
"Barb, huh?" Buck mused as a big hand seemed to work completely independently at Chris' belt buckle. "Barb what?"
Chris shrugged. "Some kind of flower last name, Lily, Daisy... I don't know. Ask Vin."
"Nah. I ought to send her a little apology. I'll call Charlene."
Chris ran out of things to say when Buck's hand hit pay dirt, sliding slowly and steadily past his opened zipper to cup his lax genitals. He sucked in his stomach. "You don't want to know how my week went?" he joked.
"Oh, absolutely." The hand squeezed gently, and one finger moved down to press between and separate his balls. "In a minute."
Chris eased a little lower in the bed and glanced toward the window. It wasn't even dark yet, not that he was one to stand on ceremony. When he'd been young, any time and every time a girl said yes was the right time. When he was married, any time they were alone and Sarah looked at him a certain way, and later, anytime Adam was asleep or with relatives was the right time. With Buck, he felt like his ass wasn't his own anymore, and that suited him just fine too.
Buck eased a little higher then and stretched across him, propping himself on one elbow to stare down with that sexually preoccupied look of love in his eyes. Yeah...
They took it easy, like they had all the time in the world, and cranked up the heat by slow degrees. Buck seemed preoccupied with kisses, trailing them over Chris' jaw and neck, nibbling along his collarbone and back up to his ear before presenting his own throat to Chris' mouth. And Chris was happy to oblige, drowning himself in the smell of a body as familiar to him as his own, in the sweet-salty flavor of Buck's skin. He picked his spot, low on Buck's throat where a button down shirt would hide it but a tee shirt wouldn't, and suckled slowly, bit gently while Buck hissed air and a tiny groan through his teeth.
He unbuttoned Buck's shirt while he worked, pushing the cloth over one shoulder but Buck refused to be trapped and shrugged it back up. A hand teased up his ribcage then, and even as his lover lay statue-still for his sucking mouth, fingers worked the buttons of his own shirt and finally, Buck drew away to spread the fabric apart like he was opening a Christmas present. Chris rolled then, propping up on his side so they could face each other, and just watched the varied expressions chase across Buck's face with every touch.
It was hard to concentrate, since Buck was doing the same thing back. A point arrived where he had to grip Buck's waist and hold on while he stared at Buck's wrist where it disappeared into his open fly...
"Hey, that reminds me," Chris said, a little short of breath.
Buck's fingers squeezed and swirled around the head of his hardened cock. "What does it remind you of?" he asked, sultry.
Chris grasped Buck's forearm and eased it out of his pants. "I got us something."
He retrieved his jacket from where it was draped over Buck' suitcase removed from the breast pocket of his jacket he pulled out a little tube, its label covered with masking tape, and tossed it to the bed. Buck grinned and unscrewed the cap, sniffed. Frowned. Licked. Smiled. "Watermelon."
"Yeah. I never saw that one before." Chris shucked off shirt and trousers while he was up, let Buck manhandle him into position on his back in the middle of the mattress, then went slowly insane as Buck squeezed out tiny dollops onto one nipple then the other, cleaning them with catlike concentration. Stray bits, Buck rubbed lightly onto his cock so that by the time Chris broke down and snatched the tube out of his lover's hand, his nipples felt raw and tight, and his cock felt like someone had been stroking it with feathers for hours; just a touch would make him explode.
"Bored?" Buck asked with a smile.
"Self-preservation," he shot back, the tension wound so high in him.
He proceeded to do a little lubing and licking of his own, but much further down, and reveled in the feel of Buck's fingers buried in his hair, how they gently clutched and released his head with each downward stroke. Buck seemed pretty tense himself, and Chris shook his hands off so he could raise his head and get a good look. Chest flushed and working like bellows, brows furrowed, mouth open, pupils dilated and eyes over-bright and filled with love, Buck was well past the boiling point.
Chris licked his lips, feeling the heat of that gaze sear him. "Fuck me later?" he entreated, needing it.
Buck's body stiffened and his cock jerked hard against Chris' palm. "Just try and stop me."
"All right then." And he dropped his head to Buck's cock, opened wide and sucked it in. Heavy thigh muscles shifted and tensed. Buck's stomach flattened tight and hard, and he thrust up, whimpered airlessly, and spilled, his tight-clenched muscles stretching climax unimaginably, wringing a torrent of pleasure that, like a flood tide, didn't seem like it would end anytime soon.
The size and shape in his mouth, the smell and taste that was purely Buck, and the heft of Buck's twitching cock in his hand all combined to undo him. Impatient or overwhelmed or just damned overexcited, Chris dropped his free hand to his groin and jerked himself, unwilling to wait for Buck to recover, unable to contain the need for one more second.
Minutes later, Chris slowly began to differentiate where Buck's skin ended and his own began... it was somewhere near the slick layer of fresh sweat, some point that was just that bit warmer for sharing the other's body heat. Hot and tired and temporarily sated, Chris nuzzled Buck's shoulder and observed lazily, "I didn't get the scream out of you that I usually do."
Buck smiled beatifically. "I couldn't breathe. Can't yell if I can't even breathe."
Chris smiled, and edged marginally closer. "I'll try to remember that."
They dozed through sunset, not talking really, just being, and only the sound of heavy sneakers pounding up the iron staircase forced Chris to lift his head.
A fist rapped on the door. "Hey, guys," JD hollered, "it's after eight."
"Door's open, JD," Buck called out, smirking Chris' way, and Chris couldn't help but stiffen and grab for the bedspread.
"Yeah, right," JD derided from the other side of the door. "No offense Chris, but the last thing I wanna see is my boss bare-assed in bed with my roommate."
"None taken," Chris shot back, "'cause your face is the last thing I want to see when I'm bare-assed in bed with your roommate."
Beside him, Buck chuckled. "You loosening up on me, Larabee?"
"Not a chance," he muttered.
"Hey listen," JD went on, oblivious, "I'm ordering Indian takeout. You guys hungry?"
Buck pressed Chris back and kissed him quickly but soundly. "Starved," he whispered, staring right at Chris.
Chris rolled his eyes. "Get me some of that lamb with the spinach, JD, with an order of Naan, okay? "
"Usual for me JD," Buck called out. "Thanks, kid."
"Sure. Half an hour."
Buck raised his eyebrows and slid a big palm wide and flat over Chris' belly. "Half an hour?" he repeated. "Plus at least five minutes for it to cool down enough to eat?"
Chris couldn't help it; the grin was infectious. "What have you got in mind?"
"Well, we could use a shower and I promised I'd fuck you later."
Chris snorted. "I meant later as in late, when we come back to bed to sleep. You couldn't get it up with a crane right now."
Buck slid over him and pinned him to the bed, and kissed him in such a way that all the oxygen evaporated from Chris' lungs. "I missed you," he said gently when he drew away.
Chris swallowed and sucked in a long, steadying breath. "Softie," he accused.
"I never denied it. Come on, get dressed."
Chris forced himself out of bed, grabbed a pair of his jeans and a tee shirt from the bottom drawer, and slid them on as Buck fished out sweat pants and an old UNLV sweatshirt.
"Answer me something, Chris," Buck started, and Chris frowned at the serious tone.
Shit. "What?"
"What happened to the cat?"
"What? The--oh. You didn't see it? Guess not. It's in the barn. Damned good mouser, too."
Buck grinned, showing all his teeth. "And you call me a softie. Well," he shrugged philosophically, "you getting a cat you didn't need without talking to me first--I suppose we could fight about that."
"You're looking for something to fight about?" Chris demanded.
"Bet your ass I am," Buck leered. "I'm still angling for that make-up sex."
The End
