by Jake Mactire
“There you go again, runnin’ around in just your long johns. Anyway, good mornin’! How’d you sleep?”
“Like a log. And how about you, buddy, how did you sleep?”
“Great. So bacon, eggs, and sourdough pancakes suit ya?”
“Sure does, that’s really nice of ya. You didn’t have to go through that trouble.”
“Ain’t no trouble. Besides, you made me breakfast a couple of times, and I wanna show you I can cook too. Plus I get to watch you sit around in your underwear, so I got an ulterior motive.” I laughed now. I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, and Mike liked to look, so I thought I’d make it worth his while. I sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and leaned back so it was on two legs. I put my hands behind my head and spread my legs wide apart. He turned around to say something, saw me, and his words got caught in his throat. He finally managed to stutter out, “God damn, Jeff, you are one handsome man.”
He picked up steam and added, “Anyway, breakfast is gonna cost ya. You said gay guys hug a lot. Gimme a hug.” I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. I nuzzled his beard and hair. He hadn’t showered this morning, but he smelled nice, like clean fresh sweat. He smelled like Mike. His hair and beard were soft on my lips and nose. I could feel the muscles in his back and chest. I also felt the blood starting to rush below the belt and gave him a squeeze and let go. From the front of his jeans, he was having the same reaction as me.
“Well, you got your hug,” I said as I sat down and pulled my chair up to the table. “So do I get breakfast now?” He poured a mug of coffee for me and set it in front of me.
“You can have anything you want, big boy. For breakfast I mean.” I wanted Mike bad. Part of me was ready to grab him, throw him over my shoulder, and carry him upstairs to my bedroom. Another part of me was thinking let’s make sure we got a good basis of friendship first. Sex too soon can change things for the worse. It was also in the back of my mind I might be on the rebound from Robert. Truth be told, that hadn’t been much of a relationship for a while. I knew if I did pick Mike up and take him upstairs, he sure as hell wouldn’t put up much of a fight, if any at all. We were staring at each other, and any fool could see the longing between us.
I finally said, “Buddy, give me some time okay? You’re just incredible. I just gotta get my head on straight. I’ll be here.”
“I ain’t goin’ nowheres. Now how about breakfast?” He dished up a couple of eggs, some bacon, and three large flapjacks on a plate for me. He’d put ketchup, Tabasco, butter, and maple syrup on the table. I waited until he fixed himself a plate and raised my coffee cup at him.
“Here’s to the chef, my best buddy.”
He beamed at me and answered, “Cheers.” I dug into the food. Like his son of a bitch stew, his breakfast was really good.
“This is delicious! You got me impressed again!”
“Thanks. See, for a dumb hayseed, I can cook.”
“Mike, get off of it. You ain’t no dumb hayseed. You’re a smart, friendly, good-hearted, handsome as hell man. And a real man to boot.”
“Thanks. You keep tellin’ me that, and I just might start believin’ ya.”
“I don’t lie, buddy. So did you see what needs to be done on the corral still?”
“Since they got the day off, José and Josh headed down to Wenatchee. They got the corral pretty much done. They just left us the two gates to fix. It shouldn’t take the two of us more than an hour.”
“Good, you still up for throwin’ a football around?”
“Sounds like fun.”
“I’m gonna work out after that. You can join me if you want. And then if ya don’t mind, let’s put our heads together. We can look on the Internet to see if we can find out about any other cattle rustlins in north-central Washington. I wanna follow-up on the idea we talked about yesterday.”
“Sounds good to me. How ’bout you go get dressed, and I’ll rinse off the dishes here and put ’em in the dishwasher?”
“Okay,” I said and bounded up the stairs. I pulled on a pair of jeans and an old work shirt. It was cold out, so I put on a fleece-lined denim vest. By the time I headed downstairs, Mike had the kitchen cleaned up and a jacket on. We pulled on our boots and headed out to the corral. All that really needed to be done was fix the two gates, oil the hinges well, and make sure everything was in pretty good working order. Mike was right; it took the two of us just a little over an hour. We then walked around the corral and holding pens. Everything looked shipshape. We were ready for the roundup.
“When we gonna round up the cattle Jeff?”
“I figure end of next week or early the week after. We just gotta herd ’em down here. Trucks come and pick ’em up. Dad had gotten the ranch certified organic, and since the beeves are free range, we can call ’em grass fed. They should fetch a good price.”
“You keep some for yourself don’t ya?”
“Yeah, I’ll cull out a couple of head to take to the butcher in Twisp. I wanna make sure the freezer is full. I’ll head off to Okanogan to get a couple of fifty pound sacks of spuds, some onions, and garlic. I should be able to get some beans and stuff there too. Aside from makin’ sure the freezer is full, I wanna stock up on stuff. If the winter is bad, it might be that sometimes we can’t get out for supplies due to the roads bein’ bad.”
“That’s smart, Jeff. Ya know, the guys head to Wenatchee a lot during the winter. I guess Josh even stays there most of the time. You don’t mind if you and me have dinner once in a while and play cards or some sort of board game or whatever?”
“Hell, Mike, I told you, you’re my best buddy. I’m countin’ on it.”
“Good, ’cause I like havin’ a friend. Now I seem to recall you said somethin’ about throwin’ a football around?”
“Yep, I did. You gotta change or anything?”
“I reckon I could change my shoes. It ain’t fun runnin’ in boots.”
“Great, that sounds like a plan. I’ll meet ya on the front lawn in about ten minutes.”
We headed our own ways, me up to the ranch house, Mike down to the bunkhouse. Once in the mudroom, I kicked off my boots and got a pair of athletic shoes. The day had warmed up a bit, so I doffed my vest and work shirt and got a pull over rugby shirt. A thought hit me. Dad had a wooden hot tub put in on the back deck. I headed out and checked in on it. The heat was set on low, and the water was circulating slowly, just enough to keep it from freezing. Dad hadn’t liked the chlorine stench of most hot tubs and swimming pools, so he had an ozone water filter installed. I turned the hot tub on and set the temperature for one-hundred-five—nice and toasty. I headed to the shed in back of the house and got out a football. All my athletic equipment was there. I headed out the door to find Mike already out on the lawn stretching out. I joined him. I was really looking forward to some exercise and sports play.
“Wanna just toss the ball around for a bit to get warmed up?” I asked Mike.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said while running backward in prep for a catch. I tossed the ball, and he made a good catch. He continued running back and then threw the ball at me. I had to jump for it, but caught it on a dive.
“Good catch there, Jeff!”
“Thanks! I guess I ain’t lost my touch yet. Not bad for an old man of twenty-eight is it?”
“You’re twenty-eight? I’m just twenty-four! When’s your birthday?”
“April eleventh.”
“Mine is September second.” I ran back a bit and threw the ball a bit wide. Mike dived for it and got it.
“You ain’t half bad yourself.” We continued throwing the ball around for about an hour. The throws had gotten wilder, and the catches more spectacular. We were both having a great time. Or I knew I was anyway, and from the grin on Mike’s face, I was pretty sure he was too.
“Hey, buddy, we’re warmed up now; want to have a bit of a game? Touch, not tackle.”
“Sounds like fun, Jeff. We seem to be pretty evenly matched.” We used the fou
r lawn chairs, which were off to the side, to mark two goals. Then we did rock, paper, scissors to see who had the ball first. I did paper and Mike did rock. So I had the ball first.
“Prepare to get your ass whipped!” I teased Mike.
“In your dreams!” Mike grinned back at me and went back to pass me the ball to run with. I stood at my own goal line and began to run forward. He threw a good pass, right to me. I caught it and began to run. He was coming straight at me, so I looked to the left and zagged right. He reached toward me and missed by a fraction of an inch. I pulled further to the left. He moved to head me off, so I stopped, took a couple of backward steps and headed right. I was able to get enough distance between us so I could run straight through the goal. I threw the ball down and did a little dance. Mike was laughing and headed up to me.
“Okay, now that I lulled ya into a sense of false security prepare to get your ass creamed!”
“Really?” I grinned back at him. “And just who is gonna cream it?”
“Your best buddy, Jeffy, me!”
“Actually, that sounds like it could be fun!” I saw I threw him for a loop with that one. “As far as football though, in your dreams. And the score is one to nuthin’.” I ran back to pass the ball to Mike and give him a chance to run with it. We played for about two hours. We’d both made some spectacular catches and goals, and both fumbled and gotten tagged. The score was fourteen to fourteen. We were joshing each other all along and having a great time. It was Mike’s turn to run with the ball. I threw a high pass to him, and he caught it about five feet in front of his goal line. He began a long easy lope down the field. I matched his stride, and when we were about fifteen feet or so apart, I could see he was thinking on how best to dodge past me. There was a lot more room on my left side of the field than there was on my right. I figured he was going to feint left and run right, thinking I would reckon, he’d stay where there was more room to maneuver. He did just what I thought he’d do. He feinted left, and ran right. I moved immediately to the right and headed straight for him. We were both running full out now. Rather than just tag him, I put out my arms, grabbed his, and tackled him full on. We both flew through the air. The football went flying, and Mike swallowed his gum. We landed with him on his back and me on top of him. My hands were around his wrists holding them down on the ground on either side of his head and our legs were all tangled up.
“What in the hell are ya doin’, Jeff? We’re playin’ touch football. I oughta get an extra point for that move!” He was trying to push my arms away, but I had leverage.
“Shut up, buddy.” I lowered my mouth to his. As I went in for the kiss, his eyes widened and then he seemed to melt. He picked his head up and met me halfway. I stuck my tongue in his mouth and gently dueled with his tongue. He tasted good, like peppermint from the gum he’d been chewing and something else indefinable, something raw and masculine. He stopped struggling and I let his wrists go. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and we continued to kiss. He still smelled good, sweaty but clean. I caught a hint of something perfumed, like the lightest of colognes or maybe the residue of soap or shampoo. Underlying that was the musky scent of an aroused man. It could have been ten seconds, or it could have been ten minutes when we pulled apart a bit. I rolled to the side and sat up. Mike pushed himself up so he was sitting facing me. We looked at each other, and he was the first to speak.
“Wow, that was incredible. First time I ever kissed a guy. I had no idea it was so fantastic.” Mike had this big grin on his face as he confided that was his first kiss.
“Yeah, that was extremely nice. Uh… you know, if I was outta line there, I’m sorry. I don’t really know why I did that.”
“You wanted to though didn’t ya?”
“Hell yeah, hell yeah!”
“You weren’t outta line. I’ve been wantin’ to kiss ya myself.” He hesitated a bit and looked at the ground as he continued, “So, Jeff… where do we go from here… what’s up?” He looked like he was afraid of what he’d hear next. I took hold of his hand and held it. It was a working man’s hand, rough and callused. I smiled at him.
“Let me tell ya what’s goin’ through my mind. I like you. I like you lots. I know that I’m happy when I’m with you, and I just can’t stop grinnin’. I’ll be honest though, I’m a bit confused. My dad was hit head-on in his truck and died a little over two weeks ago. I broke up with my boyfriend a couple of days ago. A ranch hand I really liked got shot a week ago. We’ve been hit by rustlers several times. I’m worried the ranch isn’t gonna break even this year. I wanna kiss you again. I wanna pick you up, carry you into the ranch house, up to my bed, and fuck you silly. I want to show you just how good it can be with two guys. But I’ve seen too many guys hop in the sack right away and fall in lust, or in infatuation. When the sex cools off a bit after a year, they find they don’t have nothing in common. You’re too good for that. And you deserve better. I wanna keep gettin’ to know ya. The more I know ya, the more I respect and like ya. And I don’t wanna do anything to fuck that up.” Mike gazed at me for a few minutes. Then he took his other hand and placed it on top of mine.
“You’re a good man, Jeffy, a sharp one too. Like I said earlier, I ain’t goin’ nowheres. But I do have one thing to ask ya.”
“What’s that?”
“You think we might be able to kiss like that again, once in a while?” He had a sheepish kind of a grin, but his eyes were determined. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, we can. That was awful sweet and kinda special. So don’t worry, we’ll do it again.” He continued grinning at me, and I grinned back.
“Now let’s head up to the ranch house for lunch. Ham sandwich and chips okay by you?”
“Sure.” We headed up to the ranch house, both happy. We couldn’t stop grinning at each other. I felt happy, optimistic, and eager to see what this might bring. I reckoned Mike felt the same way.
We sat on the porch in the front of the house. Each one of us had a plate with a hefty ham sandwich on good thick rye bread from the bakery in Winslett. On a little table between us sat an open bag of Cascade potato chips and a couple of cokes. The day had warmed up a bit, but still had a chill to it. I figured it had to be in the low fifties. The sun was out though, and the afternoon had kind of a golden tinge to it. I could smell pine and fresh cut hay. There wasn’t much traffic on the road, so it was quiet, and then Mike broke the silence, his voice soft and quiet.
“Look off to the left next to them trees about five yards back from the road; that buck must be an eight point.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty big, couple of does and yearling fawns off in the trees too.”
“I see ’em. You said you like to hunt?”
“I do. For me, it’s more bein’ out in the woods and in nature than the killin’. I won’t say no to a freezer full of venison though.”
“So, let’s go huntin’ next month when the season opens,” Mike said.
“You got it, buddy!” I leaned forward and took a bite of my sandwich.
“Ya know, Jeff, this is the most beautiful place I ever lived. Even though I been here a couple of years, I still love the view.”
“I know right where you’re comin’ from. I grew up here, but drivin’ from the high Cascades down into the valley still takes my breath away.”
“Your dad was always tellin’ me what a great guy you were, and what a good son, and how proud he was of you. You think he’d be happy we’re friends?” I really wasn’t sure where that question came from, but I did know Dad well enough to answer it.
“Yeah, Mike, I think he’d be real happy for us both.”
“Even if he saw us kissin’ like after when you tackled me?” I understood then where he was coming from and why he asked.
“You mean would Dad accept you, me, and the way we seem to be headed?”
“Yeah.”
“Hell, buddy, if he came outta the house and saw us kissin’ like that, he either woulda turned right around, pretende
d he didn’t see us, and give us privacy, or he woulda told us to get a room and practice safe sex. He’d just want us to be happy and not get hurt.”
“You’re lucky to have had a dad like that.”
“I’m also lucky in the friends I got too.” Mike was quiet for a few minutes and then changed the subject.
“So what are you up to tomorrow?”
“Mary Grace from the artists’ co-op in Winslett is comin’ out here. She wants to take a bunch of pictures of me, my art, and the ranch. She’s plannin’ to do a showin’ of my work around the holidays. Maybe you can hang around if ya got nothin’ goin’ on. Two cowboys are always better than one to attract some tourists.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to help.” The deer we’d been watching earlier had moved out into the field in the front of the house. They were all happily grazing away. We sat and watched them for a while in silence.
When lunch had settled a bit, I asked Mike, “You still up for workin’ out?”
“Yeah, gotta change first though.”
“Me too; workout equipment is in the heated garage off to the side of the house. I can meet ya there in a few minutes.”
“I know where it is. Your dad used to let me work out there.”
“Great! See you in a few.”
I picked up the plates and cups and chip bag from lunch and dropped them off in the kitchen on my way upstairs. I quickly changed into workout shorts and a tank top and went to the garage where I kept my equipment. I had a full set of weights, dumbbells and barbells, as well as a cross country ski machine, a rowing machine, and a solo flex type machine. I had just gotten there, and Mike showed up in workout shorts and a T-shirt.