Lonely At The Top - 5. Chapter 5

“You really don’t want to do this, do you?”

Nathan grimaced to himself and shrugged, even though Taylor couldn’t see him.

“You’re cooking, you get to pick.”

“I don’t so much call this cooking,” Taylor replied from the kitchen, accompanied with the sound of spitting fat. “It’s jus’ chicken.”

“Mrs Riley used to make the best fried chicken. There weren’t ever nothin’ better to do on a Sunday than turn up at Four Corners to eat lunch, then hang out all afternoon in the truck by the creek.” Once missing Clem in his bed had worn off, it had been the thing Nathan regretted most. After all if they’d stayed friends, he could have had some break from the monotony of roast beef and peach cobbler – nice as it was.

“So will you trade good chicken for my appalling choice in television?” Taylor appeared in the bedroom doorway and arched a perfectly maintained eyebrow. “On the other hand, I could trade dinner and television for more of that…”

Nathan looked down at himself; confused. Taylor had queried his general dislike of hanging around naked, and declared that only wearing boxers whilst Nathan was fully clothed made him feel weird. Nathan had arrived that evening to find Taylor’s laundry half-way through the folding process on the bed, and pulled out a very worn out loose fitted t-shirt, and a pair of loungewear pants in a green and white check. Now Taylor was looking at him like he was dressed to the nines and Nathan ran thick fingers through his un-styled hair and didn’t understand how pyjamas could be considered sexy.

“C’mon, cowboy: dinner’s nearly ready.” Taylor reached out to him, and Nathan moved closer so his lover could wrap an arm around his waist. Taylor kissed his neck softly, his manicured stubble at odds with the plump softness of his lips. “Mostly it’s just the thought of you naked under there that’s got me hard as a fuckin’ rock,” he whispered. Before Nathan could react, his companion vanished back towards the kitchen. He wasn’t really used to being flirted with, at least, not like this.

Nathan followed his friend into the main living room and made a beeline for the big couch. There was a bottle of beer condensing quietly on the coffee table, and Nathan scooped it up, all the time staring at the mark in the surface of the varnish where one of his boots had hit it one evening when he had been particularly keen to get his kit off. It dawned on Nathan that throwing his boots across the room was neither particularly mature, nor respectful: it was yet another thing he needed to work on, that and his attitude toward television. They had only ever sat down to watch PBR, rodeo, hockey, and NFL games before, but now the screen was tuned to something loud and bright Nathan didn’t recognise, but which featured a lot of dramatic music and intense glances from a panel of people who may or may not have been judging the dubious dancing talents of those in the sparkly outfits. Nathan swallowed back whatever he had been about to think about the man shimmying across the floor as a curvy woman wearing not a lot spun into his arms, and started to wonder if there was anything about his attitude he didn’t need to fix.

“Hey,” Nathan shuffled up as Taylor held out a plate for him, and made room for the man who sat on the sofa and instantly hung a leg over Nathan’s thigh, as comfortable and relaxed as anyone could be, “we can change the channel if you want to.”

“I’ll live,” Nathan concentrated on balancing the plate of heavenly scented fried chicken and super buttery corn as he put his beer down. “That woman at the group said getting’ on in life was about compromise, right?”

“Indeed.”

“I’m doin’ my best.”

Taylor kissed him, tasting like bourbon and soda.

“I expect no miracles. Now eat somethin’; I wanna hear what they have to say about the kid with the frizzy hair who can’t match pitch…”

Nathan didn’t think he would ever admit it, at least not for a long while, but by the end of the show, full of fried chicken and beer, he was actually enjoying the program, and looking forwards to the bitchy commentary given by one of the more outspoken judges. Even more than that though, was the surprising warmth and weight of Taylor leaning against him, tucked under his arm as though Nathan’s shoulder was the most natural place for him to be. Nathan had never understood his ex-boyfriend’s desire to cuddle and be close, or anyone else’s for that matter, and leaning with his shoulder against David’s on the back of a truck, drunk in a field somewhere didn’t count. But with Taylor’s warm hand over his abdomen, through the well washed fabric of the t-shirt he’d stolen, Nathan had no idea why he’d bothered to shrug Clem off every time. Hugging the guy he was with was yet another thing that didn’t make him weak; and Nathan wondered how he’d never saw it before. After the show had ended, Nathan was too comfortable to move, and Taylor managed to reach the remote, tune the television to a channel playing college football, and Nathan decided there were worse ways to spend a Thursday night.

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Taylor drummed a rhythm onto the ridged muscles of Nathan’s six-pack with his fingertips as he spoke. “Are you sure I won’t be in the way?”

“Nah,” Nathan smiled, “you might be bored though. Can you ride?”

“Some,” Taylor smiled, “I can’t wait to meet your friends.”

Nathan grinned with a brightness he did not feel; he hoped his friends would be pleased to see him too.

“How d’ya want me to introduce you?” Nathan asked softly. Taylor was still tattooing a pattern onto his abs, but his fingers were creeping ever lower towards the waistband of the thin cotton pants, and Nathan’s anatomy had noticed.

“As your friend?” Taylor glanced up at him eyes bright under his low drawn brows, “I ain’t ready to call this anything else. An’ neither are you.” Nathan frowned at him. “You’re in therapy, cowboy; you might not know what you want by the end of it – or you might, and it won’t be me.” He shrugged, “who knows.”

“Oh…” Nathan gulped, and sucked down whatever feeling was making him hot behind the eyes.

“Nate… that don’t mean I don’t care about you. And I ain’t just gonna abandon you either. I like you, really, and I like having you here,” he pressed his hand very firmly over Nathan’s abdomen, pushing him into the couch, “and I ain’t blaming that on any whiskey.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Taylor grinned, “now are you gonna kiss me anytime soon or…?”

Nathan didn’t think he’d ever had a kiss like it, not really. There had been a handful of long slow kisses with Clem, but they had been times when Nathan held himself back, usually after an argument, so they could avoid having another. Not since Jimmy’s second cousin had lain in the hayloft with him for an afternoon had Nathan just enjoyed kissing for the sake of the actual kiss. Taylor didn’t want to be introduced as his boyfriend, and Nathan was quietly glad about it, because he wasn’t sure he could deal with yet another emotion, not right then. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t slouch on the sofa with Taylor pressed against his chest and thigh, and kiss the beautiful man until his lips were soft. Nathan figured there was a lot in his life he could cope with if he could count on kisses like these.

His heart was hammering hard against his ribs when Taylor took his wandering hand, entwined his soft fingers with Nathan’s own, and tugged him up off the couch.

“Bedtime, cowboy.”

“’K…” Nathan followed the trail of his lips, and took the hint when Taylor pushed his shoulders in the direction of the bathroom. The big cowboy stood at the sink and brushed his teeth, examining the two days of stubble he hadn’t dealt with – mostly because he had barely been home. The best way to avoid his family, he had decided, was to be so far out in the fields that no one could reasonably get to him, and he’d refused to enter into any discussions with the hands about what he was doing. They could all still be civil to each other, but it’d been made clear he was their boss, and Nathan didn’t have to make his plans transparent to them.

He almost didn’t want to enter the bedroom. Not because he wasn’t tired, and not because he didn’t have an iron-hard erection tenting the front of his lounge-pants, but because he knew there was a lot wrong with the way he thought about sex. But admitting he’d been wrong to assume the guy doing the fucking had all the power, and actually relinquishing that power, we’re two very different things. When he’d been with Clem the one time… Nathan stared himself down in the mirror. He could no longer remember if he’d hated the way it felt, or just hated the way he’d felt while it happened. Nathan didn’t know what Taylor was going to want from him, but he knew it was going to be different from the way they’d had sex before.

There was a loose white sheet lain out over the bed, and Taylor’s bedside lamp was on low in the semi-darkness of the room. Taylor was naked, kneeling on the bed, and he smiled.

“C’mon cowboy, I got somethin’ for you.”

Nathan gulped and stepped forwards, fingers shaking slightly as he went to haul his t-shirt off over his head. No one had ever really watched him getting naked before either.

“Taylor…” Nathan had no idea what to say, because in his head all of his excuses sounded pathetic. He froze as he stepped up to the bed, fingers struggling with the cord of his pants.

“Relax Nate, I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Taylor swiped his hands away, yanked the clothes from his hips, and half a second later Nathan found his erection wrapped in the familiar heat of Taylor’s mouth. He groaned in pleasured surprise and stroked his palm over Taylor’s thick hair. To his surprise, the other man grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away. Nathan glanced down to find Taylor was looking up at him, lips wrapped around the shaft of his cock, and Nathan knew if he wanted to feel good, he was going to have to relinquish some control. He nodded to show he understood, and was rewarded by Taylor’s plump lips sinking down his length until the beautiful man was breathing against his abdomen. Nathan groaned. Taylor knew exactly how to bring him to the edge of ecstasy, and Nathan wondered in a small part of his head why he hadn’t trusted the other man to know what he was doing before. The rest of his brain was too busy moaning and panting, right up until the moment Taylor sat back on his heels and Nathan almost lost balance with the shock of comparatively cold air against his skin.

“Tay…”

“Lie down.”

Nathan did as he was bid, but Taylor frowned and pushed at his shoulder slightly.

“Turn over.”

“Why?” Pleasure was forgotten, because Nathan had gone instantly tense.

“Just trust me,” Taylor replied. He didn’t look angry, or like he was plotting something, and Nathan bit his lip as he lifted himself up. They kissed quickly, and Nathan rolled over and folded his arms under the pillow, cushioning himself in Taylor’s expensive linens. It was the most comfortable bed he’d ever lain in by a country mile. Taylor’s weight settled over the back of his thighs, and Nathan tensed slightly as the near silent room filled with the sound of a plastic lid snapping open. “Relax, it’s just massage oil.”

“OK…” Nathan frowned to the pillow; massage oil sounded dubious.

Taylor made a soft noise with his lips, and his weight shifted slightly as he bent to kiss the back of Nathan’s neck. The massage oil made a wet erotic noise as the beautiful man rubbed it between his palms, and Nathan tensed away from his touch. As Taylor smoothed his oily hands down either side of his spine, the cowboy realised what he doing: being tense on purpose on the basis that anything else was some form of admitting defeat. He took a deep breath and then Taylor pressed his knuckles into the small of his back, and Nathan groaned as he felt himself dissolve like an Alka-Seltzer.

“Haha,” Taylor half-laugh was whisper soft, and Nathan could only purr in response as he lay on the bed, letting his partner massage the muscles of his back and shoulders in a manner that was both infinitely relaxing, and was also keeping his erection pressing hard into his abdomen. He could feel the heat of Taylor on top of him, the weight and texture of his groin and taint, the pressure of his thighs either side of Nathan’s own, and when Taylor’s kneading fingers drifted lower, Nathan was shocked his body automatically flexed his ass into Taylor’s hands. “Feeling better?”

“Mmmm…” Nathan didn’t trust himself to speak. He did not want to ruin the good moment this was by saying something ignorant and hurtful, and he also wasn’t actually willing to admit out loud the sensation of Taylor massaging his buttocks was something that was turning him on.

When Taylor’s oiled fingers slid down his centre line, Nathan gasped at the suddenness of the touch, but he relaxed again as the massage continued as though nothing had happened. Taylor kissed the back of his neck again, and Nathan found himself wishing there was some way he could experience the massage and kiss Taylor properly at the same time. A moment later Taylor’s warm hands spread him again, massaging his behind just as he had with Nathan’s back and Nathan moaned. For a second he wished he hadn’t, but he could feel a weird soft sensation building up in the pit of his stomach, and though he couldn’t really tell if he liked it, he knew he wanted more.

“Roll over,” Taylor kissed the shell of his ear briefly, “trust me.”

Taylor shifted his knees as Nathan turned in the space. Only as his back hit the sheet did he panic suddenly.

“The oil! Your nice sheets…”

“It’s OK,” Taylor grinned, “that’s what the extra one is for.” His lover responded by kissing him, “It’s sweet that you worry.”

Nathan thought it was unusual for him to worry about other people’s things, but Taylor was smiling at him, so he didn’t mention it. The position had put him on his back, and Taylor was kneeling between his thighs, the angle encouraging Nathan’s pelvis to tilt upwards towards his lover, his legs spread around Taylor’s hips. He must have looked nervous, because Taylor smiled gently, and he swiped one still slightly oily thumb over Nathan’s furrowed brow.

“It’s fun; I promise.”

Just as Nathan was worrying about what ‘it’ was, Taylor wrapped his slick fingers around his achingly hard cock and Nathan groaned between his teeth. He glanced down at his partner, and watched in erotic fascination as Taylor took his own erection and put them alongside each other. Taylor grinned at him, cockiness in his expression that Nathan found he liked, and began to stroke them together.

“Ah!”

“Mmm…” Taylor purred, “I told ya it was good.”

“Oh, fuck…” Nathan gasped as he was squeezed and manhandled expertly. The heat of Taylor’s cock alongside his own, the friction of his fingers, and the beat of Taylor’s pulse right next to his own were overwhelming. He gasped and growled, leant up on his elbows and Taylor curled over to kiss him hard. Nathan could hardly breathe, and Taylor smiled, worked his free hand between Nathan’s thighs and pressed the tender flesh of his taint. “Tay!”

“Ungh…yeah…” Taylor groaned, and his grip tightened; Nathan came within seconds of his lover, both of them spattering each other with their seed. Nathan gasped, the room growing bright as his pupils dilated, and with his first breath, he laughed.

“I ain’t heard you do that before,” Taylor grinned and stroked his fingers down the ridges of Nathan’s abdomen.

“Well I ain’t done that before either…” Nathan panted. His thighs ached suddenly from being tense and parted for so long. It mightn’t have been so different from being in the saddle, but Nathan had never had all his muscles quiver quite that way.

“You OK?” Taylor lifted Nathan’s leg, and collapsed unceremoniously onto the mattress. “God, I missed you.”

“Really?” Nathan turned to look at his lover. Taylor was smiling softly, and Nathan loved that the beautiful man was still holding his waist with one hand.

“Yeah,” Taylor shifted forwards and kissed him gently, “but I like this much more.” He sighed, “Not that there isn’t a place for fabulously hard fucking…” he paused, “Nate?”

“Hmmm?” Nathan rolled over, shifted his weight and dragged out the oily sheet from underneath him. Then he simply pulled Taylor over to his chest and shoulder, and wrapped his arm around the other man and pressed his lips into his hair. “Thank you. That was… awesome.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah,” Nathan kissed his lover, and wondered vaguely if any of his friends would even recognise him now. “So can I stay, or do I have to sneak out in the middle of the night?”

Taylor arched an eyebrow at him, and grinned.

“Oh, I reckon you could talk yourself into stayin’,” Taylor purred, “it’s not every day you get to keep a cowboy in bed.”

Nathan had never slept so well in his entire life.

*

“Please tell me I don’t have to try and ride that?”

Taylor stared out into the paddock where Cayman was kicking up his heels and snickering, happy to have his human back. Nathan laughed and jumped the fence, whistling to the big stallion for his attention. When Cayman began to gallop towards him, Taylor gasped, hands over his mouth, and Nathan knew the man was convinced he would be run over. The appaloosa came to sliding stop ten inches away from Nathan’s boots, and the big cowboy began to rub his horse’s head and ears, murmuring to him wordlessly.

“Taylor, this is Cayman. Cay, this is Taylor: come say hi.” The horse followed him automatically to the fence, and Taylor nervously put a hand out for the big equine to nuzzle. “Don’t worry babe, he ain’t gonna eat you.”

“He’s huge.”

“He’s a big lad,” Nathan grinned, “c’mon, let’s get you kitted out for a little ride, eh?”

Nathan had been sort of surprised when Taylor had walked into the kitchen in blue jeans and a checked shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He had nearly looked like he could belong in Nathan’s truck, except that he was wearing trainers. Nathan had laughed happily, and handed his lover the spare pair of western boots from the back of his truck. He didn’t have any problem being seen with Taylor; but the shoes would never have survived the day.

Nathan pulled one of his favourite stock horses for Taylor to ride, a bulky palomino quarter horse named Wrangler, who was sharp and well trained enough to keep his inexperienced rider feeling confident. Taylor got to know his horse, walking around the outside of the biggest of the sand floor arenas, while Nathan warmed Cayman up, and then flew around a course of barrels before doing some reining work. He knew he was showing off, but he kept his gaze fixed firmly between Cayman’s ears as the horse spun in the dust of his own hoof prints as fast as he could.

“That’s amazing, y’know?”

“Thanks,” Nathan let them out of the arena, and clicked to both horses as they began to make their way out towards the long fields, away from the busy work of the yard. Nathan had nodded to a couple of the hands, but he hadn’t seen his father, and he wanted to keep it that way. “Mostly it’s Cayman; he’s such a good lad.”

“An’ who trained him?” Taylor arched an eyebrow.

“I did.” Nathan smiled to himself, and rubbed his steed’s shoulder. “If you don’t have a connection with a horse, everything else will be missin’ too. It’s different if you’re jus’ gonna sit an’ hack out – then it’s OK. But I don’t get rodeo cowboys who expect the same from half a dozen horses. I only ride others ‘cause it’s my job.”

“Well, what do you wanna do?”

“Ride around all day?” Nathan grinned happily, “this is as good as it gets in my line a’ work.”

“So… you’ll start your own ranch?”

Nathan shook his head and clicked to Cayman, but the horse was already leading them down towards the path which would come out at the creek.

“Nah, I’ll inherit this one. Has been a Cole running’ this ranch fer near enough a hundred years. An’ I’ll be puttin’ up with shit from ma pop up until the day he dies.” Nathan sighed sadly; he knew there was no way, even after his old man retired, that he would let Nathan actually make the decisions without them being questioned, despite the fact his son had been trading and striking his own deals since he was eighteen. As long as he was alive, his father would always judge him. “If he knew… even half of the things I’d said, done… about therapy, about me an’ you,” Nathan exhaled until he felt a little bit dizzy, and Cayman flicked back an ear and shifted his weight, checking if his rider was alright, “I don’t think he’d disown me; he’d probably shoot me first.”

“Jesus…” Taylor looked shocked, “let’s hope it don’t come to that: you wouldn’t look so hot with holes through you.”

“No, but you’d look better with more dust on ya. HA!” Nathan didn’t even need to touch his heels to Cayman’s sides, because the horse knew, and even though the canter probably felt madly out of control to Taylor, the fresh wind was just what Nathan needed.

They tied the horses up by the creek, letting them stand and graze in the short grass, and Nathan pulled his lover down into the wintery scrub on the bank, knowing there was no one around for miles to see or hear them. He stroked Taylor’s hair, its natural wave more pronounced the more he ran his fingers through it, and they kissed for what felt like hours. Nathan couldn’t hear anything other than the soft sounds of the horses, and the ripple of the water a few yards away. Getting lost in the undemanding sweetness of Taylor’s lips was heavenly. It was at one and the same time like the most wondrous surge of joy, and a kick in the chest, because Nathan realised if he’d been less like his father, he could have had something this good all along.

*

Nathan stared at his reflection in the rear view mirror, took off his favourite black felt hat, combed his hair with his fingers and put it back on again. He didn’t think he looked any different, though Taylor said he did, and now he wondered if even the sight of him was enough to set his poor reputation in stone. He really hoped it wasn’t.

“Nervous?” Taylor squeezed his shoulder, and then ran his palm down Nathan’s denim-clad thigh.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure they’ll be there?”

Nathan nodded, even though he hadn’t actually stopped questioning himself and the stupidity of this idea in the mirror.

“Oh yeah. It’s a Friday night in the sticks outside a’ Lockhart, Texas. Ain’t nowhere else they’ll be than in a hay field with a fire, a truck, and a cooler full of ice and beer.”

“Sounds like the stuff from songs,” Taylor replied happily, “let’s go.”

It had taken a little digging, but Nathan had cornered his next youngest sister to get a location for the party. They had never hung out with exactly the same crowd, but Nathan knew it was never a secret where they were going, and she’d been able to tell him it was most likely all his old friends were sitting with their trucks in one of Jimmy’s fields. That meant they were more likely in the scrub land next door, and by the time the looming shadow of the disused grain silo had come into view, Nathan knew he was right, because there was a tell-tale fiery glow that had nothing to do with the setting sun. He parked up his huge Chevy truck just outside of the circle of light and music, and was incredibly happy when Taylor stepped down from the cab, came close, and took his hand. Nathan squeezed him silently: speaking to his friends again was a scarier prospect than going to meet his therapist for the first time.

There they were, sat around the fire, on tail gates and hay bales, some standing chatting, some dancing already in the firelight, all drinking from solo-cups or long necked bottles. Most of them Nathan had known near enough his entire life: Jimmy, Billy-Rae, Madison, Tyler, Josh, and Susie. Once upon a time Nathan would have just walked in and taken over, encouraged everyone else to drink too hard because he knew his tolerance was higher than theirs, and boasted about his truck, but not now. Now, even though he was still unseen, he was looking across the fire at a pair of figures chatting happily, giggling over some private joke and sharing their drinks. Clem Linton looked happy, relaxed, and exactly like he belonged exactly where he was. His boyfriend Ashlee was as different from him as could be: exotic, strange, beautiful in a delicate way Nathan had only ever associated before with girls, but he too fitted exactly as though there had been an Ashlee shaped hole right next to Clem, and the pretty boy had just stepped in to fill it. Nathan knew exactly what he wanted to say to them, but he had no idea how to say it.

“Start with a deep breath,” Taylor gripped his hand tightly, “it’ll be alright. I’m here for you.”

Nathan nodded, and with the world’s most long overdue apology on his lips, the cowboy stepped forwards. If nothing else, Nathan Cole knew he meant it, because he was a better man now than he’d ever been before. Clem looked up at him across the fire, Ashlee did too, and Nathan followed his lover’s advice.

He hoped, once again, that Taylor was right.