Finding The Way Home (4 page)

Horse didn't know how long it was going to last, but he was going to ride the wave as long as it did.

James sighed and pondered throwing his phone across the deck. Andy had been calling for two days. Two fucking days.

He was happy here on the beach with Horse. Happy and whole. He was learning how to wear his arm for longer and longer times, learning to function with it. He didn't figure Andy had anything to say that James really wanted to hear.

Horse came out on the deck with a couple beers just as James' phone started ringing again. "Someone's popular," Horse said.

"It's fucking Andy." James wasn't interested in ruining his life.

"What does he want?" Horse handed over one of the longnecks.

"I haven't the foggiest fucking idea."

The phone stopped ringing, then began again.

"If you answered, then he'd stop calling."

Horse would go and be all logical and shit.

"Yeah, I guess." James grabbed the phone, and answered. "What?"

"Jimmy?"

He couldn't believe that fucker was calling him like they still had a reason to talk.

"That's who you called, yes." He kept it short, formal.

Horse looked at him, eyebrows up. He rolled his eyes.

"I was wondering where you were. You didn't leave me a forwarding address," Andy said.

The fucking nerve. "That's none of your business."

"I was worried about you. Especially when you didn't answer your phone!"

"Why? What do you want?" James didn't need this shit.

"Can I see you?"

"Why?"

"I made a mistake. I just...it's scary, loving a soldier."

He looked at Horse, eyes dragging over his lover's ripped body. James didn't think it was all that scary.

"Jimmy? Jimmy, please. I still love you. Just come back."

"Yeah." James looked up at Horse and didn't bother even muting the phone. "He wants me to come back."

"You will? You'll come back?" Andy was still whining.

"You want to?" Horse asked, face absolutely expressionless.

"God, no. If I can't stay with you, I'll find somewhere close so I can see you."

"Hell, yes, you can stay." Horse grinned, then took a swig of his beer.

"Jimmy? Jimmy are you still there?" Andy was moving from whining to shrill.

"Nope." James hung up, turned his phone off. "Thanks for the beer, man."

Horse chuckled. "You hung up on him."

"Did I?" He didn't really give a shit.

"Uh-huh." Horse binged their beer bottles together and took another sip. "Next time you should tell him you can't talk because you have to go fuck your new boyfriend."

"Oh, that's a good idea. Or you can answer, just say 'dude, he's real busy sucking me off.'"

Horse laughed. "Of course I hate lying. Maybe we should practice the sucking off part so I get it right."

James snorted, "Smooth, man. Real smooth."

"Did I blow it?" Horse asked.

"I thought I was going to blow you."

"That's what I was worried I'd blown." Horse got a shit-eating grin on his face. "But if you're still the one blowing, then I guess I didn't blow it."

They snorted, then the happy laughter started again. God, he was happy here. "Did you mean it?"

"Of course I meant it--show me a man who doesn't want to get blown."

"That's not what I'm talking about." Dork. "Did you mean it about me staying, like permanently?" He could throw his life in with Horse for the long haul.

"I'll have you as long as you'll stay."

"I'll stay as long as you'll have me."

"Now that that's settled..." Horse's voice faded away, his gaze getting hotter.

James grabbed the cushion from the chair he was sitting in--it would save his knees.

Smiling, Horse spread his legs wide and popped the top button of his jeans. James got into position, resting his arms on Horse's thighs. Horse cupped his head, thumb sliding across his cheek.

"Hey." James was where he belonged. He was home.

Horse tugged down his zipper, the sound preceding a groan as Horse's cock pushed at his underwear. Then Horse fished out that sweet, fat prick, holding it toward his lips.

"Love watching you do this." Horse's voice was quiet, almost like he was in church.

And James loved it. Honestly. Horse's cock was a thing of beauty.

He took the head in, Horse's groan music to his ears. It was easy as pie to pull and lick, to hum as he closed his eyes and sucked Horse right there on the beach. Horse murmured words of approval, made needy little noises. James focused on the tip until Horse sounded like he was out of his mind. He could feel Horse's need in the trembling of his thighs beneath James' arms.

Come on, man. Fuck me. Fuck my mouth.

Like he'd heard James' thoughts, Horse moaned, hips pushing the thick cock deeper, sending it to his throat.

Hell, yes. James swallowed hard, pulling Horse in farther. Both of Horse's hands landed on his head, cradling it as Horse fucked his mouth. James swallowed and opened, breathing through his nose.

"Fuck, baby."

He knew it wasn't going to be long before his cock worship turned into Horse's orgasm.

"Mmmhmm." Just like that. James felt... young. Happy. At peace.

Horse cried out, bucking up. Come poured into James' mouth. James took it, then leaned back, licking his lips. Horse rubbed his lower lip, fingers lingering.

"That sweet cock of yours needing?" Horse asked.

"Fuck, yeah." James sucked that curious finger right in.

Groaning, Horse fucked his mouth. "I could blow you or fuck you. Soldier's choice."

"Embarrassment of riches," James noted.

"You deserve 'em."

"Thank you, man." He didn't mean for the sex, although that was good. He meant for the family.

"You're welcome." Horse clearly knew what he'd meant. "Wanna go inside and fuck like bunnies?"

"Hell, yeah. I can't think of anything I'd like better."

Leaning down, Horse grabbed James' head and kissed him, tongue pushing into his mouth. He pushed in, and James tasted Horse, let Horse taste himself. Groaning, Horse deepened the kiss. He loved this, loved how kissing Horse could go on for ages and still feel necessary and good.

Finally, Horse stood, drawing James up even as their kisses continued. James didn't even worry about his beer. He could sacrifice it to the gods of fucking.

Horse had on his best jeans and a nice crisp white shirt. His best duds. He looked good and he knew it. He wanted to. He was taking James out on their first date, and he had to admit, he wanted to impress. Which, okay, maybe it was silly, given they'd totally put the cart before the horse--living together, followed by making love, followed by their first damn date. It was working for them, though, so he wasn't going to worry about it.

Walking around the truck, he opened the passenger door for James. "I think you're going to like it. They grill a mean steak and they clear out a square for dancing every Monday night."

"This seems like an odd place for a gay-friendly bar not to be burned to the ground, huh?" Jim noted.

"I know, right? We're in a friendly pocket, though. I think the fact that an ex-Marine and his tougher than nails mother own the place might have something to do with it." Barton and Old Meg were good people. Unless you messed with them. "They've got a whole mountain of relatives, too, ready to back them up."

"Woot." Jim was looking fine in a dark button up open at the neck shirt. The prosthetic arm rested in Jim's lap. It was actually a little weird. Jim tended to leave it off at home.

Knowing Jim could get out of balance sometimes, Horse offered his hand for Jim to grab hold of with his good hand, as he got out of the truck.

"Thanks, man." Jim shifted his shoulder, the hand opening and closing.

"You okay?" He'd made sure Jim knew he didn't mind the stump at all before they'd left the house, but Jim seemed to want to practice with the prosthetic.

"Yeah. Just stretching."

"Cool beans." Horse closed the door and hit the button on his fob to lock down the truck and they headed in.

The place wasn't very crowded yet--most people showed up later when the dancing started and feasted on munchies. But Horse and Jim hadn't had a meal they hadn't cooked themselves since Jim moved in, and he thought they deserved a bit of a treat.

"Yo! Horse! Long time no see, man!" Barton waved at him, face all grins.

He waved back, giving Barton a hug when the man came over. He got a bear hug in return, then Barton's attention turned to Jim.

"This is my best friend, James." James was a lot of things to him, but best friend had been first and it was important, so Horse went with it. He didn't like most of the alternatives, anyway, and he didn't want to speak for Jim, call the man his partner when they hadn't had that conversation yet themselves. Not really, anyway. "Jim, this is Barton, owner of the best gay friendly bar and restaurant in town."

Barton snorted. "I think you mean only, bud."

Jim nodded. "Pleased to meet you."

Barton held out his hand to shake with Jim and Jim had a moment of stillness, then the hand came up. To Barton's credit, there was only a moment of weirdness when he grabbed the rubber hand.

"Did you make a reservation?" Barton asked. "Not that you need one, but Meg gets testy if I don't mark it off the list."

Horse shook his head. "No, I figured even if it was busy you'd find somewhere for us to sit."

"I will. You Army?" Barton asked Jim.

At Jim's nod, Barton smiled. "Thanks for your service, man. You'll always have a table here."

Horse nodded. Good people, Barton and his mom.

Horse and Jim followed Barton to a table that was out of the way, but not too far from the dance floor. "What do you guys want to drink?"

"I'd like a Coors Lite, please." They were going to be dancing off the booze before he had to drive home.

"I'll take the same," Jim said.

"You got it." Barton laid the menus down in front of them. "I'll bring those out along with some rolls." Barton headed back toward the bar.

"How did the shake look? Pretty normal?" Jim asked as soon as they were alone.

"Yeah, totally. Did it feel weird?" Horse figured everything had to feel weird with that hand.

"Yeah." Jim looked down, then back up and there was a grin. "But it'll get less and less weird as I go on."

That was his Jim.

"Damn right it will." Horse grabbed his menu and gave it a quick look, knowing Barton wouldn't tarry on bringing them their drinks.

"You said the steaks were good?" Jim asked.

"The steaks are fucking amazing." He was going to have the rib-eye with a loaded baked potato.

"Rock on." Jim shook his head. "I should have practiced cutting steaks more at home. I think I'm going to go for it, though. You can help me if I get into trouble."

"Yep, I've got your back." He cut Jim's steak up at home without even thinking about it, whether or not Jim was using his prosthetic. He supposed it would be more helpful to let Jim struggle through it. Still, it felt good to help. Hell, Jim made eggs for him every damn morning because Jim was better at it.

They worked well together, each contributing what they could.

"I'm getting a baked potato with mine," Horse shared. "Their thick-cut fries are pretty good, too, but don't let the vegetable offerings fool you--Barton never met one that he liked and he clearly hired a chef who feels the same way."

"I think I'll do with fries and a salad, then."

"I might have a side of more steak instead of the salad." Horse did like his meat, too.

"I hear you disparaging my vegetables." Barton set down a basket of warm rolls with little packets of butter softening right in with them. He then set their two mugs of beer down.

"Would I do that?" Horse asked.

"Fuck yes." Barton grinned. "Y'all decided?"

"Rib-eye for me. Medium rare with the loaded baked potato, and I'll have the coleslaw instead of the salad." Horse liked coleslaw better than salad any day.

"I'll take the strip, medium, with fries and salad, ranch dressing." Jim passed his menu back to Barton.

"You got it. Be about twenty minutes for the food. Wave me down if you need anything before it comes."

"Thanks, man." Horse grabbed a bun and a couple pads of butter, setting them on his little side plate. "You going to give cutting and buttering a try with the hand?" He'd get Jim set up first if necessary but he guessed Jim would try it out himself.

"I am." Jim did most everything with his left hand anyway, but he held the roll with his right hand, only squeezing a little too hard. It took longer than normal and the bun was a little mangled, but Jim managed.

Horse went more slowly cutting and buttering his own so they were both done around the same time. He didn't want Jim to feel self-conscious.

The roll was delicious--homemade and still hot enough that the butter simply melted onto it. Tasted as good as it looked and smelled delicious, too.

"Yum. I like it." Jim buttered the other half, and this time it seemed easier.

Horse was pretty sure it wasn't going to take Jim all that long to be using that prosthetic like it was a real arm--Jim had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Which was the kind of thing you needed in this situation. Of course, Horse didn't notice when Jim left it off, which was most of the time at home. Hell, he found the stump hot.

Watching Jim, he drank his beer and ate his roll. Like he seemed to spend a lot of his time doing.

"You okay, man?" Jim offered him a fond, happy grin as he asked the question. "I am. It's nice to have a change of scenery, right?" Horse said.

"Yeah, although I'm still feeling the beach love at home."

"Definitely. I love it there. I can't show you off there, though." God, he was turning into a sap. It was worth it, though. Look at that grin. Jim was pleased by his words.

They talked about their beach, about some of the things making headlines, just shooting the breeze and enjoying each other's company.

It didn't seem like it had been twenty minutes at all when Barton brought over their food. "You guys want more beer?"