Rain and Whiskey

by BA Tortuga

  Galen bucked, hips rolling, and went down on him, all the way. Those hands spread him, opened him, one finger working into him as Galen licked and sucked. He whimpered, sucking harder, head bobbing. Galen’s balls were soft and heavy, rolling in his fingers. Humming around him, Galen pressed deeper, opening him right up. Galen was leaking hard, the taste salty and bitter, hot as hell.

  Fuck, he needed. He pushed down farther, finding a rhythm, both of them shifting and rocking. He could feel Galen’s balls drawing up, could hear the rumbling growl in Galen’s chest. Galen was sucking strongly, no teasing, no playing. Just killing him with pleasure. Galen’s hips got pulled in deep, Shane swallowing hard, needing. That was all it took. Galen cried out around him and shot, pumping into him in short, sharp bursts.

  He followed right along, moaning and shifting, still sucking through Galen’s aftershocks as he came. Galen kept licking and touching, nuzzling his balls, until they both relaxed, their breath settling. Then Galen hauled up on the bed, rubbing against him all the way up, bending for a kiss. “I like the bed. I think I like it better than the one in New Orleans.”

  He chuckled, pulled Galen in for a snuggle. “It’s cozy.”

  “It is. Of course, there’s no hot tub. And we need to run down to the store and get food.” Galen wrapped around him all octopus-like, so it didn’t look like they were going anywhere for a bit.

  “Oh, that sounds fun. Ho Hos and hot chocolate all around.”

  “Oh, yeah. That sounds good.” Galen’s hands were smoothing all over him, riding up and down his back, nice and easy. “And eggs and biscuits.”

  “And Christmas cookies and good whiskey and pancake stuff too.” God, this felt good, lazy.

  “Oh, and maple syrup! We should be able to get the really real thing up here.” Felt good to feel Galen laugh under his ear too.

  “Is it much different?” He leaned in, cuddled. “We should buy fudge and a ham.”

  “Oh, it’s so much better fresh, and a lot different than cane. And potatoes and rolls and maybe see if there’s a bakery that would make us a pie.”

  “Mmm. Pie is good.” He chuckled. “And whipped cream in a can. We’ll make frosted Galen.”

  Galen bit him. “I’d rather have Shane with cherries on top.”

  “I haven’t had a cherry in a while, Mr. Frost.”

  “No. And I may be on top, but I’m hardly one either.” Galen chuckled, the sound relaxed and happy.

  He started laughing, tickled deep down, new chuckles starting whenever the old round died off. Yeah. That laughter warmed him through and through, almost as good as Galen heated him up on the outside. And, hell, he thought Galen was gonna bust something. When they finally wound down, his belly hurt, and Galen was wheezing.

  He leaned and took a kiss. “Gonna be a fucking great Christmas, Len.”

  “Hell, yes. Gonna be great.” They stayed there together, keeping warm and resting up for the next round. Or for getting groceries. Whichever came first.

  IT HAD snowed overnight, and the world outside was pristine, even their tracks from the shopping trip the day before filled in with fluffy white stuff. And even though he swore he’d never want to see snow again after Minnesota, Galen thought it was damned pretty. Pretty enough to bundle Shane into his first new winter coat in about six or seven years and haul him out to make a snowman.

  They could even have hot chocolate after.

  He wandered over to loom over Shane where he sat by the fire. “Hey you, come on and get your gear on. We’re going out.”

  Shane looked up at him, grinning wide. “We are? Where?”

  “Just outside.” He grabbed another log to go on the fire. That would keep it burning nice and hot for when they came back. “Get your boots and gloves and shit. We’re gonna play.”

  “Yeah? Cool.” Shane stood up, bustling and bouncing and eager as any kid. Except kids didn’t have asses like that. Not by a long shot. Galen grinned and pinched that ass, because he just couldn’t resist. Then he went and got his own boots and snow gear and suited up, because heck if he was used to it anymore either. He checked Shane out carefully too, before letting him outside. No way was frostbite ruining their vacation.

  Shane walked down into the snow, slipping a little, chuckling. “Wow. There’s a ton of it.”

  “Yeah. Near on to an elephant’s ass.” Galen waded over to the side of the cabin and started tromping around in a circle, packing the snow down a bit.

  Shane watched him for a minute, then started humming, looking, wandering. Slamming him right in the ass with a huge fucking snowball. Oh, the evil little shit. Galen stopped making a place for their snowman and started gathering up ammunition of his own, then fired off snowball after snowball.

  Shane had a fucking good arm, pegging him over and over, one line drive after another. He was gonna have bruises. He laughed, taking a snootful of snow as he did. Might as well make them even, because Shane was wearing enough of his bruises, wasn’t he?

  Finally Galen had enough, and he charged, taking some damned good hits for his trouble, but managing to tackle Shane and roll him over and over in the snow.

  Shane was gasping and laughing, snow all over, even on those heavy eyelashes. “There is no tackling in baseball, you know?”

  “This? Is war.” He licked the tip of Shane’s red nose. “Now are you gonna be civilized and help me make a snowman?”

  “Oh, yeah! We have to make two. Otherwise there will be a snowman jacking off and that’s just sad.”

  Snorting, Galen stood and grabbed Shane under the arms, hauled him up, and brushed him off. “That mean we need to make them anatomically correct?”

  Shane cackled, eyes dancing. “Snow balls?”

  Oh, that was too much. He got a handful of snow and shoved it right at Shane’s face, just hooting. Of course that led to snow in the collar, in the waistband, both of them panting and covered before the first snowman even got started.

  Fuck, that was cold. Galen grinned, shaking like a wet dog. Then he popped that fine ass again and found an undisturbed place to start rolling. Shane played alongside him, poking and teasing, making him laugh. They managed two snowmen with huge dicks, pointing at each other, and a snow alligator before he looked over at Shane and saw that smiling face looking more pale than red, and the shivers that rocked Shane’s body. Crap.

  “Come on, darlin’. Let’s let them have some privacy and go in a bit.”

  “I could u-use some cocoa.” Shane nodded, grinned at their sculptures. “Those? Are too cool for words.”

  “They are.” He took Shane’s gloved hand in his and started for the cabin. They’d have to get that broom right inside the door and brush off before they went in, and that took long enough that Galen was a little growly when they got in and got Shane in front of the fire, boots off and blanket on. “You want marshmallows?”

  “Whipped cream. You w-want help?” Shane was shivering, nose bright red, but that grin didn’t fade at all.

  All he could do was grin back, worry fading. “Not until your hands stop shaking, lizard boy.” He puttered around, making cocoa with milk, thank you, not water, putting cinnamon on his and whipped cream from the can on Shane’s. He put a lot on, as they had four cans.

  Shane wasn’t in front of the fire when he got back, but bending over the suitcase, a heavy sweater on, bare ass peeking.

  Oh, holy shit. He almost dropped the cocoa. “Jesus, give me a fucking heart attack when my hands are full, you tease.”

  “Huh?” Shane stood, turned, that sweater showing a hint of those pink balls. “I wanted my sweats. Ooooh… yummy.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was going to say too. Would you put some pants on before I come in mine?”

  Shane stuck out his tongue, bending again to get a pair of sweatpants. Galen actually heard himself whimper. But he didn’t dare set the cocoa down or he’d start something, and it would get cold, and he was still wearing wet pants….

  “Jesus.”

  �
��Nope. Just me.” Shane looked over at him, upside down, eyes twinkling. “You want a pair too?”

  “Yeah. Please.” He’d make Shane hold the cups while he changed. Yeah.

  “’Kay.” Shane tugged on his sweats, wiggling and bouncing and flopping around, then handed a pair over to him.

  “Here.” He thrust both cups at Shane, hissing as a little hot liquid slopped on his hand. Then he attacked his pants, struggling out of them. Yeah, some show he was giving. He’d never make tips at a strip bar.

  Shane licked at the whipped cream, tongue sliding, eyes watching him move. His cock jerked, and he pulled his sweats up, pushing his prick down so he could get the waistband up and take his cocoa. “Thanks, lover.”

  Shane stepped closer, one warm hand cupping his cock. “No problem.”

  “You’re still trying to kill me.” He grinned, sipping his drink, tasting chocolate and cinnamon.

  “Nope. Just warming.” Butter wouldn’t melt in that mouth. “I wouldn’t want it to freeze off….”

  “I was more worried about you, not me.” He nodded over toward the fire, going to sit. That was something he could get used to, sitting with Shane and watching the flames.

  Shane settled in close, sipping the cocoa, warm and relaxed against him. That was much better. Shane’s teeth weren’t chattering anymore, and Galen figured if he could flaunt and tease, nothing was gonna fall off. He waited until they’d both taken their last sip of the cocoa and set the cups aside before he pounced, bearing Shane down to the floor.

  “Oof.” Shane blinked, eyes wide. “Hi, Len.”

  “Hi.” He wiggled, getting comfy, getting his hand down Shane’s sweats to cop a feel. “You are a horrible flirt, darlin’.”

  “Oh, no. I?” Shane grinned, pushed toward his hand. “Am a damn fine flirt.”

  He laughed out loud, cupping Shane in his hand, squeezing a little. “Yeah. Well, I have to give you that.” Galen took a kiss, licking whipped cream off Shane’s lower lip.

  Shane opened right on up, all heat and chocolate and cream, cool hands sliding up under his sweater. He pressed in, tasting and kissing. And feeling. Oh, those hands might still be cold, but under the sweats, Shane was on fire, cock pressing into his hand, and that was damned fine.

  Little words pressed against his lips, all about loving and wanting and needing. All for him. So damned hot. He moved back, got Shane’s pants off, got his own pulled down. Fuck, the floor was cold. Galen grinned, yanked Shane up so Shane was straddling his lap. “Want you to ride me, lover.”

  “Oh, I can handle that, Mr. Frost.” Shane leaned down, nipped his lips, their cocks sliding together.

  He moaned, arching up, rubbing good and hard as he licked the bruise at Shane’s throat. “Good. Want.”

  Shane shifted down, mouth dropping over his prick like a ton of bricks, suction hot and wet and nowhere near enough as the fucking little tease got him revved and pulled back. “Had to get you slick.”

  “You horny little bastard. Get yourself ready too, yeah?” Oh, he wanted to see that. Had to. Shane sat up, the sweater caught on that bobbing prick. Then two fingers were sucked in that mouth, his lover not hesitating at all.

  Yeah. Oh, hell, yeah. He reached out and pushed that sweater up, going for that tight belly, that hot chest with its hard little nipples. God, Shane’s nipples made him crazed. He grinned. He sure hoped Shane would like the Christmas present he’d bought. He was looking forward to seeing it on.

  Shane twisted, those wet fingers pushing right in, the sight of that pretty mouth open and moaning hotter than fuck.

  “Oh, God, Shane.” He stroked Shane’s chest with one hand, his own cock with the other, getting his fingers good and wet before he did, just to keep ready for Shane. “Hurry.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, Len.” Shane shifted, slid, pushed himself right on down, taking it all.

  “Oh, Christ.” Yeah, that was it. Hot and tight, and so good his eyes rolled. Shane fit him so damned perfectly. Like the proverbial hand in glove. He bucked, muscles rippling as he pushed up and in.

  Shane gave it right up, moaning and bucking, riding him like he was a prize bull. They moved together, sweat starting to bead up as they warmed even more. Galen traced Shane’s muscles, his ribs, his face. God, he’d never loved anyone more, except maybe his momma, and that was so very different.

  Shane took his hand, held it to that damp cheek, then kissed his palm, the soft, sweet touch such a contrast to the motions of their bodies. Oh, fuck. Fuck, yeah. He was a goner. Galen arched and shook and called Shane’s name, hips rolling up as he came so hard he saw stars.

  He floated down, Shane hot and heavy on top of him, wet heat on his belly proving he wasn’t the only one sent to the moon. The floor under his ass was much warmer, the two of them generating enough heat to steam up the whole building. “Now that’s the way to warm up, darlin’.”

  “You got that shit straight, Len.” His prick was squeezed, Shane wiggling a touch. “Well, maybe not straight….”

  “Never that, lover.” He laughed, kissed Shane hard. “Nice and bent, and just for you.”

  “Thank God for favors large and small. Amen.” The words were light, but the tone—serious as a heart attack.

  “Amen, darlin’,” he said in return, just as serious. “Amen.”

  SHANE CRAWLED out of bed early—amazingly fucking early for him—so he could make coffee and look at the tree and the lights and the dying fire and the snow falling outside.

  Wow. It was… wow.

  It was real funny. Sometimes this whole thing—Galen and being a thing and making up and being happy—sometimes it was so big, it felt tiny, just a little word. And sometimes the littlest thing was huge.

  It was fucking weird.

  Cool, though, and he reckoned he’d keep it. The snow, though, that he’d keep for special occasions.

  “Hey.” Galen sounded sleep rough and morning blinky, but oh, he was warm as he slid over next to him and gave him a kiss. “You’re up early.”

  “Yeah. Christmas morning, you know? It’s snowing.” He leaned close, fingers sliding.

  “It is.” He got a wide, happy grin, and in a less manly man he’d call that a bounce. “Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

  “Merry Christmas, Mr. Frost.” He slid and shifted until he settled in Len’s lap, cuddling close. “Santa came, looks like.”

  There were presents. Lots of them, big and small. Galen held him close, nuzzling and chuckling. “Yeah. You could say that.”

  Fuck, it was sweet, Galen warm and close and wanting him. He just touched—face and hair and shoulders and chest.

  “Mmmm. Oh, lover. That’s nice.” Looked like Galen was thinking on the same lines. Slow and easy and simply feeling.

  “Yeah.” He nuzzled into Len’s neck, breathing in deep, a soft moan escaping him. Galen smelled like pine and wool and sleep. And felt so good under him. Galen was rubbing gently, just rocking, practically purring.

  He kissed the stubbled skin of Galen’s throat, tongue dragging over the little hairs that led to the softer beard. There was a little mole he found—he’d never seen, but he felt it now, kissed it. That made Galen chuckle and nip at him, not sharp, just in fun. Those big hands moved on him, up and down his back, squeezing his ass. “Man, this was what I asked Santa for.”

  “Warm, happy redneck?”

  “My warm, happy redneck.” Galen kissed him, tongue pressing into his mouth, tasting him deep and lazy. He cuddled in, hands cupping Len’s cheeks, the kiss going deeper and deeper. Galen moved them, pressing him back and down, big body covering his. “Want you.”

  “All yours.” He brought Galen’s hand to his heart, his nipple.

  “Oh!” Galen grinned, kissing him, then rolled off him and reached for something under the tree. Not exactly what he was looking for, but okay.

  He pushed up onto his elbow, arching an eyebrow. “Len?”

  “Here, you have to open this one.” Shoving a finely wrapped package at him, a
definite contrast to the lumpy ones still under the tree, Galen bounced again. Definitely a bounce.

  “Must be something good, to get you out of the bed.” He chuckled and winked, opening the pretty paper.

  There was a jeweler’s box underneath, and inside was a pretty gold chain, delicate-looking but deceptively strong, with clasps on both ends instead of a clasp and a ring.

  “Oh! Look at that!” He lifted it, the fire making it sparkle.

  Galen looked at him, smiling but with a lurking seriousness in those eyes. “You like it?”

  “It’s as precious as my granddaddy’s watch.” He let it slide through his fingers.

  “Oh.” He got another kiss, this one a little harder and a lot hotter. “Good.”

  “Uh-huh. Put it on me?” He held it out, blinking a little.

  “Sure.” Galen took hold of the chain, cradling it in his hands as if to warm it. Then each one of his nipples got a sharp tug to the ring, making them hard as anything before Galen clipped one end of the chain to the ring in the right one.

  Oh. Oh, wow. He took a sharp breath, the chain tugging a little. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” That voice. Oh, fuck that voice was like gravel. The other end of the chain clipped right onto his other ring, Galen sitting back to look.

  He shivered, the weight negligible but there.

  “Oh, fuck, Shane. So pretty.” Galen tugged it. Gently. Arching, he let his head roll back, electricity rolling through him. Galen growled, the sound rumbling right up under his balls, and tugged again. A little harder. “So damned fine.”

  His balls were tight as rocks, hips shifting, nipples tingling. That little chain pulled and tugged and shifted under Galen’s fingers, and Galen bent to blow warm air across his nipples, a sharp contrast to the cold room.

  Shane’s eyes fell closed, hips rocking in time with the tugs, the pulls. “Len. Sweet fuck.”

  “You’re so hot, lover. Can’t believe how you look.” Galen’s hot mouth moved on him, lips and tongue sliding over the rings and clasps before moving down over his belly to slip down on his cock. All he could do was whimper, entire body drowning in heat.