His Country

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Winter hit. Not with a punch, but with a slap. Snow and Ice flurried in the air, and the wind rattled the windows. Isaac shuffled around the bunkhouse with his comforter wrapped around him and Carol brewed enough coffee for an army. The cows huddled together, coats fluffy, and the horse’s ears laid back every time the trees shook with another frosty gust.

But Aiden didn’t feel it. He didn’t notice the hard press of grey cloud over head or miss the sunshine. His breath plumed when he whistled, and he pulled his hood up over his hat, but he wasn’t cold. Not like the winter before. Or maybe it was just that he didn’t notice it as much.

What he did notice was the ache in his cheeks. He was smiling a lot more. So much so that his face hurt. Isaac nearly fell off the tractor the first time he caught him laughing at one of the barn cats trying to walk across a frozen water trough. Frank even asked if he needed to see a doctor.

When he looked in the mirror, he saw himself. Not the shade of the boy he was, or a wraith of the man he could be. He just saw himself—cheeks red from the cold, hair long enough to fall into his eyes when it wasn’t stuffed under his hat, and eyes that no longer reminded him of the algae in a water trough but of a field of grass fresh off a spring rain.

He felt lighter, too. The tension in his chest was gone. A bit like when he was congested, he could still breathe, but when it was gone, and he could take a full breath the difference was staggering.

As a coincidence Aiden refused to believe was a correlation, Ethan kept kissing him. There was no reason for it either. He’d be in the barn and Ethan would grab him, spin him against the closest surface and kiss the surprised gasp from his lips.

It would always start with Ethan kissing Aiden, but it didn’t stay that way. Eventually Aiden would kiss back, clumsily and with no finesse. He would start to get frustrated, fingers digging into Ethan’s shoulders until the man would slide a warm palm around his neck and still him. With a press of fingers that always feels like a suggestion rather than a demand, he would shift Aiden to where he needed to be.

Like finding the correct puzzle piece, they slotted together, and it was a sigh of relief. Kissing before had been frustrating, a build up with nowhere to vent it. But when they slipped together, stubbled cheeks brushing and spit soaked lips chasing each other in a game of tag neither wanted to win, it was euphoric. He felt it deep in places he didn’t know existed.

Just when he’d get to the point where his hips stuttered, so hard he worried he might have a permanent impression of his zipper on his dick, Ethan would stop. Rest his forehead on Aiden’s with a victorious smile.

Weeks went by like that. It got to the point that every time Sugar barked, Aiden’s blood rushed south so quickly his blood pressure bottomed out.

Aiden brushed hay from his shoulders as he jumped out the bed of the truck. Sugar snapped at his heels, tongue lolling. She was covered in hay, and he stooped to dust her off.

“I’m just saying,” Isaac called out as he leaned out the window, carrying on a conversation they started while they’d been feeding the cows. “The reason the government isn’t properly funding schools or libraries is because they don’t want us to think independently.”

He peered up at Isaac from under the brim of his hat. “Always figured it was because they were greedy assholes.”

“Nah, man.” Isaac thumped his hand against the door. “They want us to be completely reliant on them. Why else you think their raising taxes and giving away land?”

It was a bad day when Aiden agreed with Isaac. He finished with Sugar and sent her off with a tweak of her tail. Standing up, he cast a glance up at the sky. The clouds were looking ominous. Forecast said there was a big storm rolling in. They’d dropped extra hay for the cows and horses, but he wondered if it would be enough.

“Going to go grab some more goat feed. Need anything from town?”

“No, I’m good.”

Isaac waved as he drove off, hay flying out the bed of the truck. Aiden made his way back to the barn, debating whether he should bring Eagle in for the weekend. The gelding hated being stalled, but he wasn’t as furry as the other horses this year. He was considering pulling up the weather on Frank’s computer, when someone snagged him by the hip and shoved him up against the side of round bale.

Ethan smelled like coffee and chewing gum as he knocked Aiden’s hat off so he could kiss him properly. Fingers dug through his hair, nails dragging along his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Like a trained response, Aiden’s hands buried in his coat and he swallowed thickly. They were completely out in the open. Anyone could walk around the barn and see them.

He pulled back from Ethan’s sinful lips, head smacking into the bale with a dull thunk. Bits of hay rained down and caught in his eyelashes.

“What are you doing?”

Ethan’s cheeks were as pink as his lips. “Trying to quit smoking.” He kissed him again, hard and desperate. His hands were shaking, and he rutted up against Aiden’s hips in a way he hadn’t done before. It left him breathless and weak kneed.

“How is this—God Ethan you gotta—what does you quitting smoking have to do with k-kissing me?”

Ethan hummed against his lips. “Says I should occupy my mouth with something else.”

“Who says?”

He nipped Aiden’s lower lip and then chuckled when his entire body arched into him. “Experts.”

Aiden needed to send those experts a thank you card.

Ethan never went beyond kissing. His hands stayed above Aiden’s clothes, moving with a gentle hesitancy in their purpose. Like he would stop the moment Aiden said so. But he never did. Why, he wasn’t sure. This was everything he told himself he couldn’t do.

But it was just kissing. As long as he didn’t admit it out loud, as long as Ethan is kissing Aiden because he’s the only one for miles who’d kiss him back, it was simple. If he didn’t think about it, just let those kisses exist in that same place outside of time he found in the truck on the way back from the bar. The one that started with pinkies brushing and ends with whatever it was they were doing pressed up against a round bale.

This didn’t mean anything. Just like waking up with morning wood. It was a biological function. Ethan kissed Aiden and Aiden kissed Ethan back. There were no labels. As long as he didn’t think about it, he was fine.

Ethan jerked himself away, pupils dilated and breathing ragged. Aiden watched him adjust himself. He got himself together before snagging Aiden’s hat off the ground, dusting it off before gently setting it on his head. He tucked Aiden’s hair into it, fingers trailing down his jaw to examine the marks his stubble left on his cheeks.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, voice as low as the storm clouds. “Frank and I are meeting with the Sheriff about the town meeting.”

Aiden nodded shakily. “You feel better?”

Ethan’s smiled, shaking his head as he looked away from Aiden for a moment. “Yeah.” He stepped close, laying a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I’m not thinking about cigarettes anymore.” His hand was hot where it laid against his lower back. It blazed a trail as it dropped to squeeze Aiden’s ass.

Ethan was gone before Aiden could react. Not that he knew how. He was left propped up against the round bale, trying to decide if he wanted to forget about how his hand felt on his ass or ask him to come back and do it again so he’d never be able to.

His indecision followed him throughout the day. He tried to focus on his work but exhausting his body didn’t seem to do anything for his mind. That night when he was lying in his bunk, Sugar and Isaac snoring somewhere in the dark, he stared up at the ceiling and felt his stomach rising and falling under his hand.

It was warm in the bunkhouse, and he’d kicked the covers down. His fingertips brushed against the waistband of his boxers, restless. It was like a wolf pacing at the gate. Indecision stilled his hand, despite the ache in his groin.

If he moved forward, it would be admitting something. A certainty that he’d been able to keep at a distance. Inevitably, Aiden’s mind drifted back towards this afternoon. Ethan had been unusual. He was always so coy, like he was playing a game that no one else knew the rules to. But today was different. He’d thrown out the rules and reached for Aiden like he needed him. Took, instead of giving. If the timing had been different, he wasn’t sure he’d have stopped.

Wasn’t sure if he wanted him to.

Even now, he could feel Ethan’s hands on him. The confidence with which he grabbed him, like it was a certainty. And it was that that finally broke Aiden. He slipped his hands into his shorts to find himself half hard.

Breaking every rule he’d ever set for himself, he allowed his eyes to flutter close and remember the way Ethan’s felt they were kissing. That little staccato of breaths that brushed against his skin, quick and brief, like he would rather kiss Aiden than breathe. Or how he would press his entire body against him. Chest warm and hard and hips flush with Aiden’s. The strength of the arm slipped around him to hold him up when his knees grew weak, as if Ethan liked having Aiden as putty in his hands.

How big his hand was when it grabbed his ass.

Aiden hadn’t spent much time thinking about his ass, but the way his dick twitched in his hand told him he probably should. Just with his fingers loosely wrapped around his cock, he was already hard. Precum rolled down his shaft, sliding between his fingers as he finally started jerking himself off.

With his free hand clamped over his mouth, he let his mind wander to places he hadn’t let it go since he was a teenager in a bed no smaller than this one. With the curtains drawn and his parents sleeping down the hall, he would never picture Everett, that was too much, but he’d let the faceless men in his fantasies do things to him. It was all theoretical, what he thought things might feel like.

But now he knew. Now he couldn’t not picture Ethan’s face. His hands. His lips. Everything about him came to mind so easily. Even the way he smelled, tobacco growing fainter by the day, the crisp scent of the gum he chewed. Even the chemical smell of the soap he used to clean his tools and hands between patients.

Two strokes and Aiden came silently, Ethan’s name on lips silenced by his palm. Toes curling and hips twitching, he came so hard he saw sparks dancing behind his eyes. They looked a lot like the twinkle in Ethan’s eyes.

Coming down, he winced as he pulled his sticky hand from his shorts. He held it out over the railing to try and minimize the damage to his sheets. As the cum dried on his fingers, the post-orgasm clarity hit him like a baseball bat to the stomach.

He’d jacked off to Ethan. Not some vague, Ethan shaped man in his fantasies, but unequivocally Ethan. And as he searched around for the shame and guilt he knew would come hurtling into him, he couldn’t find it under the desire that was still brimming under his skin. The desire that whispered if Ethan were here, he’d clean Aiden up. Maybe gently tease him. But he’d definitely grab him, wrap him in his arms and protect him from the things he’d never been able to protect himself from.

When he was with Ethan, he could admit that he liked it when their pinkies brushed. When he surprised him with kisses or teased him until his cheeks were as red as the back of his neck.

Wiping his hands off on the sheets bunched up at the end of the bunk, he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow.

Aiden couldn’t help but think that most things were better when Ethan was around.

The end of a decent winter storm had Aiden riding up into the pastures to check the cows. They were still a couple months out from calving, but he needed to get eyes on them and their pastures. He’d just begun tacking Eagle up when Ethan showed up. Without asking, he snagged Frank’s mare and they prepared to ride up into the pastures together.

Even though the storm had rolled past, it was still cold. The wind bit through their jackets and Aiden kept wriggling his toes in his boots to keep the blood flowing. Even Eagle had his ears pinned against the wind, a pissy expression on his face. The only one of them who seemed to enjoy it was Sugar. She entertained herself by snapping at flurries and leaping into snowbanks.

As they rode past, the cattle gave them the stink eye. It was almost as if they’d heard the gossip that some of the other ranchers sent their cattle to California to graze for the winter. While their neighbors were basking in the coastal sunshine, they had frost collecting on their lashes.

Once again, Ethan kept up a running commentary. Most of it was nonsense. He spent nearly an hour regaling Aiden on the latest book series he’d been reading. Another on a TV show he had to stop watching because the main couple kept getting back together and he didn’t like the female character. It was silly and Aiden couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Ethan chattered at him like that.

Not that it was their fault. Aiden made keeping people at a distance an art form. It was easier than answering questions he didn’t want asked. He’d never been a good enough liar to tap dance around the truth.

There was also a small part of him that felt like he didn’t deserve anyone. After what he did to Everett and Billy, it seemed like a kind of penance. The price he paid for running. After all, how could he be sure it wouldn’t happen again? Because the ugly truth was that as much as Aiden masqueraded as a cynic, at his heart he was a romantic. A dreamer. Someone who knew stars were just a boiling mass of gases and explosions but still looked up at the sky and made a wish.

He’d reached for the stars, contented himself with the clouds, and still fell victim to gravity. Picking himself out of a crater of his own making was too difficult. It was easier not to try again.

But then Ethan came along. He’d taken one look at Aiden in his self-imposed exile, laying amongst the wreckage of his past and scooted some of the debris aside so he could sit beside him. And Aiden realized that even when he was masquerading as someone who didn’t, he never stopped looking at the stars.

They finished the fence lines and accounted for the cattle and decided to camp out. It had been so long since Aiden slept beneath the stars and when Ethan suggested it, there was no question in his mind. Even the cold couldn’t keep him from wanting to stay in this space with Ethan. Outside of time and gravity, where no shame or guilt could find him.

Ethan got the horses settled while Aiden set up their tent and built a fire. The wind died down and the flames took. Sugar flopped beside the fire and Aiden buried his hands in her fur while he poked at the coffee can warming by the edge of the fire.

“C’mere,” Ethan called from where he was snuggled up in his sleeping bag. He watched Aiden as he approached, the light from the fire turning his brown eyes amber. Like warm whiskey. The longer Aiden looked into them the more he felt like he’d just swallowed back a stiff drink. Burning on the way down, only to settle into a suffuse warmth that could only be felt from deep inside his belly.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he looked down at him. “What?”

“Sit down.”

“Why?”

Ethan huffed, rolling his eyes. “So I can stick a spider down your shirt. Jeez, are you always so suspicious?”

His arm slid from the warmth of his cocoon to grab Aiden’s wrist. He dragged him down between his legs, yanking and tugging until his back was pressed to Ethan’s front and he could wrap the sleeping bag around them both.

From where his chin rested on his shoulder, Aiden could feel his jaw moving as he spoke. “It’s called cuddling and it’s good for you.”

Aiden shivered when his breath tickled his ear. “You’re so full of shit.”

“I’m serious,” Ethan said authoritatively. “Mammals require touch. Aren’t you a mammal?”

Shoving his elbow back, Aiden laughed when Ethan groaned dramatically. They lapsed into silence, letting the warmth between them thaw their bones.

They’d picked a decent valley to camp in. During the summer, wildflowers bloomed all over. Little patches of color in a green landscape. Now, it was dark. The only light for miles and miles was their fire. Even from where they were sitting Aiden could feel it’s warmth. He let his eyes burn as he stared at it, watching the log smolder in a symphony of cracks and pops just for them.

In this time outside of time, Aiden could allow himself to believe this was something more than just camping out. That this was something he could have. Dinner of cold jerky and metallic coffee, a show, and the two of them cuddling before falling asleep. No prying eyes. No witnesses save Sugar and the horses.

Aiden cleared his throat. “You have brothers?” it was phrased as a question but they both knew a segue when they heard it.

“Yup. Four of them.”

“D-Do…” he trailed off, unsure of how to word it. How to speak it aloud. He’d never said it before. Not like this. Not in reference to himself. “Do they know you like men?”

Ethan’s hand blindly found Aiden’s under the sleeping bag. He laced their fingers. “Yeah. I told them.”

He squeezed his hand like a buoy in the raging sea of what he was trying to say. He’d never allowed himself to discuss anything like this before. The focus might be on Ethan, but Aiden was close enough to feel the salty spray. “Did they mind?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged behind him. “Didn’t ask.”

Aiden twisted to look up at Ethan, to judge his seriousness. Was he mocking him? His face was sincere.

“I only care about someone’s thoughts on my sexuality if I’m seeing them naked. And that sure as shit isn’t my brothers.”

How could he be so…blasé about it? Uncaring? Aiden could see the strength in Ethan’s eyes. He was unwavering. Not that he didn’t care, but that he was confident. In himself. In his attractions. Ethan knew, unequivocally, who he was.

“Your parents?”

Ethan’s lips quirked. “My dad chose self-preservation a long time ago and always agrees with my mother and my mom said, and I quote, ‘as long as one of you little assholes gives me grandkids, I don’t care who you’re bumping uglies with.’” He raised his voice in what Aiden hoped was a terrible impression of his mother’s voice. “I figured one of my brothers can take that bullet.”

Shaking his head, Aiden looked at him from the corner of his eye. “So you don’t want kids?”

Ethan grinned toothily. “Maybe when I’m all grown up.”

Aiden laughed at that; his head tossed back so far his hat slipped off. Ethan took the opportunity to bend forward and bite his neck, just under his ear. Aiden writhed, swatting back at Ethan because the asshole knew he was ticklish there.

The assault on his neck continued until Ethan had Aiden flat on his back. Cold fingers found their way under all his layers and began tickling his ribs. Shrieking between bouts of laughter, he desperately tried to knock Ethan off, but he was pinned under his weight. His back hurt by the time the fingers, now warmed, stopped their brutal assault.

Catching his breath, Aiden opened his eyes to find Ethan looking down at him with a strange look on his face. His eyes were dark as they scanned his face, looking for something that had his mouth parted in a surprised gape.

Then he was kissing him. Hands wrapping around him to tug him close, mumbling something that sounded like freckles. Aiden parted his knees so Ethan could fall between them, their chests flush. It felt so comforting to be under his weight, held together so he couldn’t shake apart.

When they kissed like this, Aiden didn’t panic. He couldn’t feel the incoming guilt or shame. There was no fire and brimstone. He isn’t smote where he stands. No echo of love the sinner hate the sin.

Because kissing Ethan doesn’t feel like a sin. It feels like going to church every Sunday. Waking up to the early morning light of a settled Sunday. Fresh coffee in the pot and a quick bite to eat as they rush out the door because they’re always late. Picking at the wrinkles in his nice dress shirt while his mother complains that he needs a haircut. It feels like walking into church, with the dust motes swirling in the colored light from the stained-glass windows and the musty smell of a hymnal never opened. It feels like tradition. Like safety.

It feels like the preacher telling him he is loved. That he is unequivocally understood because he was made the way he was supposed to be. That there is something out there beyond the dust on his boots and the bills in the mailbox.

It feels like hope. The fresh sigh of relief when he says his final amen. Like the moment he steps out of church there’s a new beginning. A new week. Another chance for things to go right.

Kissing Ethan feels like acceptance.