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  “Yeah...” Chance watched until Lacey started dancing and they headed off, the horses ambling, the momma and foal unsaddled following them.

  “I hope I’m not cramping your style being here,” Sam said quietly. Chance hadn’t hand anyone over, friends or lovers in the time he’d been staying here. The man hadn’t gone out either.

  “My style? No. I’m sort of a homebody, you know? Play softball. Go play pool once or twice a year in the city.”

  “Okay. I just didn’t want to be making you miss out on. Well. You know.” And why exactly was he bringing this up? Not a good avenue to be wandering down.

  “I...” Chance looked over, uncomfortable, worried. “Yeah.”

  He frowned. “Well now, that’s twice in the last few minutes I’ve made you uncomfortable. Is it me, or that phone call’s got you on edge?”

  “No. It’s more that I’m not looking to get my ass kicked, yeah? I don’t make any trouble, Sam.”

  “You’ve lost me, Chance.” He wasn’t planning on kicking anyone’s ass.

  “Oh. Oh, shit. I...” Chance closed his eyes. “Sorry. I thought you were suggesting something. Sorry.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Chance? Did I step in shit somehow with asking about our arrangements? Look, if you don’t want me here, I can find somewhere else, I won’t take it personally.” What the hell?

  “Huh?” Chance stopped. “Okay. I’m obviously having a different conversation than you are. I thought you were poking to see if I was sort of uh... light in the loafers. I was trying not to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Light in the...” Suddenly the light bulb went off in his head. “Shit. No, I wasn’t poking. I mean. Are you?” Well this was a fucked up conversation if he’d ever had one. Of course he was a little invested in the answer now, too, wasn’t he?

  “You weren’t? Oh. Well, shit. This is deeply cracked.” Chance rubbed the back of his neck. “I should have more coffee before I’m social.”

  “I wasn’t but I am now.” He knew his gaydar wasn’t very damned good, but he was going to fucking turn it in if Chance played on the same side of the fence he did.

  “I thought the service was all don’t ask, don’t tell.”

  “True enough. Let’s go catch dinner.” He nudged Magpie, speeding her up. Chance didn’t want him to know, didn’t want to know about him -- that was a clear signal he could read. It was a shame though. Man was a tall long, cool drink of water that he would have enjoyed drinking.

  Chance didn’t say a word and they settled on the edge of the pond, both baiting their hooks and fishing like they would starve if they didn’t catch anything. Sam swallowed his sigh and raised his head to the sun. Just forget it old man and things’ll slide back to what they were. They had to because he liked it here. His bum knee liked it here.

  “It’s mighty peaceful out here, Sam.” Chance looked over.

  “It is,” he agreed. Nice and easy and comfortable.

  Chance kept fishing, kept stealing looks.

  He caught the man’s eye on one of them. “You got something to say to me, Chance?”

  “Yeah, I reckon. I... Nobody but Daddy knows. About me. I’d appreciate if you didn’t say nothing.”

  That stung a little. That Chance though he’d do that. Even if the man didn’t know him. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t rat out a fellow club member, Chance.”

  He watched his line.

  Chance blinked, almost dropped the fishing pole. “You? Really? But... you were in the army. Lucky said... Oh, God. You must think I’m a goddamned idjit. I was sitting here thinking you were fixin’ to go off about me being queer...”

  “Lucky said what? We were all queer hating assholes?” He nodded. You played one if you weren’t. It was the way you survived. “I suppose we come off that way. ‘Course I’m not in the service anymore. And you’ve been good to me. If I had a problem with it, I’d just leave.”

  “Okay, so I’m a paranoid asshole.” Chance sighed, dug two peaches out of a saddle bag. “I’m sorry, man. I was being a dork.”

  He gave Chance a wry grin. “We’re both a fine pair, sitting here for weeks utterly fucking oblivious.”

  He was tossed a peach. “Hey, I’m an old guy. Heading toward senility, even.”

  Sam snorted. “I’m older’n you cowboy, so careful how you bandy that word about.”

  “By nine months, yeah. Big deal.”

  He snorted again. “Older’s older -- nine years, nine months or nine minutes, right?” He remembered Chance working those nine minutes older than his twin into the conversation at some point.

  “Shit, if I look half as good in my jeans as you do in nine months? I’ll be a happy man.”

  “I don’t think your jeans would fit me, Chance.” He winked.

  There was that laugh, husky and bright all at once. “That would be real the Incredible Hulk-y, wouldn’t it?”

  He grinned and nodded, something easing inside him. The peace here hadn’t been shattered after all. He bit into his peach, feeling the juices flow down his chin.

  Chance cast his line out again, leaning back against some rocks, sucking the juice out of the peach. He took a long look, allowing himself to appreciate the view. Not that he was going to do anything about it, but it was nice to know if he was caught looking, he wouldn’t have to start explaining himself.

  “Oh, I got a bite!” Chance sat up, bobbing the line. “Come on, now. Take it.”

  He got the net and crouched by the water, waiting. The bobber went down and Chance’s line went taut. They worked together, got a good-sized catfish into the bucket. “Woo-hoo!”

  “All right, dinner.”

  They both re-baited their hooks and threw their lines back in, settling again.

  “Couple more of those and we got ourselves fried catfish.” Chance chuckled, stretching out. “Fried catfish and hushpuppies and ‘naner pudding.”

  “’Naner pudding?” Another one of Chance’s southern specialties, no doubt.

  “Banana pudding? Warm the first day, cold the next?”

  He started to chuckle, mind going from the place of weird to the gutter. “Is that what you call it here?”

  Chance looked over. “What else would you call it? Bananas, ‘nilla wafers, pudding...”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, I was tangenting.”

  “Tangen...” Those eyes went wide and Chance blushed a sweet, deep rose. “Oh! No. No, ‘naner pudding bananas are too soft for that. You’d need chocolate-covered ones...”

  He started to laugh, just tickled. Chance’s laugh joined with his, easy, relaxed. He smiled and went back to watching his line, occasionally watching Chance, dozing a little.

  They managed to catch six fish between them, cleaning them right there and packing them down. “We do good work, man.”

  “Yep.” They did. They worked real well together.

  Chance dug around, pulled out sandwiches, a thermos. “Hungry?” It always amazed him how Chance was always prepared with stuff like this and then he’d remember the diabetes and knew it was years of experience.

  “Thanks.”

  “No sweat. Turkey and provolone. Yum.” Chance started eating, tossing bits of bread for the fish now and again.

  He finished his sandwich and lay back again. “I do enjoy a lazy day -- though I wouldn’t want a steady diet of them.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. Relaxing’s only good when you’ve got something to relax from.”

  “Yep. Kids these days just don’t get that.”

  Chance nodded. “It’s definitely a different mindset, you got that right.”

  “Still I’m surprised there wasn’t any high-schooler looking for a summer job snapping up work at the feed store. Guess that was my luck.” Bastrop wasn’t the first place he’d been looking.

  “The FFA kid
s volunteer a lot, but the kids don’t want all the hours, not when they can drive half an hour and work in the mall near a bunch of other kids.”

  “They do seem to move in packs, don’t they?” God, had he ever been that young? He supposed he had been, but damn, he felt sometimes like he was from a different species.

  “Hell, yes. There’s no such thing as one kid.” Chance chuckled, swatted at a fly.

  “You realize we’re now officially old men?” He gave Chance a wink.

  “Oh, hell yes. I keep expecting my hair to fall out alongside my teeth.” He got another of those laughs, the sound filling the air.

  “I hope not, that would be a shame.” Damn, had he said that out loud?

  Chance gave him a grin and a wink. “Yeah, I agree. Still, we’re looking fine for old dudes. I mean, you take damned good care of yourself.”

  He shrugged. “Just do what’s habit.”

  “I’m more just lucky. I’m a natural beanpole.”

  He chuckled. He’d have called Chance a long, tall drink of water rather than a beanpole, but he supposed the analogy worked.

  “Man, when I get wealthy, I’m going to put a real life swimming pool in. Chlorine water and all.” Chance grinned. “Snake free, thank you.”

  “That mean it’s not safe to go for a dip with the fishes?”

  “I’ve never really tried. Never seen a snake in there, but by myself? That’s one hell of a chance to take.”

  “Well I’m here now if you’re hot and wanted to have a dip.” Not to mention he wouldn’t say no to the view that would result in.

  “Hmm.” Chance gave it a minute’s thought. “I think I might, just to say I had.”

  Chance stood, stripped off his shirt and belt, shucked the ancient jeans, leaving him in nothing but deep green boxer-briefs, hugging a good-sized package. Sam was surprised to see a dreamcatcher tattooed on one thin shoulder, the eagle feather trailing down Chance’s spine.

  “That’s a fine piece of work.” The man as well as the tattoo, though he’d keep that little tidbit to himself. He tried not to shift and make it too obvious he was starting to sport wood.

  “Thanks. It was my second. Lucky had one to match.” Chance waded into the water, slow and careful, the green of the shorts going black.

  “Your second? Where’s the first?” Now that? Might have been a leading question. It all depended on where the other one was at.

  “Hmm?” Chance turned to face him, pulled the waistband of the briefs down on the left side, exposing another feather, this one with strips of beaded leather disappearing into dark gold curls.

  Well hello, sailor. He swallowed hard. “Nice. There a significance?”

  The waistband was settled back into place. “My first lover was an art student and a Latoka Sioux Indian. He drew it for me.” Chance grinned. “I’m sure he had the symbology figured, but I was so scared of the sound of the tattoo gun, I didn’t listen.”

  He chuckled. “That’s a hell of a place to have your first one done. Why’d you and Lucky go with the dreamcatcher?”

  A beautiful striking man no doubt, that first lover. And talented. An old war horse like him hardly stood a chance, so he resolved himself to just watch and enjoy the view for as long as he was there.

  “Partially because I had the one and wanted to stay with the theme.” Chance waded deeper. “Mostly because Lucky was fixing to head to Saudi and he was scared, having nightmares. We got shitfaced the night before he shipped out and decided the tattoos would keep him safe, let him sleep.”

  He winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, it happens, I guess. I mean, he died doing what he loved. Lucky was a lifer. He loved the whole package.” Chance gave him a smile, and it didn’t look forced at all. “He’s in a good place now. I’ve done my mourning for him.”

  He nodded. It was a good attitude, one the family of a lifer needed. He’d been a lifer himself, the early discharge due to the bum knee that just wouldn’t heal up enough for him to be of use to anyone. He almost envied Lucky.

  “You probably would’ve liked Lucky, although I’d have had to point him out to you. It’s funny -- we’re identical twins, but he wasn’t diabetic, so he was bigger than me by damned near eighty pounds. Strong.” Chance gathered the water up in his hands, poured it over himself. It was like a god-damned porno and he had to spread his legs where he sat, giving his cock more room.

  Sounded like Chance was more his type than Lucky. A muscleman was nice to look at, but he liked ‘em long and lean, like Chance, when it came to actually making out.

  The sun caught the water as it ran, catching in the hollows of Chance’s collarbones, the indentation of Chance’s navel. He bit back his groan, hand twitching to head for his cock.

  “Damn, the water feels fine. You want me to come out, give you a shot?”

  He was torn between getting in and letting his overeager cock cool down and not wanting to put on the show stripping would give Chance. “Nah, I’m good.”

  Chance shrugged and waded in deeper, the dark cotton clinging to the tight little ass, leaving nothing to his imagination. Oh, now there were his fantasies for the next month, easy.

  He did let his hand stray this time, trying to casually adjust himself. Not so easy when he sporting a raging hard on. Chance turned about the time he did, eyes flicking to the motion of his hand. Chance’s gaze lingered for a second, tongue sliding out to lick his lips, then the man blushed and ducked under the water.

  Damn, he wanted a piece of that. A great big piece.

  Sam made sure that by the time Chance came back up he was busy with their poles, working on imaginary tangles. Chance slowly made his way up to the bank, grabbing the long muscle shirt before stripping off the briefs and sliding on the jeans.

  Not before he got a look at that long cock, though, full and heavy. His fingers curled into fists. Damn. He needed a fucking cold shower.

  “You...” There was that huskiness from this morning again, low and rough. “You ready to go in?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.” His own voice was husky and he couldn’t meet Chance’s eyes, so he whistled up Magpie, looking around for her.

  Lacey came up and Chance got her saddle bags settled, then swung up into the saddle, denim tearing just a little in the seat. Now what kind of sense of humor did the man upstairs have to be torturing him like this?

  He almost went for it, but he wasn’t exactly a great catch, down on his luck, bum knee and all and if Chance wasn’t really interested it would make things really awkward.

  He got up on Magpie and nodded to Chance, letting the man lead the way. Might as well go for the full torture package and watch that ass in the saddle.

  Chance moved in the saddle like a wet dream, hips shifting constantly. “What’d you do to your leg, Sam? You hurt it in the army?”

  “Yep. Twisted it up pretty good running through the sand and as we were kind of running for our lives, I didn’t get it looked at right away.” He shrugged. “I finished my tour in the Gulf, managed to get some physio done on it, which kept me going until about two years ago. I was only a coupla years shy of my twenty, but I got an honorable. Sometimes you just have to admit you can’t do what you used to.”

  “Damn. You get disability for it?”

  “Yep, about enough for smokes if I smoked.” Or coffee and a donut every day which was what he’d survived on when he’d first gotten out.

  “That sucks. Still, you look like you were managing just fine this morning, yeah? So maybe the Texas sun is helping?”

  “It sure is. I haven’t had too many aches at all since hitting the warmer weather a few months ago. It stiffens up a little if I forgo the PT though.”

  Chance nodded. “I reckon it does. You got quite a regimen.”

  “You could join me if you wanted.” Because watching that ass while he was running sounded l
ike more wonderful torture. He shook his head at himself. Still, he’d be happy to have company.

  “Oh. Well, maybe. I’d have to sort of plan it, you know?”

  “Not an early riser?” He hadn’t noticed Chance up and about before he’d gotten back before today.

  “Huh?” Chance looked confused for a second, then his eyes went wide. “Oh! Nah. I gotta take my shot and eat at seven. I’ll need to move my meal and shot up to go running with you or I won’t make it. Maybe I could just have a little snack and then go...”

  “Oh, right! Damn there’s a lot to remember with it, isn’t there? Well if you really do want to join me, I could do warm-ups for a half hour or so before I head off on the run -- give you more time to eat. I’ve been getting up at oh-five hundred for over twenty years, not an easy habit to break. Guess I’ve never found a reason to either.”

  “Be easier with a warm body keeping you in bed, I reckon.” Chance blinked, shut his mouth, turned dark red.

  “I suppose I wouldn’t know,” he admitted. You didn’t stick around to spend the night when you were dicking with other men and you were in the army.

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” Chance looked down. “It’s one of my favorite parts of having a steady.”

  “Having a steady in the service’ll get you a dishonorable and the tar beaten out of you.” He shrugged. “It’s just the way things are. I’m not exactly great boyfriend material anyway.”

  “Well, I spent some time in Austin, you know? College. Long time ago.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for having a different life from me, Chance. Hell, I can’t say as I think it would be great if we could all just get along instead of having to hide like we’re doing something wrong.”

  “Yeah.” Chance grinned, sort of rolled his shoulders.

  “Hell, you’re the closest I’ve ever come to having a steady.” Now it was his turn to go a little red. He wasn’t sure why he’d said it, except it was the truth.