Chris Owen

Rain

Jake figured his luck was running just about right when he felt the truck start to slide. The hay was in, the sky was dark, the rain was coming, and he was going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with a blown tire. Seemed like some things just kept happening to him, though the last time he’d blown a tire in the rain he’d at least been on the road.

 

No, it was Tor who usually got stuck in the middle of a field. Maybe things were changing. Maybe this time he’d get the tire changed and get going toward home before the sky opened up. Just maybe he should radio ahead and tell someone where he was.

 

He managed to control the skid as the truck slid sideways down a gentle slope and he shut off the engine, his breath barely speeding. This wouldn’t be too bad, so long as those clouds held on. With one hand he reached for the radio, and with the other he reached over to check behind the seat for the jack.

 

Jake didn’t start swearing until he got only static on the radio and his hand met nothing but a blanket and a first aid kit. Perfect.

 

Climbing out of the truck was easy enough, and seeing that he’d lost not one but two tires was the icing on the cake. When the rumble of thunder turned into the patter of rain Jake just looked up at the sky and sighed.

 

It took him no time at all to realize he was stuck until someone found him. Two tires gone was one more than he could even hope to deal with, and with the storm landing fast there was nothing for him to do but get back in the cab and wait.

 

Boring. Beyond boring, really. There was nothing to do, nothing to see, and only the lightening charges changed the sound of the static he coaxed out of the radio. After some rummaging he found three road flares under the seat, so he lit one and set it out on the only available rock, but after that... boring.

 

It took him two hours to fall asleep. The only thing that he knew for sure was that he’d be missed and someone would be looking -- it was a perk of owning the ranch. He disappeared, someone would know. Hell, his dog would let the world know right about supper time. So he slept, knowing full well that Elias or Tommy or Bobby would be by, if not Tor. He was hoping for Tor, and as he drifted off to sleep listening to the rain his head was full of memories of a different storm, one that had him wetter than this.

 

Or maybe not. For a moment he thought the cab of the truck was leaking, but as he came fully awake he heard a low growl, the sound of a very unhappy man. Jake peered into the suddenly bright cab, lit by the dome light, and stifled a grin as Tor climbed in, soaking wet and dripping all over.

 

“This is getting old, Taggart. Rain just doesn’t work for us, does it?”

 

Jake stretched and turned a little so he could grab the blanket from behind the seat. “Oh, I don’t know. The lightening is pretty, and when you peel off that gear and get wrapped up in this you’ll be practically naked. Sounds okay to me.”

 

Tor snorted. “Only you would get turned on by a busted truck. What’s wrong this time?”

 

“Blew two tires, radio’s not working. You’re still dressed.” Jake slid across the seat and started working on buttons while Tor raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Jesus, Jake. What’s gotten into you?” Tor honestly looked a little surprised at Jake’s unsubtle advances, but he didn’t try to stop Jake from stripping off his coat and shirt.

 

Jake shrugged, one hand sliding over Tor’s chilly stomach. “Does it matter? Just be glad we’re not having a mud fight.”

 

Tor grinned and grabbed at Jake’s hand, shoving it lower, to his fly. “That mud fight had its moments.”

 

“Mmm. It did indeed. But really, can’t we just get to the blow jobs without the mess this time?” Jake decided he really did hate wet denim, Tor’s jeans were proving damn near impossible to budge.

 

Tor lifted up, trying to push his jeans down and kick off his boots at the same time. When Jake looked up at him, Tor’s face was warm with laughter instead of disgruntled at the storm and he felt a wash of affection go through him. Tor really was beautiful, even wet and bedraggled like this. Jake rolled his eyes at himself.

 

“What?” Tor asked. “Giving up so soon? You’re getting old, cowboy. Used to be you’d lay back in the muck and jerk off for me.”

 

“Once. I did that once. And I had mud in my ass for far too long after that, thank you very much.” Jake was laughing, though, and wrapping the blanket around Tor’s shoulders, curling into his heat.

 

“I did thank you, didn’t I?” Tor teased. “Repeatedly. In fact, seeing as how I believe it’s me rescuing you this time, I’m owed the thanks this time.”

 

Jake grinned and burrowed under Tor’s blanket, finding one nipple with his mouth. “Yeah?” Lick. “What do you have in mind?” Bite. Lick.

 

Tor hissed and leaned back a little. “That’ll do for a start.”

 

Jack chuckled softly and started to pay very close attention to that nipple, his hand coasting lower to Tor’s lap and gathering up the semi-hard shaft he found, stroking his prize carefully as it grew in his hand.

 

Tor whimpered.

 

Jake loved it when Tor whimpered.

 

Things sped up a bit after that, Tor’s whimpers turning into gasps and moans and Jake’s hums of approval becoming deeper, a caress of their own around Tor’s cock as he sucked and teased and licked, fingers sliding over Tor’s thighs, his belly, his balls. He loved the feeling of Tor growing harder in his mouth, it was possibly one of the hottest things Jake could think of.

 

“Suck me, Jake,” Tor murmured, his hands sliding through Jake’s hair.

 

Okay, that was pretty hot, too, Tor talking to him, watching him with hooded eyes, his hips starting to shift restlessly. Jake moaned a little himself, twisting his hips so he wasn’t about to do damage to himself. He feasted on Tor’s prick, working hard to take as much as he could and licking where he couldn’t. He sucked and kissed, taking Tor deep and then barely taking in the leaking head.

 

Yeah, he could make Tor crazy. Crazier than things has been that first time, anyway. Now he knew what made Tor scream, what made him come. Now he knew the taste of this man as well as he knew the sound of his own name. It had taken a while, but Jake was pretty sure he’d managed to just about memorize this man.

 

Strong fingers were tangled in his hair and he could hear Tor starting to pant above him, whispered words starting to slur as they grew louder. Jake didn’t pay much attention to what Tor was saying -- variations on the ‘oh God, yeah’ theme -- but he did listen to the tone, the note of desperation creeping in around the edges and the sharp stab of need threaded through.

 

Christ, he loved this.

 

“Jake,” Tor groaned, the note of ‘desperate’ turning to ‘just about to pop’.

 

Jake grinned and sat up, squeezing hard at the base of Tor’s prick to stop him from coming.

 

“Bastard!” Tor groaned, almost curling into himself. “What the hell are you doing?”

 

Jake didn’t answer, just ripped his jeans open with one hand and lunged for the first aid kit. There had to be something in there, some kind of cream, or salve or just... something. And if there wasn’t? Well, Tor’d taken him on just spit and a prayer before.

 

Tor stopped grumbling and started helping, pulling at Jake’s clothes with a single minded determination that was actually pretty flattering in its urgency. Between the two of them they managed to get Jake as naked as Tor with a minimum of bumped elbows and bruised hips, laughing between kisses about how making out in a truck was still not the most comfortable way to get laid.

 

“But it’s still getting laid, yeah, and that ain’t a bad thing,” Jake declared, slapping Tor on the ass. “Now, shift around, cowboy.”

 

Tor gave a low moan as he turned, pulling his legs up under him so he could kneel on the bench seat, facing the window. “Gonna be the death of me, Jake. If the fucking doesn’t kill me, the fear of going through the window will.”

 

Jake unceremoniously shoved two fingers in Tor’s ass. “Won’t let you do that, promise.”

 

Tor just groaned again, pushing his hips back.

 

Lightening streaked the sky and Jake blinked at the sudden light, the flash illuminating the body curled up in front up him, making Tor seem almost untouchable, white and dark with tan lines. The light made him look sharp and angular, but the feeling of soft heat around him belied the impression, reminded him of how breathtaking Tor could be.

 

He couldn’t wait, couldn’t make this last any longer, need making him throb and ache. He buried his cock in Tor’s ass with a short grunt, and pushed deep, his hands curling around Tor’s hips to hold him still.

 

“Oh, God,” Tor whispered. “God.”

 

“Taggart. Not God.”

 

“Fuck me hard, Jake. Make me howl.” Tor’s voice was hoarse, the words almost lost in the rumble of thunder.

 

Jake did. Long and hard and deep, without finess or rhythm, just pounding into Tor for stroke after stroke. Jake could hear his own heart beating, keeping time with his breath, and he could see the sheen of dampness across Tor’s back. When he licked at Tor’s spine he could taste the salt of sweat, the green flavor of the rain, and the exotic mix made his gut twist.

 

One hand slid down to Tor’s groin, pulling at the rock hard length which stood proudly away from Tor’s body, the soft keening moan coming from Tor’s throat the only indication he had that Tor was still with him and not lost on some plane of bliss somewhere. Or maybe they were both lost, fire creeping up their spines, ready to erupt.

 

Jake didn’t have a lot of warning before Tor came, just an indrawn hiss of air into Tor’s lungs and then Tor was shaking below him, the smell of his come suddenly strong in the cab of the truck, the tight muscles around Jake’s dick suddenly spasming.

 

Jake lost what little control he had, his hand now sticky as he smeared come into Tor’s skin. He could barely breathe for the pressure building in him, the sound of Tor gasping and praying and muttering loud in his ears.

 

He slammed into Tor again and again, driving himself closer, and then suddenly Tor shifted, bringing his arms up to brace himself on the truck door and pushing back, hard. That little bit deeper, that little bit more effort made Jake scream, made him come deep in Tor’s ass with a near shout of pleasure as the rain suddenly drove harder against the truck, a swell of feeling moving around and through him.

 

He finally fell forward across Tor’s back, panting and petting. “Jesus,” he breathed.

 

“Nope, just me,” Tor said with a breathless laugh. “God damn, Jake. Told you that you’d kill me. I’m all melty now. Never gonna move again.”

 

Jake felt his heart beating rapidly against Tor’s back, still racing. “Gonna have to. Got a horse to ride back home, yeah?” And the thought of Tor settling into the saddle with his ass feeling the way it surely did almost stirred some guilt.

 

“No horse. Drove,” Tor panted, moving away just enough for Jake to slip out. “Thought you might get like this, and I ain’t stupid.”

 

Jake blinked slowly. “So why’re you so wet?”

 

“Parked up on the road; you slid a ways, baby.” Tor pushed him to sit up and then they were curled up, mostly upright with the blanket around them, looking out the fogged up windshield. “But we got time. Watch the storm for a bit, yeah?”

 

Jake almost purred. Watching the storm sounded just fine to him.

Sometimes love is complicated. 

Copyright 2016 Chris Owen