by Ariel Tachna
Jesse lost track of how long they sat that way in companionable silence. It wasn’t the lunch break they’d discussed, but Jesse found he didn’t mind. More than anything, it seemed Chris needed a friend right now, and Jesse was happy to oblige.
“I guess we should check on the rest of the huts,” Chris said eventually. “I sort of ruined our lunch break.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jesse said, catching Chris’s chin and kissing him. “Sex isn’t any fun if both people aren’t into it, and you obviously weren’t in the mood. We’ll have other chances.”
They finished restocking two more of the drover’s huts before Jesse declared they’d done all they could do for the day. He picked up the dirty blankets, ready to head back to the ute, when Chris pushed him against the door and kissed him wildly.
Jesse started to protest out of habit, but he had just declared it the end of the work day, other than driving back to the station for dinner. Chris hadn’t been in the mood earlier, but that had obviously changed, and Jesse realized he didn’t mind. He let the blankets fall to the ground and pulled Chris closer, one hand on Chris’s hip, the other cradling his head to take control of the kiss. The moment Chris realized Jesse was kissing him back, he relaxed, so Jesse spun them around, switching their places so Chris’s back was against the door, pinned in place by Jesse’s broader body. He released Chris’s lips to kiss his way across his cheek, the stubble scraping against his lips.
“It’ll be time to shave you again soon,” he murmured when he reached the delicate shell of Chris’s ear.
Chris hummed softly, a sound of assent or pleasure or both. Jesse didn’t care which it was at this point. It was enough to have Chris willing in his arms again. He parted the heavy jacket Chris was wearing so he could massage his chest through the thick work shirt. It wasn’t quite the same as skin on skin, but it would do for now. He’d save the rest for when they had more time, and maybe a bed. He spared a quick thought for the cots behind them, but if he started that now, they’d be late for dinner, and then there would be questions to answer. Instead he worked open the button on Chris’s jeans and peeled down the zipper, slipping a hand inside to stroke Chris’s burgeoning erection. Oh, yeah, Chris had sloughed off his bad mood from earlier.
Chris moaned as Jesse moved his hand up and down a few times, and Jesse reveled in the freedom to enjoy the sound rather than have to stifle it for fear of being overheard. He pulled back long enough to push Chris’s jeans and boxers off his hips, letting the hard shaft pop free. He kissed Chris once more before dropping to his knees and claiming his prize.
He heard a thunk above him, presumably Chris’s head hitting the door, but he didn’t stop, too focused on the hard cock in his mouth, the salty flavor that leaked from the tip, the musky smell of sweat and desire that radiated from Chris’s body. Of all the things Jesse loved about sex, this might be the one he loved the most, taking complete control of a man’s body and senses, leaving him incapable of doing anything except moaning and shivering and coming like there was no tomorrow. He’d argued with what’s-his-name about it once, the other man insisting it was better to be blown than to do the blowing, but Jesse disagreed. Oh, he’d never complain about someone sucking him off, but that was a passive pleasure. This was all about making his lover feel good, and Jesse found the little sounds and signs of Chris’s desire even more arousing than simply getting his rocks off.
Chris’s fingers found his scalp, rubbing through his buzzed hair. Jesse wondered for a moment if Chris would try to take control and fuck Jesse’s mouth, but he didn’t, seeming only to need the contact. Jesse stroked Chris’s hip, offering that tenderness in return.
“Oh, fuck, close,” Chris gasped above him.
Jesse pulled back, his hand taking the place of his mouth as he surged to his feet and captured Chris’s lips. He stroked Chris rapidly as he plundered Chris’s mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue.
Chris grunted into the kiss, his body seizing beneath Jesse’s hand. Jesse slowed the movement of his palm, easing Chris back down from the high. His own need growing demanding, he rutted against Chris’s thigh. If he’d been thinking ahead, he’d have moved to the other side because the angle made it hard for Chris to get his good hand between them to help Jesse along, but he realized he didn’t care as Chris pushed back against him, urging him on. Jesse buried his face in Chris’s neck as his climax hit him.
“Well, that’s going to make for an uncomfortable ride home,” Jesse muttered when he could speak again.
“Take your shorts off,” Chris suggested. “Commando has to be more comfortable than sticky.”
Chris was probably right, but that would mean undressing with Chris watching. He wouldn’t think twice if they were rushing for bed, but it felt somehow too intimate to undress in front of him.
“I’ll meet you at the ute,” Jesse said.
“And deprive me of the chance to stare at your arse?” Chris joked. “I don’t think so.”
Swallowing down the ridiculous surge of nerves, Jesse pulled off his boots and stepped out of his pants and briefs, pulling his jeans back on as quickly as he could. Chris’s appreciative stare did nothing for his composure.
“Why does this bother you?” Chris asked. “You weren’t complaining a minute ago or when I had your dick in my mouth a few days ago.”
“That’s sex,” Jesse said with a shrug. “Changing clothes in front of you is more intimate.”
“How do you figure that?”
“It’s not something you do when you’re just fooling around,” Jesse said. “You fuck, you get dressed, you go on. Changing clothes like that, it’s something you do with a lover.”
“Or with a friend,” Chris said. “I’ve stayed over with friends and didn’t think twice about changing with them in the room.”
“Are we friends?” Jesse asked.
“What else would you call it?” Chris replied.
Jesse wasn’t sure how to answer that question. They had known each other such a short time, had barely begun any kind of a relationship before the dynamic changed on them, but that was no more defined than the first days had been. “I guess we are friends,” he said with a slow smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever been friends with a guy I was sleeping with.”
Chris winked at him. “You haven’t slept with me yet.”
Jesse resolved to remedy that at the first opportunity. Maybe he could carry a condom tomorrow after all.
Thirteen
“A WOMBAT?” Caine asked when Jesse and Chris reported their discovery at dinner. “I’ve never seen a wombat before.”
Chris could practically see Macklin swallow a put-upon sigh. “You don’t particularly want to see one,” he said. “They can be dangerous, especially if they’re cornered, which this one is. Which hut was it in?”
Jesse told him.
“I’ll drive back out after dinner,” Macklin decided. “When it leaves to forage for the night, we’ll block whatever hole it used for an entrance so it can’t get back in, and then tomorrow, I’ll send someone to clean out its den.”
“I’ll go with you,” Caine said.
Chris chuckled as Macklin rolled his eyes. “It’s really a one-man job,” he said. “There’s no reason for both of us to stay up half the night. Someone has to be in charge of the shearing tomorrow.”
“And you really think I can do that?” Caine joked. “Put Neil in charge of the shearing tomorrow if we’re up too late for you to handle it.”
“We’ll finish the huts tomorrow unless you need us to do something different, boss,” Jesse said, grabbing Chris’s arm and pulling him away from the table.
Macklin didn’t answer, his focus completely on Caine.
“What?” Chris said when they were outside.
“I wasn’t about to stay and watch them get into it,” Jesse said. “There are some things I don’t need to see.”
“You’re no fun,” Chris said.
“That’s not what you thought ea
rlier today,” Jesse said with a wink.
Chris laughed, as Jesse had certainly intended, but he couldn’t deny the truth of the statement either. He’d had quite a lot of fun earlier in the day. He was tempted to kiss Jesse now to show him just how much fun, but while a quick glance revealed no one within his field of vision, he knew better than to think it would stay that way for long. The canteen door would swing open and someone would come outside, or someone would step out of the bunkhouse for a smoke or to check on the sheep still in the pens. He settled for elbowing Jesse with his good arm.
“See you in the morning?” Jesse said. “We still have half the huts to finish.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Chris replied.
Jesse’s smile changed from that teasing grin to something more shyly pleased, making Chris’s heart beat a little faster. He chided himself silently. They’d only known each other for a couple of weeks. He couldn’t fall for someone that fast, especially not with everything up in the air. Keeping his smile in place so he wouldn’t reveal his suddenly spinning thoughts, Chris waved good night and headed back to the station house.
He didn’t go inside, taking a seat on the porch again and hoping he’d have some time with his thoughts since Caine and Macklin were going out to deal with the wombat. He wondered if Macklin had, as Jesse insisted, known what he and Jesse had gotten up to that afternoon in the drover’s hut. He hoped not. He wasn’t embarrassed by it; he didn’t think they’d done anything wrong; it was private, and the thought of Macklin knowing, speculating even, rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe he and Jesse weren’t in the middle of some grand love affair. Maybe they weren’t meant to be together always the way Caine and Macklin were. Their time together was still special, and he didn’t want to share it.
The sound of one of the utes driving by drew his attention from his thoughts momentarily. He couldn’t help a smile when he saw two silhouettes in the cab as it headed out of the valley toward the hut where he and Jesse had found the wombat. He didn’t envy Caine and Macklin a night spent in a truck cab, but he did feel a small twinge of jealousy at the openness that allowed them to be together.
He had to remind himself that they were the boss and the foreman and that they had paid a price for being together that way. Neil had admitted they’d never had as many new jackaroos all at once as they had this season. While quite a few of the seasonal hands had chosen to return despite Caine and Macklin’s orientation, that many more had chosen not to return, a far higher turnover rate than usual. They weren’t short staffed, but they could have been. For Chris, the price would be different, but he had no doubt he’d have to pay one. He’d already paid once, not for being in a relationship, but simply for being different.
One good thing had come out of it. He had a place to live for both himself and Seth, and he had Jesse.
That made two good things. Maybe Jesse wasn’t “it” for Chris the way Caine was for Macklin—it was way too soon to be thinking that way, regardless of what might develop between them in the future—but Jesse was good for him. He made Chris laugh. He made Chris feel good. He listened when Chris needed to talk. Now if they could just find some time and privacy so he could fuck Chris when he needed release, everything would be damn near perfect.
The blow job in the hut had been phenomenal. Chris had gotten blow jobs before, but mostly back in school from guys who had no real idea what they were doing. They’d fumbled more than they’d sucked, and they’d always pulled off before Chris could come in their mouths.
Jesse knew what he was doing. Chris’s heart beat a little faster at the memory. Jesse had kept him there pinned against the wall, and Chris had felt taken, like Jesse had hijacked his brain and turned his body inside out. Chris had spent enough time on his knees in this bar and that to know what it felt like to give a blow job, but he’d always felt like the control rested with the man he was blowing. Not today. He hadn’t had any control over the encounter with Jesse, not from the moment Jesse’s mouth had closed around him. It had been all he could do to stay vertical and not beg Jesse to take him bare and dry.
He shifted on the chair, stretching his legs out to accommodate his sudden erection. He ought to go inside and get ready for bed. Even if jerking off left-handed was awkward, he’d be more comfortable in just his boxers than in his jeans. He wasn’t ready to go inside, though. The sun had set while he sat there, leaving the western horizon tinged in pink and orange while the clouds on the eastern horizon flashed with lightning. The sheep still waiting to be sheared baaed occasionally, a quiet, calming sound that carried to Chris on the light breeze. If the storm blew in overnight, the wind would undoubtedly pick up, rattling the windows of the station house, but for now it was calm.
He hoped the storm passed during the night. He didn’t want the weather to keep them from going out to the rest of the huts tomorrow. He’d actually felt like he was contributing something today instead of being a drag on the station. That would change once his cast came off, he hoped, but for the time being, he was pretty much the least productive person there, and he knew it, even if everyone had the tact not to mention it.
A burst of laughter drifted across the road from the bunkhouse, making Chris wish he had an excuse to join them. Maybe he’d talk to Jesse the next day and see what the other man thought about him hanging out there some in the evenings. If he was going to make a future out of working on Lang Downs, he’d need to get to know the others as well. He couldn’t always expect to work with Neil or Jesse, as much as he’d like to keep hanging out with them, Jesse especially. Expecting Neil to babysit him all the time wouldn’t be reasonable and while Jesse didn’t seem to mind Chris hanging around, once his arm healed up completely, Chris wouldn’t have the excuse of taking it easy to spend time with Jesse when he was working on the farm machinery. Chris would have his own tasks and responsibilities, and the sooner he could learn how to carry those out, the better off he’d be.
With a resolute nod, he rose from his seat and headed upstairs to bed. He’d spend tomorrow helping Jesse with the rest of the huts, and tomorrow night, he’d start getting better acquainted with everyone else.
“THE WEATHER report warned of storms today,” Macklin said at breakfast the next morning. “If it gets bad, come back down if you can or take refuge in one of the huts if you can’t. Radio in every hour and let us know where you are and what the weather is. We don’t want you taking chances or getting hurt. The huts don’t have to be finished today. They don’t have to be finished this week if the storms blow in and stay for a while.”
“Yes, sir,” Jesse said. He could feel the chill and dampness on the breeze, even down in the protected valley. They’d be glad of the heater in the ute today. “Did you get rid of the wombat last night?”
“Yes, but it came back, trying to get inside. Let’s give it a few days to give up before you clean out that cabin. No reason to do it more than once if the wombat manages to get back inside.”
Chris joined him at the ute, looking even younger and more vulnerable than usual wrapped up in a drizabone that looked two sizes too big for him.
“Oh, good, Caine found my old drizabone,” Macklin said. “I knew it had to be there somewhere. We’ll get one that fits you right when we go to Yass to get your cast removed. Jesse, you remember what I said out there. You’re experienced enough to make the call about coming back or waiting it out.”
Macklin strode off before Jesse could reply. The condom was burning a hole in his pocket as he contemplated the possibility of getting stuck in one of the huts with Chris for an indefinite period of time. God, he hoped Macklin didn’t guess or he’d lose his job for sure. He had to think about something else or he’d give them away.
“You have to go back to Yass to get your cast removed?” Jesse asked as they climbed in the ute and started back to the highlands.
“Apparently. Boorowa doesn’t have an X-ray facility, but Yass is only an hour farther away. It’s not like we have to drive to Melbourne.”
�
��That’s not what I was worried about,” Jesse said. “You were bashed in Yass.”
“I know,” Chris said, “but I don’t have to go back alone. Caine and Macklin said they’d stay with me if I wanted them to.”
“You don’t sound enthusiastic.”
“They already see me as a kid,” Chris explained. “If I can’t even handle getting my cast off by myself, how am I supposed to convince them I’m an adult?”
“It’s not the cast, though,” Jesse said. “It’s the fact that you were beaten nearly to death. I can go with you if you’d prefer. I don’t see you as a kid.”
“I… I think I’d like that,” Chris said. “It’s still a couple weeks off. The doctor said six to eight weeks. I don’t want to go twice so I’ll wait the full eight weeks before I go back. That’s only another month at this point. That way hopefully they’ll just cut the plaster off and let me go home.”
The light mist started as they crested the edge of the valley and drove north toward the huts they had not stocked the day before.
“Whenever you decide to go, just tell me and I’ll be there, even if I have to take a day or two off to do it,” Jesse insisted. “Remember what we said yesterday about being friends? Well, friends help each other out when they need it, and going back to Yass sounds like a time when you’d need it.”
The surprised expression on Chris’s face was too much for Jesse. He stopped the truck and tugged on Chris’s arm, pulling him into a kiss. He kept it light, tender rather than arousing, because despite the condom in his pocket, the cab of the ute was not where he wanted to be when they used it. The first time he got inside Chris—or vice versa, he wasn’t picky—he wanted to have the space and time to enjoy it. Chris wasn’t some random fuck Jesse had picked up at a bar. They were friends, and he found he liked it that way. He liked going back to his bunk last night and knowing he’d see Chris again, that they’d laugh and joke and work together, and that eventually they’d get around to getting each other off again.