BBQ and Broncs
This is a m/m story with Skip and Justin, two rodeo cowboys from Lassoed.
Skip sang as he worked, peeling jumbo shrimp and plopping it in the marinade he’d made. Justin didn’t seem to mind his singing, for all that he sounded like a lonely dingo, had in fact told him it was cute.
He still boggled at that. Skip reckoned he was about as cute as a cane toad.
It was nice to be able to have some fancy food for their grill. He’d done some fancy footwork to save one cowboy from a sure trampling, and that cowboy had won for that ride, winning a fancy DeWalt tool set, one that the kid promptly gave to Skip in gratitude.
Made him cry.
But only for a minute.
Anyways, he didn’t have a house to set up a fancy workshop so Skip’d waited until they were in the next town and on a different rotation than young Cary Mowers and sold the kit for a hefty chunk of change. Some of it he put away for a rainy day, but some he’d taken right to the nearest market and bought up food. Shrimp, steak, good beer. Some fancy roasting potatoes. And a frozen pie, since he couldn’t do pies for the life of him.
Justin was out heating up the grill, and as soon as he got everything ready Skip syuck his head out the door of the little trailer. “You almost ready, love?”
“Yep. Your man makes fire.” Justin had stripped down to a pair of holey jeans and flip-flops, straw hat drooping, ass wiggling along with the radio, barbie going like the blazes. “Good man. Very good.”
Oh, Justin did look spiffy. He left the shrimp on the counter for a bit, wandering out to grab that swaying bum and squeeze. “Really good.”
Justin pushed toward his hands, chuckling. “Are you distracting the chef?”
“I’m just praising his ability to set coals ablaze.” Skip hummed happily, pressing against Justin’s back, hands sliding around Justin’s belly.
“Least I could do, with the fine spread you’ve put up.” Justin leaned back into him, belly rippling under his fingers.
“Thought we’d earned it, love.” He kissed the swollen, bruised spot on Justin’s shoulder, figuring they’d both been beaten about enough to need a sweet meal on their day off.
“Hell, yeah. We work for our pennies.” Justin shifted, moaning a little. “That’s sweet, babe.”
“Tastes good, too.” Who needed surf and turf?
Justin stretched, fingers sliding against his. “You ever think about getting ink, babe?”
He stroked Justin’s chest and belly, considering it. “Never have, no. Never thought to, until I saw it on you.”
“Thought we could… Maybe find one we both could live with.”
Skip’s fingers stuttered, and his heart did too. That? Was better than a great big tool kit any day. He tugged Justin around to face him, grinning like an idiot. “Yeah?”
Those mismatched eyes were shining, Justin all smiles. “Yeah. I was thinking so.”
Justin’s hands slid around his waist, framing his ass.
“I could definitely do with that.” He was probably blushing, but he didn’t care. That sounded… permanent. Made him hope.
Justin leaned down, brushed their lips together. “Thank you. Been wanting to ask.”
“Glad you did.” He was acting like a shiela, but he wasn’t going to apologize for it. Instead he was gonna kiss Justin silly. Justin met his kiss full-force, tongue sliding right in, parting his lips and tasting him. Smoke and heat and lemons, from the lemonade they’d had earlier. Skip went up on tiptoe, searching for more of that taste, loving the way Justin felt against him. Justin’s hand cradled his head, fingers stroking, moving against him.
“Gonna get busy out here in front of the whole world?” He grinned, licking Justin’s lower lip as he pulled away. Reluctantly.
“Guess not. Got a supper to get on…” Justin’s need was right there, heavy and full in those jeans, a little wet spot spreading.
“We can put it in the icebox. The coals could stand to burn down.” Skip got ahold of Justin’s belt buckle and pulled, urging the man inside.
“Oh, you’re a brilliant one.” Up the stairs and into the trailer and Justin’s hands were reaching for him, sliding up his ribs to tease his nipples.
If every little bit of him wasn’t already standing right up and taking notice, that touch would have done it. As it was it made him jump, made him turn and press Justin up against the little wall and kiss like there was no tomorrow. Justin pulled and tugged his clothes loose, then those fingers slid down his back, squeezed and rubbed his ass, tugging them together.
“Oh. Good. The shrimp.” There was something about the shrimp.
“Hmm? Shrimp?” Justin lifted his head, panting. “Oh. In the fridge.”
“We should. Put them there.” They should. Skip managed to snag them and Justin opened the bitty door and in they went. No sense letting supper go bad. Then Skip grabbed Justin and hauled him to the back so they could get horizontal.
“Mmm… we deserve a reward for being all responsible and shit.” Justin leaned over, nibbled his neck, hand sliding against his belly.
“We do. We are.” Thinking was too hard with Just against him and Skip gave up, struggling with Justin’s old jeans.
“Uh-huh…” Justin helped and between them they both found naked, Justin ending sitting on the mattress, mouth sliding against his hip.
He reached out, traced one tattoo, then another, thinking about them both getting one… made him ache. He touched Justin’s cock, those low balls, soft and slow, savoring.
They stretched out together, bodies knowing how to tangle up, lips sharing long, slow kisses that made the room spin. They touched too, all over, hands sliding, sweat popping up on their skin. Skip turned and licked Justin’s jaw, fingers finding the crease along Justin’s bum, spreading him.
Justin’s fingers were drawing his nipples up to tight peaks, teasing the tip of his cock, rolling his balls nice and easy. Chills went up his spine and rolled back down, making his balls ache, his cock jump. He petted and pushed and finally got a finger against Justin’s hole, entering just to the first knuckle.
Justin groaned, teeth scraping his jaw a little, heavy cock bobbing against his belly. “You wantin’, babe?”
“Always. Always wanting you, love.” Any way Skip could get him.
Justin purred, reaching up for the lube, the inked belly stretching. “Makes me proud, you call me that.”
“I love doing it.” Skip took the lube and got his fingers good and wet, pushing them back between Justin’s spread legs. Pushing in.
“Oh…” Justin rippled, riding his fingers just so. Damn.
“Yeah. I can feel you, Just. So hot.” He couldn’t wait to get in there, couldn’t wait to feel Just around his prick, but he wasn’t going to hurt him for anything.
“For you. Shit, you make me need it.” Justin braced himself, moved faster.
“Oh. God.” Soon enough Skip had Justin ready, and he couldn’t wait any longer. Skip moved into place, hips pressing forward, seating him all the way to his hipbones in Justin’s hole.
Oh, that was something, all that skin laid out for him, Justin sliding on his cock, fucking himself, flushed with need.
Made him proud, to have man like that. Made him want things. Skip lunged, hips snapping as he took everything Jusitn gave him. God, he was in love so bad.
Those eyes watched him, wide open, hot. “Mine. Fuck, babe. Could just eat you… oh, eat you up…”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Skip grabbed for Justin’s big cock, hand closing into a fist around it, squeezing. So fucking gorgeous. Justin roared, shoulders lifting from the mattress, body squeezing tight as seed just sprayed.
“Love!” Skip shook, hips pumping one or two more times before Skip came too, his whole body shaking with it. Justin’s arms circled him, held him tight, a low moan soft against his ear.
“We sure started that fire, love.” Skip chuckled. “We sure did.”
“No shit, babe.” Justin’s mustache tickled his jaw, that low voice the softest whisper. “You’re mine, too, you know it? My love.”
“Yeah.” Oh, he was just so full. Happy in his bones, as Justin would say. “Love you.”
Justin’s smile felt good, letting him know he wasn’t alone in this mess. “Yeah.”
“We ought to get that shrimp.” He was laughing, stroking Justin’s ink. “Then maybe we can talk tattoos.”
“Sounds like one hell of a plan, babe.” Justin kissed him, eyes just shining.
“Good.” He goosed, laughing as Justin jump. “Go check on your fire, cave-cowboy. I’ll get the meat.”
“Ugh. Man go stir coals.” Their laughter joined right up together, filling the trailer.
“And the little woman will get the shrimp.” They laughed even harder, so much that Skip ended up wheezing and holding his ribs, just rolling.
This? Was better than a tool kit any day. Or a house to put it in. He had Justin. That was all he needed.