Monday, March 29, 2010

Little Beau and Sam story, just for y'all! NOT WORK SAFE!!!

Here's a wee story of Beau and Sam from File Gumbo, just to make y'all smile.

File Gumbo: Season One is out from Torquere Press. :D

Sam was damned tired of hotel food and little bars of soap and having folks crawling up his butt every time he went for a walk. They had a bye for next weekend and he was taking them home.

Home to Louisiana, damn it.

It was springtime and the Indian paintbrushes'd be up and it wouldn't be fucking snowing like it was here in South fucking Dakota and Beau'd cook beans and rice.


"Get up. We gotta get to the airport. We got a flight this afternoon." He kicked the bed, watched Beau flip over and groan. Somebody'd been playing quarters with Ricky Boudreaux and Nate last night.

Those light eyes was bloodshot as hell, Beau blinking at him, one hand up to ward off the light. "What?"

"I want to go home. I got us a flight to DFW."

"Oh." Beau blinked at him for a few more seconds, before groaning and closing his eyes again. "My head might explode at ten thousand feet, Poot."

"We'll make sure you keep your hat on." He started packing them, ordering up room service and starting a pot of coffee.

"Nah, then I'd squash it all up. I'll just hide behind you." Beau spread out, almost like he was swimming a backstroke, stretching.

"Now that sounds promising." He always let Beau have the window. Always.

"You get me enough aspirin and coffee, I might even be able to make good on a promise like that." He got a little smile, Beau's eyes staying closed.

"The coffee'll be ready in two shakes of a dead lamb's tail." He reached down, caught one of Beau's feet in his hand and rubbed a little, working the foot round and round.

"Mmnuh." He could see the tight muscles start to relax, Beau humming for him.

"I was thinking, Boug, you could make gumbo for me, when we got home. It's been awhile."

"Yeah?" Scratching his belly, Beau seemed to think on that. "You don't think I'm a bad cook, right? You ain't saying that to be nice?" They had this argument all the time.

"I know you ain't a bad cook. Just 'cause there are some cowboys who can't hold their peppers." He had a stomach like a cast-iron Dutch oven with a seasoned lid.

"Yeah." One eye popped open, peering at him fondly. "I like it hot."

Now, that was something he knew, bone-deep. "Me too. I been wanting beans and rice and to go have a fried steak."

"Oh." That actually had Beau sitting up. "We could spend the night in Dallas..."

"Uh-huh." Hell, they could have themselves a little bit of fun in the Big D.

"Cool." Finally getting upright, Beau grabbed the coffee he handed over, burying his nose in it.

He nodded, gathering up clothes and shit, packing away, humming under his breath.

Beau sipped coffee, finally hauling ass out of bed and wandering around. It was damned funny, how disorganized the man could be when he was hung over. Every time he got close enough, he got a handful of cowboy butt, squeezing.

By the third time around, Beau had drunk a full cup of coffee, and was starting to wiggle against his hands.

It was a good thing, that little bulldog walk stuttering, pushing against him.

"You trying to start something, Poot?" Beau finally asked, grinning over one shoulder at him.

"Huh?" He went for innocent - it worked sometimes, if Beau was hung over enough.

"You're poking and pushing. Huh? You get me in the shower, I might be able to play." That bright grin made him hot.

"It'd relax us both for the plane ride." He tugged Beau's butt in, letting his hips cradle.

Beau leaned into him, humming a little, rocking back and forth.

"I got you." He rubbed Beau's lower back, thumbs pushing in and massaging.

"Fuck. Yeah, Poot. That feels good." Uh-huh. Because Beau never went out drinking with the boys, he wasn't hurtin' some.

"You're all tied in knots." He pressed harder - both with his hands and his cock.

"Yeah. Must have zigged when I should have zagged, huh? You're all hard." That butt pushed back hard, his cock sliding against Beau's crease,

"I been watching your heinie all morning, Boug." That tight little butt gave him a serious happy.

"Such a long time." Laughing, Beau swayed with him. Almost dancing. "Let's get in the shower so we can go have a night out, huh?"

"You got it, Boug." He leaned in, patted the man's butt. Anything, so long as they got to go home.

They hit the tile, both of them trying to get into the shower at the same time, knocking the crap out of each other instead. Beau cussed, then laughed, swinging around to kiss him hard. Oh, hello.

He pushed in, that rock-solid body feeling good against him, making him just about hard as a rock.

"Sam. Gonna get rid of that hangover for sure." Yep. Beau always said physical activity burned off alcohol related shit.

"Uh-huh. Gonna make you happy." He nipped Beau's bottom lip, thumb tracing one thick scar.

"Promise?" Those pretty eyes flashed right up to his, Beau smiling all over.

"Yup." He leaned in, lips pushing against Beau's, tongue sliding right on in to taste.

He got a muffled affirmative sound, Beau's arms winding about his neck, so they pressed close from head to heels.

Their cocks lined right up, Beau's hot and thick, sliding from his balls up to the tip.

Beau's head fell back, his mouth open, those hips rolling. Oh, yeah. Look at those muscles flex.

He could watch that for hours. Days. Years.

Beau touched him, hands sliding up and down his back, grinning hard. "Feeling better already, man."

"Good to hear." He licked at that smile, jonesing on it.

"Should be. Means I won't drool on the airplane." Oh, man. No one liked a drooler.

He chuckled. "I'd just move to the aisle seat."

"Ornery bastard." Beau kissed his chin, his cheek, then his mouth, little sucking, biting touches.

"You know it." Beau hit a hot spot and he went up on tiptoe.

"I like it that way. Even if you do wake me up too damned early and book flights at the ass-crack of dawn." Rubbing up on him, Beau sent him leaning back against the shower wall.

"Uh-huh. I just want our bed. Our house. The horses. The dogs." Fucking.

Lots of fucking.

"Uh-huh. Kiss me again, Poot." Beau was laughing, but not mean or nothin'. Just agreeing with him.

"Yeah." He dragged that hungry mouth close, fucking Beau's lips with all he was.

They rocked together, Beau's hand finally pushing down to close around his cock, pulling up and down. The running water and soap gave them a little slick; the calluses gave them friction.

His hand joined Beau's, fingers pulling that fat cock in next to his. Hell, yeah. That was better.

"Sam. Oh, fuck. That's good."

Beau was just grinning at him like a fool, kissing him randomly.

"Uh-huh." He kissed that grin; he couldn't help himself.

Beau groaned, rocking and rolling like they were on the best ride of their lives, the hangover seeming to be all gone. Suited him to the bone.

They pressed their foreheads together, staring as their hands moved faster and faster.

Beau finally went off for him like a firecracker, grunting, hips snapping. Yeah. Shit, look at that.

"Uhn." He went up on his tiptoes, hips jerking. Yeah. Yeah, he was fixin' to...

Beau's fingers squeezed, tightening around him, thumbs rubbing the slit. Pulling hard, Beau gave him just what he needed, pushing down, pulling back, hands nudging his balls.

"Oh." His toes curled and that was all she wrote, heat spraying from him, his hips jerking restlessly.

"Goddamn, that's the best way to shake a hangover, Poot. Look at you." Beau sounded all better.

"I'm one talented motherfucker, huh?"

"You are. Good thing you're mine." Leaning, Beau just kinda draped over him, yawning a little.

"Mmhmm. Let's go home, Boug. I need to be real for a little while."

"You know it. I'm sure we got loads of work to do, too." Pulling away, Beau turned off the water and got them towels, moving along now instead of staggering, like before.

"Yep. We always do." That was part of the good stuff, part of being cowboys.

"Think we got any of that rain?" Watching Beau dry off and get dressed and pack was part of the good, too.

"I hope so. We leased that acreage for hay." He grabbed his traveling jeans.

"Yeah. Lord, I forgot all about that." That ancient LSU hoodie looked damned fine on Beau, even as ratty as it was.

"Yeah. Dell Junior called, said we've got five new calves and a colt on the way." Wallet. Hat. Watch. Where was his belt?

His belt appeared, dangling from Beau's fingers. Someone was just as ready as he was.

"Thanks." Okay, it was time to blow this popsicle stand.

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