Ammo and Enchiladas

by BA Tortuga

  “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”

  “You forgot full. Full of you.”

  “So fucking amazing. So perfect.” Lex couldn’t believe how good it was, him and Brant. He felt guilty, knowing that he had this while Travis had lost it, but it was what it was. He loved his friend, but he wasn’t giving up a good thing out of misplaced guilt. Especially not a good, naked thing that moaned like Brant.

  He moved, sliding, slipping in deep. Uhn.

  Jesus, his balls were heavy, swinging and bumping into Brant’s. Lex closed his eyes, then forced them open, wanting to see every bit of this. Every single bit.

  He reached out, hand wrapping around Brant’s shoulder as he slammed in deep.

  Brant arched up and back, clutching at the back of the couch. That was a gorgeous view—muscles working, skin flushed dark. Brant was like his high school wet dream, only so much better. So real and wondrous. And tight, Jesus Christ.

  All he could do was moan and thrust, giving Brant all he had. He wasn’t willing to go too hard and hurt that hip. Brant met him smack-dab in the middle, their bodies slapping together.

  God, he could do this all night and only last a moment.

  “Touch me, honey. I need.”

  “I will.” He reached down, found that rigid cock, and stroked it. “Jesus, baby. You’re dripping for me.”

  “I know.” Brant panted out the words. “I can’t stand it. I need to come so bad.”

  He pressed in deep, let his eyes close so he could focus. “Do it. Come on my cock, baby.”

  “Oh. Oh, fuck. Say that again.”

  Lex banged into Brant, putting his mouth to Brant’s ear. “Come. On. My. Cock.”

  The world came to life in the muscles around his prick, the trembling and milking enough to make his toes curl. Lex moaned, the sound shocking, loud, and he jerked, dancing for Brant. Seed sprayed over his hand, hot and thick and wet.

  Lex just lost it, sawing back and forth, thrusting half a dozen times before he came. He wanted Brant to feel every pulse of his orgasm.

  Brant’s answering moan made his eyes cross, made him cry out. Damn.

  “Nothing has ever felt this way, baby.” He barely got the words out, but he needed to say them. He kissed Brant’s shoulder, licking the sweat.

  Brant only nodded, back heaving against his chest.

  They needed to move, maybe to shower, something, but right now this was perfect. Right now he breathed in his lover and hummed with absolute joy.

  This was real.

  Chapter Sixteen

  FOR HAVING “nothing,” Lex sure had a lot of shit. Together they packed up two pickups, a U-Haul trailer, and his SUV, and that was after taking loads to the St. Vincent’s.

  Brant couldn’t imagine trying to move now. He had a metric fuckton of shit. More than Lex for sure. The man had a good many movies and books, but his collection of sheets and towels was pretty pitiful. And that TV was already in his back seat.

  Brant grinned a little at that. He was never going to turn down the idea of a bigger TV.

  “Jesus, you think all this shit will fit in your house, man?” Lex’s friend, Dusty, looked at him, a wicked grin on his face. “I mean, do you have a mansion?”

  “I don’t, but I can sell stuff that I need to.”

  “We’ll see what fits and what doesn’t,” he answered. “It’s going to be great.”

  Lex scowled at Dusty, who never dulled that bright smile.

  “Right. I know you. You’ll have posters hung everywhere,” Dusty shot back.

  “Hey! Maybe I can have a tiny man cave….”

  “You can have the third bedroom, honey.” No posters. Those things were awful.

  “I bet he only needs half of it, but it will smell like a gym.”

  Nate snorted, but when Dusty added, “And gun oil,” they all cracked up.

  That had never occurred to him, though. Having a cop in the house. Having a gun in the house. Did Lex have a gun safe?

  “Do you have a gun safe, honey?”

  “I do. It’s not a big one, but it doesn’t need to be. We can put it in a closet. Does that work for you?”

  “Yeah, that’s cool. I just didn’t know if we needed one.” He knew how to shoot a firearm, but that hadn’t been his job in the service, and he hadn’t shot one since.

  “We’ll see what the situation looks like. I have a regular sidearm and an ankle pistol. Do you have a firearm?”

  “I don’t, honey.” Part of him was all Christ, that’s hot, and part was freaking out a little bit.

  Lex winked, then ran a hand up and down his back. “You ready?”

  He shook himself mentally. He wanted this. “I am. We’ll have our bring-Lex-home caravan.”

  “Good deal.” Lex took a short kiss. “Holler if you need to stop.”

  “I will. It’s an easy drive. We might stop in T or C for coffee and a pee.”

  “I love T or C. Guys? You good?” Lex asked Dusty and Nate.

  “We’re ready. We’ll see you when we stop.” Nate looked almost giddy.

  “Got it.” Lex winked broadly at everyone. “Let’s do it.”

  Brant climbed into his car and started it up. This wasn’t how he’d expected to head home. He’d expected to be down, to be grumpy, not loaded to the gills and bringing Lex home. He couldn’t stop grinning, even as his nerves jittered.

  Brant wished Matty was here, to share this with, to tell him that it was going to be amazing. To tease him.

  He had a terrible little pang then, because every time he remembered Matty was gone, his chest hurt.

  “You are supposed to be here, man. You’re supposed to help me out, talk to me.”

  Matty never answered, which was good. Only crazy people in movies talked to ghosts. People who heard ghosts talk back were committed. He shook his head. This was a good thing. He wasn’t going to have it any other way.

  This was his good thing, dammit.

  Still, he’d like a little…. His phone rang, Bridey’s name popping up. Christ, Bridey was good at that.

  He hit the hands-free. “Hey, Bubba.”

  “Hey, you. What up?”

  “I—” How did he say this? How on earth did he admit that he was bringing a lover home?

  “You okay? I know you miss Matty.”

  “I do. Bad. I-I got something to tell you, man.” He opened his Coke, his head beginning to throb.

  “So tell me.” Bridey didn’t have a lot of patience for bullshit.

  “I met someone.” Three little words. So many were so fucking important. I met someone. I’m into him. He’s moving in. I love him.

  “No shit? Will I like him?”

  “Way to make it about you, Bri.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Tell me about him? Is he local? Is he a doctor?”

  “He’s a cop, and he was born and raised in the Burque, but he lives… lived… in Las Cruces.”

  “Lived?” Bridey’s voice sharpened. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’ve got his TV and all his clothes in the back of my SUV.”

  “Holy shit. Do Mom and Dad know?”

  “Nope.” He hadn’t not told them. He just hadn’t told them.

  “Huh. Well, thanks for the family trust,” Bridey teased.

  “I met him at Matty’s funeral. He’s Travis’s best friend. Is that gross?” He didn’t want to be gross.

  “Uh….” Bridey paused, and he saw his brother in his mind, chewing that lower lip. “Nah. Maybe ironic?”

  “Butthead.”

  “Uh-huh. Name?”

  “Alex Espana. Lex. He worked up in Albuquerque for a long time, and then he moved to Las Cruces.”

  “No shit? How long has he been a cop?”

  Brant paused. Did he know that? He wasn’t sure he’d ever asked. “Ten years or so.”

  “Wow. So he’s old, huh?”

  “He’s in his thirties, butthead, and he’s stacked to the ceiling.” Lex was so totally not old at all.

&n
bsp; “Oh, nice.” Bridey chuckled. “When do we meet him?”

  “Let me get him moved in.” God, meet them. Lex would explode. Boom.

  “Yeah, okay.” Bridey was rolling his eyes. He would bet money on it.

  “Maybe you should come first.” Ease Lex into it.

  “Sure. I mean, if you take me to Santa Fe.”

  “Fair enough. Maybe come for Balloon Fiesta?” That would be fun as hell and would give them some time to settle into routine.

  “Uh, bro? Your man’s going to be scarce then, I bet. So many tourists and all.”

  Dammit. Right. Whoa.

  “Uh. Well, come in late September, then. After Labor Day, not as hot. He ought to be settled in by then too.”

  “Uh-huh, and you’ll have time to get shit organized. I’ll come then.” His brother had a knack for reading his mind. Creepy little fuck.

  “Sounds great. I’d love to see you, man. How’s the ranch?”

  “Busy. We had a bumper crop of calves.” Bridey chuckled, so proud. “I’ll bring you some beef when I come. It’s about time I filled your freezer again.”

  “Y’all are too good to me.” The ranch provided the best beef, better than he could afford on a daily basis.

  “I know.” Bridey hooted, the sound so home it made him ache. He’d left home to serve, and then he’d left home permanently to be with Matty. Did that make him stupid? He didn’t think so. He had a life that was gaining new ground every day, one he couldn’t have in Texas. He did miss his people, though. And flat Texas nachos, though Lex was good at those.

  He had the mountains and his house, Ruidoso and Durango and Jemez right there. He loved Santa Fe and the Turquoise Trail and even the zoo in Albuquerque, which was like a retirement home for old zoo animals.

  “How about Momma’s llamas?” Momma changed what she was raising as often as she changed hair color.

  “She got tired of blowing out their coats. Now she’s raising mini donkeys.”

  “Oh, God. Are they cute as fuck?”

  “I haven’t sent pictures? Oh, God, bro, their ears!”

  “Send them! Do they have names?” Do they have a purpose?

  “They do. There are only six now. There might be more soon.” Bridey huffed out another laugh.

  “Oh Lord.” A pregnant mini donkey. He could just imagine.

  “Yeah. They’re something else. Those little hooves are sharp.”

  “Do they kick your widdle ankles, Bubba?”

  “Shut up,” Bridey muttered. “Anyway, seriously, you should call the ’rents.”

  “I will. Let me get all this shit settled with Lex, and I’ll call and confess all. I’ll even send pictures.” He heard Bridey open his mouth, and he hurried on. “And no. No dick pics. Don’t even ask.”

  “Damn. It was worth a try.” Bridey rumbled, this funny little sound so uniquely him. “Okay, I got to get back to work. Miss you, man.”

  “Miss you, Bubba. Talk at you later.” He hung up, feeling a little bit lighter in his soul.

  His brother was a great barometer, and while Bridey was surprised, he didn’t seem worried. This was a good thing.

  Now all he had to do was get them home and figure out how to get all this stuff in his house.

  Chapter Seventeen

  LEX GRINNED at Nate and Dusty, who were sitting on his couch, now ensconced in Brant’s living room, albeit behind Brant’s existing couch. “Anyone want another beer?”

  “Not me. I’m the man charged with getting us safely to the hotel, since Dusty drove us all the way here.”

  “Y’all don’t want to stay in the guest room?”

  “No offense, Brant, but I intend to turn Nate inside out, and y’all don’t need to hear that.” Dusty looked like the cat that was all about getting the cream.

  “Dusty is a stud,” Brant said, his voice teasing.

  “I am, and I will take another beer, thank you.”

  “You got it.” Lex rose, moving to grab a beer for Dusty, more pizza for him. “You want anything, baby?”

  Brantley was perched on a barstool, looking a little dazed and more than a little worn out. “A Coke, please?”

  “Sure.” He figured Brant needed sleep, but the guys needed to unwind and hang. He might have to send Brant off to bed at some point. After all, Brant had to be at work in the morning.

  Lex checked his watch. Not even eight. Oops. And where were the cats? “Honey, are the beasts still locked in the bathroom?”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t sure how the guys felt about them.”

  “Well, they’re thinking of getting a pet. You guys want to wait until in the morning to meet them?”

  “No. No, we want to see them. Are they friendly?”

  Brant snorted. “They’ve been known to be.”

  “Well, Mouse is… interested.” Lex chortled.

  “And Peaches and Cream are going to panic. Just be patient.” Brant opened the door and three hysterical cats hit the ground running.

  Lex watched in awe as they made laps, making this amazing racket.

  Then Mouse tackled him, claws out. Oh, Jesus. He knew better than to push or squeeze by now, so he supported that heavy body with one hand, rubbing ears with the other.

  “Holy shit. Is that a baby tiger?”

  Brant started howling with laughter, head thrown back.

  Dusty just stared, eyes wide. Nate was chuckling too, but Lex had to grit his teeth and have a battle of wills with the Maine coon. “I told you I’d be back, beast. Relax.”

  Mouse yowled at him, expressing his extreme displeasure.

  “Man, he’s got your number,” Nate murmured.

  “He does,” Brant agreed. “Mouse adores him.”

  “Ow.” Dusty stared down at Peaches, who had climbed above the cowboy boot to grab his knee. “What is she doing?”

  Lex stared too. Wow. “I have no idea. She usually hides.”

  “She’s saying hi. Just be gentle. She gets scared.” Brant was laughing at them.

  “Okay. Hey, pretty girl. You’re some fluffy stuff, huh?” Maybe Dusty sounded enough like Brant to put her at ease.

  Cream was in Brant’s arms, making herself tiny. That was more like what he knew and understood. He got Mouse up, head on his shoulder. “No biting, beast.”

  He began stroking Mouse’s back, humming softly.

  “He’s pondering your ear.” Nate jerked his chin at Mouse.

  “I have no doubt. He’s a biter.”

  “He’s a love,” Brant argued.

  “He’s amazing,” Lex countered. A love? Maybe not, but he adored the monster cat anyway. Who wouldn’t—smart, fierce, and utterly self-assured.

  “Cats. I always kinda thought they just went in the barn.” Dusty had Peaches, who’d scaled him like a tower, in his arms, and she was nuzzling his jaw and purring like a chainsaw. She’d warmed up to Lex pretty quick, but this was a minor miracle.

  Brant watched with a grin that was half-surprised and half-pleased. “Look at that. She thinks you’re a cat person, whether you do or not.”

  “I’m not not one,” Dusty said. “I just never thought on it.”

  “Well, she’s not up for adoption, but you can borrow her.”

  “I will.” Dusty hummed, petting, and Nate chuckled.

  “Damn,” Nate said. “Now we will have to get a pet.”

  “Could be worse.” Brant smiled wryly, Lex thought. “It could be a mini donkey.”

  “A what?” Nate’s eyes went wide.

  Dusty just cackled. “Oh, man. My mom wants one.”

  “I’ll give her my momma’s number,” Brant said. “She’s breeding them.”

  Dusty’s lip curled, the look absolutely evil. “That sounds great, buddy. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Brant winked. “You have brothers?”

  “How do you know?”

  “Oh man. A guy knows.”

  Lex snorted. “A Texan, you mean.”

  “Of course.” Brant waggled his eyebrows. �
�I mean, you have what? Thirty-eight brothers and sisters?”

  “Shut up.” Lex mock-scowled. “Cousins. I have two sisters.”

  “Forty?” Brant’s grin was fond, warm, and so fucking happy.

  “Maybe fifty.” That was Nate.

  “Get them, Mouse. They’re being mean to me.”

  Mouse yowled, shocking the living shit out of him, and they all stared.

  Lex hooted. “That’s it, buddy. You get me.”

  “He totally does. You have seduced my cat.” Brant didn’t look the slightest bit put out.

  He winked at Brant. “At the very least. I think I may have seduced more than the cat.”

  “Ew!” Nate waved a hand in front of his nose.

  Dusty, though, he applauded, the bastard totally into being seduced. “Good for you!”

  “Thank you. I would bow, but Mouse would dig in.” He had pizza somewhere.

  “I’ll give them some cat chow, but you’d better put him down first. He’ll tear you up when he jumps.”

  “Okay.” He set Mouse on the floor, getting a grumpy look for his trouble.

  “Come on, y’all. Kibbles.” Brant whistled the kitties up, and sure as shit, they scrambled like they were starving.

  Dusty actually looked hurt. “She deserted me.”

  “Kitty kibbles. All pets are food driven, you know?” Lex thought Dusty had to get that, given he grew up on a farm, but hey, who knew?

  “I get it. Hell, I’ve been known to desert Nate for chips and guac….”

  “He has.” Nate winked. “Queso.”

  “Oh yeah. That’s understandable.” He got it.

  “I heard that, butthead,” Brant called.

  “Yeah. But queso!” He found his pizza and was pleased to see no cat hair.

  “Butt queso?” Nate said. “Kinky!”

  “You are disgusting, man.” He had to say it.

  “That’s what happens when you hang out with medical people, honey.” Brant came in and sat with him this time, not on a barstool.

  He wrapped an arm around Brant, happy as a bug in a rug. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey. Welcome home.”

  Oh. Oh, that sounded…. So fucking good. Home. Not just to the Burque, but to Brant’s house. Where he could live.

  “Thank you, baby. I’ll get this sofa out of here tomorrow.” This living room wasn’t big enough for two couches.