Gabe’s back was to him. Hands on hips, staring at his little bookshelf as if it stored all the answers he needed.
Blaze held his breath and moved close. Close enough to put his hands on Gabe’s hips, over Gabe’s hands, to tuck himself along Gabe’s back. Gabe whirled around, dislodging Blaze’s hands, but making their bodies even closer, almost hip to hip.
Gabe opened his mouth, but Blaze placed his palm gently over that mouth.
“Wait,” he said. “You bought me dinner.”
Gabe’s deep blue eyes acknowledged that this was so, and he didn’t grab Blaze’s hand and pull it away. Blaze could feel Gabe’s soft breath on his skin.
“You touched my face and made me look up at the stars.”
Gabe, nodding, was still focused entirely on Blaze.
“And then,” Blaze couldn’t stop the bark of a laugh from surfacing. “You let me drive thetruck—all of which is just about a marriage proposal to an ex-con like me.”
Gabe laughed, a low quick laugh, but when Blaze drew his hand away, Gabe didn’t pull away or stop Blaze from moving closer. Didn’t seem worried that Blaze’s hand was on his hip, curving around denim-clad bone, that he was trapped between his cot and the bookshelf. That he either had to give in and let Blaze do what he wanted to do, or shove Blaze aside and flee.
The first touch of their lips was Blaze’s choice, pure and simple and, eyes half narrowed, he took Gabe’s face in his palms and kissed him fully. Then he paused, lessening the touch, but waiting. He needed ayesand maybe even ayes, please,before he went on, for if anyone knew what it was like to not want what was coming, it was Blaze.
Gabe lifted his chin. A greeting, an admission, ayes, please,in Blaze’s mind. He kissed Gabe again and then again, slowly, letting it linger, the touch of their lips, the exchange of breath and warmth.
“Yeah?” Blaze asked, wanting it confirmed out loud.
“Yeah.” Gabe’s voice was whisky warm, the taste of him edged with sharp sparks, luscious together, leaving Blaze wanting more.
The tent was not enormous, the cot where Gabe slept, a long, single mattress. Blaze stepped forward and Gabe stepped back, pulling Blaze with him as he sat down, Blaze straddling his hips, feeling the heat between them, the hard center of Gabe pushing up into him. He was dizzy, almost tipping forward, and Gabe caught him, holding him fast, burying his face against Blaze’s chest.
“It’s been a while,” said Gabe, muffled.
“It’s like riding a bike,” said Blaze, very assured of this. Then he barked a laugh. “Or in your case, a horse.”
He felt Gabe’s chuckle move through him, a warm buzz, those arms tight around his waist as Gabe leaned back on his bed and now Blaze could be fully on top of him, a knee on either side as he bent down, hands by Gabe’s face as Gabe scraped Blaze’s hair back, tucking it behind each ear.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” said Gabe, his expression tender, his blue eyes half lidded. Then he gripped Blaze’s hair and tugged him close, ever so gently.
Blaze closed his eyes and let himself be tugged and kissed and held, Gabe’s arms strong around his back, holding him.
If Gabe had unlatched the gates, giving permission, then Blaze flung those gates wide, opening his eyes to scrabble with Gabe’s snap-button shirt, pop, pop, pop, opening that shirt, revealing the old fashioned t-shirt beneath, what every cowboy wore, Blaze guessed.
He yanked that up, dragging it from the waist of Gabe’s blue jeans and belt, pulling till he could lean down and mouth the warm skin of Gabe’s belly, trailing sucking kisses behind as he went, scooting down till he was at the buckle of that belt, his hands on it, fingers at the ready.
“You don’t have to do that.”
Blaze looked up as Gabe reached down to touch Blaze’s chin.
“But I want to,” said Blaze, determined. “That’s why we’re here. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”
Though he could see the flicker in Gabe’s eyes that fun in the bedroom wasn’t exactly his style, Blaze made a mental note and kept going, undoing the button and the zipper, peeling back cloth till he got to skin, running a sweep of his closed lips down the dark track of hair. Tugging at the elastic waistband of what were, of course, tighty-whities. Bleach clean and almost brand new. Of course.
This was something Blaze loved doing, all the way down to the bone. In prison, he’d exchanged a few blow jobs, a bit of give and take, something to pass the time. But not in a long while had he kissed soft pink skin and not braced himself for a quick suck and swallow, no. This time, he wanted to go slow, to inhale Gabe’s scent, to linger in the warmth of him, stroking Gabe’s length, letting out a long breath as his body relaxed while Blaze hovered over Gabe and let the moment sink into him.
“You really don’t—” said Gabe, as if, perhaps, taking Blaze’s pause for hesitation.
“Hush, you,” said Blaze with a half growl. “Let a man linger why don’tcha.”
Gabe’s head fell back on the pillow as if he’d been defeated by hours of Blaze’s arguments and points of logical reasoning. Then Blaze did what he’d been wanting to do for a while now, he tugged on the elastic band of those briefs and kissed the rosy, damp head of Gabe’s cock, then pulled even more, framing that cock in his hands, leaving long kisses, licks with his tongue. Tangling a finger in a dark curl of hair. Tasting the warmth of Gabe’s body, stroking him, bringing him to full hardness, all the while, Gabe sighed, his belly trembling.
Blaze was trembling too, with holding himself so still, with the answering pulse in his own groin, the heat of desire, the sound of his licking in his ears. Gabe’s ragged breaths. The creak of the metal frame of the cot beneath both of their weights.
