hotaustinnights

Hot Austin Nights

By Kate Roman

In the middle of March, Rochester, New York was

gray and gritty and filled with the unappetizing vision of
dirty, melting snow. But as far as Dan Erickson could
tell, the sun-drenched party in Austin, Texas went on all
year round.

Too bad he was only there for a week of it.
Although, Dan thought, watching his roommate

Jordan stick his tongue down the throat of a tiny blond
twink in a muscle shirt, if tonight was any indication,
Austin was just like Rochester in one very important
way: Dan found himself alone.

Not for want of company. Sitting at the bar in

Rainbow  Club  sipping  a  cosmopolitan,  Dan  knew  he
could  easily  go  home  with  at  least  two  -- no,  he
corrected,  looking  quickly  back  down  at  the  sweet
cocktail, three different men all giving him the eye in the
middle of the packed and throbbing nightclub.

A suave, sophisticated, and in-tune performer belted

out Donna Summers' "Bad Girls" as Dan took stock. The
big, bearded bear in the corner was a given, and a too-
eager Ed Norton-lookalike shaking his ass in the middle
of the dance floor kept eyeing Dan like the last truffle in
the  box.  Then  there  was  the  silver-haired  fox  staring
from down the other end of the bar. Dan knew that look.
It  was,  he  thought,  pushing  his  unfinished  cocktail
toward  the  bartender  apologetically,  the  same  look  a
rabbit got from every owl, eagle, and falcon. It only took
one  brush  with  a  pair  of  talons  to  know  when  to  go  to
ground.

Dan slid off his stool and shouldered his way toward

the exit, leaving Jordan to make his own way back to the
hotel, with or without the evening's too-young, too-
eager, too-stoned-out-of-his-gourd little twink.

Dan looked up at the wide Texas sky outside the

club's elwire-lined door. Jordan would be headed back
to their hotel room at speed, Dan well knew, wearing a
guy who'd wake up sore and sorry in a few more hours.
Dan wanted no part of it. The night was young, and he
was a thousand miles from home, in a city that beat with
a rainbow heart. So why was he feeling so alone?

With a sigh, he turned down South Congress and

headed toward the river, walking briskly. The sweet
night air, warm and humid, pressed against his skin like
a kiss, or a really good massage. Likely the only one he
was liable to get on this trip, Dan thought.

The trip had seemed like such a great idea, back in

Rochester.  The  campus  was  buried  under  three  feet  of
snow, and the last-minute tickets were priced too low to
pass  up.  And  truth  be  told,  it  had  been  a  while  on  the
man  front.  Rochester,  university  and  town,  were  too
small  to  offer  more  than  a  couple  of  one-night  stands,
and Dan didn't figure that grad school was the best time
to start anything serious. Besides, he could never picture
himself staying up north much beyond graduation.

Dan had no idea how long he walked, his gaze

constantly  straying  to  the  Colorado  River  and  the
twinkling  neon  lights  reflected  on  its  dark  surface.  He
kept  going,  one  foot  in  front  of  the  other  on  the  pale
concrete until he became aware of a glow creeping over
skyline.  Turning,  Dan  beheld  a  truly  awe-inspiring
sunrise.  As  the  sun  inched  its  way  over  the  horizon,  it
stained the immense sky an array of vivid colors -- lilac,
peach, indigo, salmon -- and Dan stopped and leaned on
the balustrade above the river, captivated.

"Impressive, ain't it?"
Dan spun, alarmed, but the speaker seemed similarly

fixated on the sunrise. Taking in muscular legs, a thick,
firm torso in a red-plaid shirt, all of it capped off with a
wide-brimmed Stetson, Dan stared, forgetting to speak.

"Yeah, I get it, man, I really do. I've seen it hundreds

of times; still takes my breath away, every time, you
know?"

Dan found his voice with difficulty. "I've never seen

anything like it."

"Me neither." The stranger chuckled. "Keeps me here

in Texas, no matter what else happens. I couldn't ever be
anyplace I couldn't see somethin' like this."

"I'd feel spoiled, knowing it was around every day."
"I hear ya. Such a beautiful place." The stranger

turned, and Dan's breath caught in his throat. As he

came closer, Dan made out a firm jaw stubbled with five
o'clock shadow, olive skin, and pale blue eyes under the
Stetson's brim. "Such good-lookin' company."

They were alone, the riverside promenade deserted,

partygoers fled long before the dawn. The two of them
took a moment to size each other up.

"You ready?"
Dan faltered. Maybe Texas boys were more forward

than up north. "Was I supposed to be?"

The stranger grinned. "No one ever is, man. No one

ever is."

Dan took a step back. "I think maybe there's been a

mistake--"

"Ssh!" The stranger held up a finger, his voice

dropping to a whisper. "Ssh! Here they come."

Looking around wildly, Dan saw no one. The two of

them were alone by the side of the wide, calm river. Dan
dropped his gaze to the water, sweeping it for some clue.
The Colorado River kept its secrets, silver-blue,
mesmerizing, and even.

Then the dawn exploded, sky darkening with wings

like a thousand pounding heartbeats, clouding out the
light.

Dan ducked instinctively, grasping the stone parapet

of  the  walkway  as  wingbeats  filled  the  air  around  and
above  him.  Hundreds  of  bats  appeared  in  a  steady
stream,  black  wings  flapping  urgently  as  they  banked
against  the  pale,  lightening  sky.  The  sun  was  barely
clinging  to  the  horizon's  lip,  but  the  ambient  light  was
more  than  enough  for  Dan  to  make  out  the  myriad  of
tiny creatures soaring on the dawn currents, dipping and
diving  against  the  thin,  thready  clouds.  All  of  them
headed  for  their  home  beneath  the  bridge,  needing  to
wait  out  the  sun  and  heat  of  the  day,  until  the  night
returned.

As Dan watched, awestruck, the many became one

long coordinated stream, and they banked at the exact
same place in the sky, diving in unison toward the water.
He hung over the edge of the parapet, watching as the
flow of bats disappeared beneath the bridge.

The stream finally lessened, stragglers carving wide

arcs  on  their  way  under  the  bridge,  one  by  one,  until
they had all disappeared, and all Dan could hear was the
urgent  horn  of  some  early  motorist,  trapped  in  the  city
blocks  behind  him.  Eventually,  Dan  rose,  staring  and
wide-eyed, then bent over the parapet's ornate edge. But
morning  had  broken,  the  sun  casting  pale  lemon  rays
over  the  water  and  over  Dan  and  his  companion.
Straightening up, he caught the stranger watching.

"First time?" The cowboy hooked his fingers in his

belt-loops and sauntered slowly in Dan's direction, an
amused expression on his handsome face.

Dan blushed, suddenly aware of his overly bright

club outfit. The soft cream linen shirt he wore over the
skin-tight yellow tank top had set off the pale blue jeans
to perfection under a club's flashing, multicolored lights,
but under the morning's strengthening sunshine, Dan felt
tawdry. But the cowboy's light eyes fixed him with an
open expression. No judgment, only curiosity. And, if
Dan wasn't mistaken, interest.

"That was amazing," Dan looked from the handsome

cowboy to the river and back. "Amazing. I've never seen
anything like it."

"I hate the city, you know? But I make myself come

here every so often, just so I'm reminded of them. Just
so I get to see them one more time."

"I had no idea. How long have they been here?"
"Every day, sunset they leave, sunrise they return.

Like clockwork. Right here in the middle of a city. It's

hard to believe, so I make myself come here and see it
with my own eyes."

"It's not every day you see something wild and

beautiful among so much..." Dan gestured.

"You get it. I thought you would." The cowboy

tipped his hat, then stuck out his hand. "Cord Delgado."

The handshake was strong, the palm calloused and a

surge of electricity shot through Dan at the touch. He
found his voice with difficulty. "Dan Erickson.
Pleasure."

Cord smiled, not letting go of Dan's hand. "Well, now

you've seen the sights, Dan, you wanna grab some
breakfast?"

Dan looked at Cord curiously. That hadn't been the

invitation he'd been expecting. But with his hand in
Cord's, the electricity still surging around them, it wasn't
one he was about to turn down.

***

Cord took him to Juan in a Million, an open-air taco

stand farther down South Congress, away from the river.
While Cord ordered for them both, Dan's eyes lingered
on a six-foot-tall fiberglass rabbit sculpture mounted on
the  flat  roof  of  an  upscale  boutique.  A  small  bird-like
woman  unlocked  the  glass  front  doors  of  the  shop,
propping them wide open, nudging a brick doorstop into
place. She tossed long blonde hair over one shoulder and
waved  at  a  middle-aged  man  dressed  all  in  black,
opening  a  store  that  appeared  to  specialize  in,  if  Dan's
eyes did not deceive him, framed fingernail art. A whole
gallery of it. Dan shook his head, watching Cord stride
toward the picnic table Dan'd commandeered, breakfast
in both hands.

With Cord back on the scene, Dan had no desire to

look at anything else.

He scarfed down the spicy eggs, pepper, and tomato.

The  food  was  good  -- light  years  better  than  anything
Dan  had  found  in  upstate  New  York  -- but  Dan's  full
attention  was  taken  up  by  the  handsome  cowboy
enthusiastically  eating  across  from  him.  "Food  okay?"
Cord asked, chewing.

Dan nodded. "Delicious. Not to sound ridiculous but,

you come here often?"

"This taco stand, or Austin in general?" Cord grinned

around a mouthful of burrito. "I'm from further south,
but I come up to the city whenever I get the chance.
What Austin does, it does real well. This breakfast's one
of them."

Relaxing, Dan took another bite. "What else does it

do?"

"Mmm... margaritas, for sure. Barbecue -- but that's a

Texas thing. Ain't nowhere over the state line makes
barbecue worth a damn. And, if you're a lonely cowhand
like myself, looking for a little company, well, Austin's
the only thing going."

Aha, Dan thought. He was relieved he hadn't read

Cord's signals wrong. "But surely wherever you are,
there's... something around."

"Not in Burton there ain't. It's a little town about

halfway between here and the coast. Population 359 and
falling."

"Oh. I see. A little tiny town where everybody

knows--"

"Everything you'd rather they didn't. You got it, man.

Sounds like you've got some experience there yourself."

"Rochester, New York."
"Any particular reason?"

"Grad school. Just like a small town, but all your

neighbors are out to take your job and steal your
research."

Cord snorted. "Sounds awful. Worth it?"
Dan tilted his head, considering. "Ask me again when

it's time to defend my thesis." He waved his free hand,
reaching for a napkin. "But tell me more about Burton."

Cord shrugged. "Steady work, but no company, you

know? Texas is a lot of things, a lot of real damn
important things. A place where a man can lose his past
and make his own future through nothing but the sweat
of his brow, a state full of wide open spaces where the
silence can make you lose your mind, or find it maybe,
and the best damn thing that can happen to a lot of folks,
myself included. But it's also a place where..." Cord
paused.

"A place where it's not easy to find company," Dan

finished. He wiped his mouth on a paper napkin,
dropping the remnants of the tortilla on the paper plate.
"A place where you can get lonely too easy."

Cord looked out across the four-lane road. "Lonely's

something you tend to take inside you wherever you go,
you know?"

Dan froze. He hadn't realized until Cord said it, but

that's exactly how lonely was. At least how it was for
Dan. Rochester, Austin, every place seemed the same
sometimes: everybody having fun but him. Dan made a
decision. Before he could think the better of it, he took
Cord's hand. "Maybe sometimes lonely's something you
can put down for a few hours."

Cord pulled his hand away with a quick look around,

and Dan's heart leapt to his throat. Had he misread the
signals?

Cord sighed. He slowly put his hand back in Dan's,

thumb caressing Dan's skin, hot and firm.

***

Cord got them a room at the Hotel Ivy, a neon and

ivy-drenched  hipster  oasis  complete  with  life-size
statues  of  Elvis,  Hunter  S.  Thompson,  and  Bruce
Campbell.  Dan  noticed  these  only  briefly  as  Cord
hurried him across the courtyard, lips and hands seeking,
demanding. And Dan gave it to him in spades.

If the touch of Cord's hand had set Dan alight, the

feel of Cord's lips nearly buckled his knees. Cord
mouthed his way wetly down Dan's neck, making him
fumble getting the key in the door to their hotel room.

Cord kicked the door closed behind them,

unwavering  in  his  devotion  to  kissing  and  mouthing
every available inch of Dan's skin. Dan groaned as Cord
moved over his body, clawing at his shirt, pulling it free
of  the  tight  jeans.  They  both  moaned  as  Cord's  hands
skated  over  the  sensitive  skin  of  Dan's  stomach.  Dan
wrenched at Cord's big belt buckle. He got it open at the
same time Cord drew his teeth down Dan's neck.

Dan threw his head back and whimpered. Cord

yanked the flimsy tank top off and tossed it into a corner
of the room.

Cord pushed Dan down onto the bed, sliding over his

chest, worrying his nipple between sharp white teeth as
Dan  arched,  hands  clutching  at  Cord's  shoulders,
clawing  at  him.  "Please,"  Dan  whispered,  and  Cord
licked  at  the  bitten  nipple,  a  cool  breeze  from  the  air
conditioner soothing the wet skin. Dan grabbed at Cord,
pushing his shirt down off Cord's shoulders; the buttons
caught,  and  Dan  whined,  scrabbling  at  the  neckline.
Cord pushed himself up off Dan and tore the shirt open,
shoving  it  down  and  off.  Dan  peered  up  at  the  thick,
silky  hair  covering  Cord's  torso.  He  ran  his  hands  up
Cord's stomach with a soft murmur of appreciation, then

Cord dove onto him, bearing him down against the bed,
tearing at his jeans.

Cord leaned up and kissed Dan, long and hard,

lighting a fire deep at the base of his spine. Dan put his
arms around Cord, pulling the lean cowboy down on top
of  him  with  a  smothered  groan.  Cord  rocked  his  hips
against  Dan  with  a  low  growl,  and  Dan  wriggled,
working  the  jeans  down  over  his  thighs  and  knees,
desperate to spread his legs around Cord's slim hips.

"Dan," Cord murmured, "need you so much. Oh Dan,

yes." Cord's bare stomach was warm against Dan's own,
hard  and  already  damp  with  sweat  in  the  hot  Texas
morning.  His  shoulders  were  strong,  arms  hard  and
unyielding  as  Dan  bucked  and  thrust  against  Cord's
denim-clad erection, whining softly.

They kicked Dan's jeans down past his knees and off,

and Cord lay on one side, sliding a work-hardened palm
along the sensitive skin of Dan's inner thigh, fingers
sweetly exploring the cleft where thigh met torso, firmly
palming Dan's balls, already high and tight. He bent his
dark head and lapped at Dan's cock with a low,
appreciative moan.

Dan bucked off the bed, needing Cord to take him

deep,  to  feel  Cord's  cunning,  ready  mouth  slide  down
over his cock. He whimpered, angling, but Cord pushed
his hips back down, holding his spread thighs open and
bobbing lightly over the sensitive tip. Dan keened with
need,  letting  his  hands  play  over  Cord's  bare,  strong
shoulders.  Cord's  mouth  on  his  cock  was  nearly  too
much,  tongue  flicking  over  the  underside,  swirling
around the head, probing the sensitive slit, over and over
again until Dan cried out, desperate for release.

He gripped the base of his cock with a grunt, and

Cord sat up with a pleased, desiring expression. He
leaned up to claim a kiss, fierce and wanton, and Dan

ran a hand along his lover's jaw, giving his mouth over
to Cord, feeling Cord's tongue exploring and teasing
him. Dan groaned, tasting his own metallic tang as they
kissed.

"I want you, Cord," Dan managed. "Fuck me. Make

me yours."

Cord grinned, kissing Dan again, hard and needful.

He pulled back suddenly to kneel on the sheets between
Dan's spread thighs. "Dan, want you so bad." Cord's
voice trailed off in a groan.

Dan rose up on his elbows, watching Cord jump off

the  bed  and  make  quick  work  of  his  jeans  and  tight
white  briefs.  Bright  sun  straggled  through  a  gap  in  the
thick  curtains,  casting  a  thin  stripe  of  pale  light  on
Cord's olive skin. Cord stroked himself, his eyes on Dan.
Letting  his  knees  fall  open,  Dan  lay  back  on  the  tight,
dry cotton pillow, watching as Cord slid a condom over
his engorged length.

"Cord," Dan whispered. "Need you."
Cord climbed back on the bed with a jounce of

mattress springs, and Dan spread his legs wider, feeling
Cord's  slick,  greased  fingers  slide  down  his  cleft.  He
groaned happily, set alight both by Cord's touch and the
hungry,  knowing  look  in  Cord's  eyes.  He  bucked
towards  Cord's  fingers,  dimly  hearing  the  tube  of
lubricant slide off the bed and hit the carpet.

"That's it, baby," Cord murmured, "just like that. So

fucking hot."

Dan was beyond words, moaning as Cord slid a

finger  inside  him,  stroking  and  probing.  The  digit
unerringly  found  his  sweet  spot,  and  Dan  cried  out,
arching  his  hips  off  the  bed,  fists  tangled  in  the  thin
sheet. Cord added a second finger and stoked the fire in
Dan's  loins,  his  other  hand  flat  against  Dan's  stomach,
holding him in place, holding him down against the bed

as  he  whined  and  writhed.  He  stroked  Dan  firmly,
working  his  fingers  in  and  out,  stretching  Dan's
entrance,  making  him  ready,  driving  him  wild.  Cord
held  his  hips  firmly,  a  knowing  look  in  his  eyes.
"Beautiful,"  he  drawled.  He  kissed  the  base  of  Dan's
stomach and withdrew his fingers, leaving Dan panting
and bereft.

"Please, Cord," Dan whispered, legs spread wide.
Cord's grin returned, and he moved one of Dan's legs

to his shoulder, rubbing Dan's knee and thigh. Then Dan
felt  an  insistent  push  at  his  entrance,  his  body  giving
way  to  Cord's  cock,  accepting  him,  drawing  him  in.
Cord  let  his  head  fall  back  with  a  long  moan  as  he
slowly  slid  deep  into  Dan's  body.  Inch  by  inch  he
pushed in, and Dan whined with desire, loving the feel
of being entered, being taken by this gorgeous stranger.

Cord's hips ground against his own, and Cord turned

to place a kiss on the inside of Dan's knee where it still
lay  on  his  shoulder.  "Dan,"  he  whispered,  but  before
Dan  could  respond,  Cord  was  moving  in  him  -- short,
firm  thrusts  that  laid  him  bare,  making  his  nerves  sing
with urgent, building need.

Dan's hand went to his cock as Cord's thrusts grew in

strength;  he  stroked  himself,  watching  Cord's  hips
pinion into him, hard and sure. Cord's eyes were closed,
teeth  digging  into  his  bottom  lip,  an  expression  of
intense  concentration  on  his  face.  The  bed  knocked
rhythmically  against  the  wall,  and  Dan  was  sure  they
were  waking  everyone  in  Austin,  the  noise  they  were
making, but with Cord's cock inside him and the desire
written  large  on  his  face,  Dan  didn't  care  if  they  were
both  thrown  out  of  the  state.  He  cried  out  at  intervals,
Cord taking him fast and right, his legs wrapped around
Cord's waist.

Dan came hard, spurting over his fingers, splashing

both of them, and Cord followed, pushing deep and
stiffening with a ragged cry. Dan reached for his lover,
needing to preserve the connection running through and
between them.

The two of them rocked together with small,

contented noises and whispers, skin against skin, content
with  the  nuzzle  of  forehead  against  cheek,  lips  against
jaw  or  shoulder.  They  pushed  closer,  aligning  their
bodies  until  they  lay  in  a  tangle  of  sweat-damp  skin,
limbs connected and entwined.

***

"What's New York like?" Cord trailed his fingers

down Dan's spine. Outside, hot Texas sunlight scorched
everything it could reach. They'd kept the curtains
drawn against it, air conditioner going full blast.

Dan shivered at Cord's touch. "Cold, mostly. Cold

and gray and snowy."

Cord looked puzzled. "In April, too?"
Dan nodded. "March, definitely. April sometimes. In

bad  years  even  May.  Horrible  place."  Dan  rolled  over,
sliding a hand down over Cord's hips, encouraging one
heavy thigh to slide between his own. The two of them
resettled  in  a  contented  tangle  of  limbs,  and  Dan
refrained from purring only with an effort. He snuggled
closer,  and  Cord  tightened  his  hold,  kissing  the  top  of
Dan's head softly, letting his lips linger.

A minute passed in silence, then another, until a pall

threatened to creep over the hotel room.

Cord leaned in close. "So don't go back," he

whispered.

Dan turned in his arms, startled. "What?"

Cord shrugged, playing his fingers over Dan's

forearm, staring carefully at nothing. "How long you
here for?"

"A week." Dan leaned back, taking in Cord's whole

expression.

"You got plans for that time?"
Dan licked his lips. "Not really."
Cord leaned in and kissed him. "So let me show you

around. Let me show you where to eat and where to go.
Let me show you a good time. If you're real good,
I'll...I'll show you Burton, too. It doesn't sound like
you're too fond of New York, Dan."

Dan pulled away, sitting up suddenly. The artificially

chilled air pebbled his skin. "How long does your
company usually stay?"

Cord looked cowed, like a kicked puppy, and Dan

immediately regretted his jibe. He lay back down and
skated a hand down over Cord's ribs, grazing his hip
lightly on the way down.

"It's just, way you talk, Dan, sounds like you're not

real happy where you're at. And -- look, I know it
sounds crazy as all hell, but..."

Dan raised his head to look in Cord's eyes. "But? But

what?"

Cord leaned up to kiss him. "Gimme three days, okay

Dan? Then you can decide whether you still wanna go
back to all that snow and cold. All those books."

Dan leaned back, staring at the beautiful stranger in

his bed. What Cord was saying was utter madness.

Dan had a degree to finish, a lease on an apartment,

research to do. He couldn't let himself get distracted by a
holiday vision of paradise. Still, he couldn't deny the
warmth of Cord's arms, nor the need he saw in those
pale, beautiful eyes. When he was finally able to find his
voice again, he agreed. "Okay, Cord. Three days. Show

me. Show me why I should stay." Show me why I would
give up my whole life and career and move two
thousand miles away, to a place where I only know one
person.

Cord answered Dan with a smoldering kiss, bringing

Dan's body back to readiness in a second. Cord's eyes
showed relief and need, a need that spoke volumes about
the loneliness hidden by smooth small talk.

Dan wondered what Cord saw in his eyes.

***

They emerged around dusk, well-rested and easy

with each other. And hungry again.

Dan leaned back on the worn picnic bench in the beer

garden  out  back  behind  Opal  Divine's  Freehouse.
Adjusting  his  belt  so  it  sat  a  little  lower  than  usual,  he
said,  "Cord,  that  burger  was  amazing.  I've  never  had
anything better. You eat like this all the time?"

"Whenever I can. Nothing in the world like Texas

Black  Angus."  Cord  regarded  him  with  satisfaction.  "I
have  to  say,  I  do  love  a  man  who  can  eat.  Hoo.  You
hungry  again  yet?  We  still  haven't  made  it  out  to  the
Ironworks."

Dan groaned, throwing up a hand in self-defense. "I

may never be hungry again."

Cord signaled their waitress for the check. "You

know what they say: pleasure's doubled when it's
shared."

Dan blushed, adjusting the citronella candle on the

table nervously.

Cord laughed. "C'mon, finish up your beer, and we'll

hightail it out of here, okay? Go back to the hotel and
compare notes."

"You know you can save some for tomorrow, right?

We don't have to fit everything into one day."

Cord leaned across the table, and under it, slid his

denim-clad leg between Dan's bare ones. "That's right,
we don't. We've got three days. Three full days to
convince you to stay."

Dan smiled and reached for the candle again. Cord

caught his hand and brought the palm to his lips. Dan's
smile deepened. "Cord, are you sure about this whole
thing?" He took a deep breath.

"Never been surer of anything in my life."
"You've only known me for--" Dan tilted the hand

Cord still held, so he could read his watch. "Eleven
hours."

"That's not true."
"This is a very accurate watch."
Cord kissed Dan's palm again and then, eyes on Dan,

worked  his  way  down  to  Dan's  wrist.  "I  feel  like  I've
known  you  my  whole  life,  Dan."  He  deftly  unstrapped
the watch and pocketed it over Dan's protests. "Just give
me  three  days,"  Cord  said  with  a  wicked  gleam  in  his
eyes. "Three days to prove it."

Dan liked that gleam. He finished his beer with a

smile.

From Opal's the two of them did a full tour of South

Congress. They strolled from bar to bar and mostly just
looked  in  at  the  doors,  getting  glimpses  of  swirling,
brightly  lit  clubs  and  fake  old  Irish  pubs  done  in  a
golden  sheen  of  teak.  They  walked  and  walked  and
walked. And the whole way, they talked.

Cord told Dan about growing up out in the oilfield-

fed  suburbs  of  East  Texas,  and  Dan  responded  with
stories  of  him  and  his  mom,  the  two  of  them  and  their
Buffalo basement apartment where the pipes froze every
year  on  cue.  By  the  time  they  reached  the  Alamo

Drafthouse,  Dan  knew  the  name  and  breed  of  Cord's
beloved childhood dog (Bandit, a Houston shelter mutt,
kind of like an Australian shepherd but yellow all over,
except for the ears), and he'd told Cord things he hadn't
thought  about  in  years,  like  the  way  his  mom  had
scrimped  and  saved  to  get  him  a  BB  rifle  for  his  ninth
birthday, which Dan had been only too happy to sell to
pay the bill for the heating oil. Dan'd never told anyone
that;  he  told  his  mother  he'd  been  beaten  up  at  school
and  had  it  stolen.  But  Cord  wasn't  just  anyone.  He
looked Dan straight in the eyes and leaned in close, as if
he hung on every word. He reached across the table and
took Dan's hand. And Dan couldn't stop talking.

***

The next morning, Dan rolled over and quickly

wished he hadn't. He'd woken with a thick fuzz on his
tongue, an unpleasant buzzing sound in his ears, and a
splitting headache. But he also woke with Cord, and that
made it all worth it.

Once Dan's eyes agreed on a focal point, their room

at the Ivy swam hazily into focus. Dan heartily wished it
hadn't and went back to snorting Cord's chest hair.

Over on the nightstand, Dan's phone buzzed and

shuddered, then hopped manically over the edge onto
the carpet. On the third try, Dan managed to find and
flip it open. He squinted at Jordan's text. Getting lucky,
bitch? Call me!

Dan dropped the phone with a groan and flopped

back onto Cord's chest.

"Whooee," Cord opined.
"What happened?" Dan asked muzzily.
"Before or after you got up on the table?"
"What table?"

Cord snorted. "The one you stood on without your

pants to get us thrown out of the Alamo."

Dan's stomach did a lazy flip. "Oh...Cord?"
"Yes, baby?"
"I don't feel so good."
Cord snickered. "Baby, you feel fabulous."
Juan's burritos went a long way toward driving the

clouds of alcohol from Dan's brain. A hot shower and
Cord's lewd, knowing tongue and hands did the rest.

"You know what this type of hangover calls for,

Dan?"

"Never ever ever drinking margaritas ever again?

Ever?"

"This is Texas, baby. Gotta toughen you up. There's a

sweet little state park a couple miles out of town. S'got a
waterfall. Seein' how you're not a pants-wearing man, I
figure we could head out and take a quick refreshing dip.
Long as you promise not to scare the tourists."

"I really took my pants off?"
Cord stole a kiss. "An' when you see the swimming

hole at McKinley, I swear you'll do it again."

Dan regarded Cord dourly. Or at least he tried for

dour, even as his brain conjured up visions of hot, wet,
naked and Cord. "Prove it."

So of course, Cord did.
They spent the day alternating between lazing on

sun-baked  rocks  and  dunking  each  other  in  cool  green
water.  Dan  marveled  at  the  sheet  of  water  falling  over
the  lip  of  rock,  spring-fed  and  cool  even  under  the
blazing  sun.  He  loved  the  feel  of  it  splashing  over  his
bare shoulders and running down his face. But he loved
the feel of it on Cord's skin more.

When they wanted a break from the water, they hiked

along the sagebrush-lined trails, Dan marveling at the
variety of cacti and the bluebonnets, thick and vibrant in

the long grass. Cord teased Dan with imaginary snake-
spottings until Dan demanded to be carried piggy-back
back to the water, a plan Cord agreed to with alacrity.

When night fell, Cord fetched a tent and bedrolls

from his truck, and they spent the night in the off-limits
park,  listening  to  the  wildlife  and  wandering  around
under the wide, star-washed sky. When they returned to
the  head  of  the  falls  that  fed  the  swimming  hole,  the
rocks  were  still  warm  from  the  sun;  they  made  them
warmer  with  their  bodies,  then  crept  back  to  their  tent
and  woke  sweaty  in  direct  sunlight,  necessitating
another  trip  to  the  swimming  hole.  Dan  couldn't
remember ever feeling so warm, or happy.

Watching Cord's ass make jeans look illegal as he led

the way down the trail, Dan marveled at how he hadn't
thought about his thesis once. Nor about funding, or
transferring advisors, or any of the other thousand things
that made grad school seem so, well...vital.

"Penny for your thoughts," Cord drawled. He'd

packed the tent away and brewed coffee in a battered tin
pot perched on a burner on the tailgate of his truck.

Dan hazarded a sip of the oily-looking brew. It tasted

dark and burnt and incredible, and Dan was fairly sure
that if he drank even half of what Cord had poured, he
wouldn't sleep the rest of the trip. And now that he came
to think about that, it didn't seem so terrible an option.

"This doesn't seem real," Dan said hesitantly. "This--

" He held up his coffee mug. "And you and a llama that
brings you tacos in its mouth--"

"You know that was just a guy in a llama suit, right,

Dan? Just some kid between jobs, taking anything he
can get to make a buck."

"That's just my point!" Dan gestured with his cup.

"Even that..."

"Seems preferable to going home?" Cord asked

softly. A smile played around the corners of his mouth
but never reached his eyes.

Dan shrugged.
"I got til tomorrow, Dan," Cord said. "Until then,

relax.  Let  it  all  happen.  There'll  be  time  enough  to
analyze  your  data  later,  okay?  But  for  now,  how  'bout
you  an'  me  make  those  bushes  over  there  rustle  a  little
and  give  the  real  tourists  somethin'  to  write  home
about?"

Grinning, Dan set his half-drunk cup on the tailgate

and followed Cord into the shrub, for some activities
that surely should've shook the leaves from the bush. At
least, a Rochester bush. Texas crops, Dan was finding
out, were made from sterner stuff.

After that, the two of them waited in line for a donut

at Round Rock, and while Dan had to admit the giant
glazed confection the two of them split was outstanding,
it paled in comparison to the quick hard fuck they stole
in the bathroom. They glanced over the display of flesh
at Barton Springs from a safe distance then headed for
Mount Bonnell

following the sandy trail to the top and

standing together in contented and familiar silence over
the  vast,  sun-baked  panorama  that  comprised  the
downtown  area.  By  the  time  they  were  sharing  lazy
beers  and  knowing  grins  at  a  downtown  Congress
Avenue coffeehouse, Dan found it harder and harder to
believe today was the last day he could spend with Cord.
He hadn't thought about his thesis once in the last three
days. And that was what was so troubling about Cord's
offer.  Could  three  days  really  change  your  life? Before
this trip, Dan would've said no.

Waiting for Cord to return from the bar with refills,

Dan noticed his phone angrily flashing in the front
pocket of his backpack. He frowned.

Flipping it open he found another text from Jordan:

YOU  HAVE  ONE  HOUR  TO  CALL  AND  TELL  ME
YOU  WENT  AWOL  FOR  10  THICK  INCHES  AND
AREN'T  DEAD  IN  A  DITCH.  AFTER  THAT  I'M
CALLING  911  AND  YOUR  MOTHER.  NOT  IN  THAT
ORDER.

With a glance toward the restroom, Dan pressed the

call button.

"Speak, bitch. Wait... is that you, Dan?"
Craning his neck for a glimpse of Cord, Dan said,

"Yeah, it's me. Look, I'm fine, Jordan, in fact--"

"Oh I'm glad you're fine. Where the fuck have you

been? I've been looking all over for you!"

"I kinda doubt that. At least, I don't think you were

likely to find me in the jeans of that boy lying next to
you."

There was a rustling of sheets and someone's muffled

protest, then Jordan was back, hissing in Dan's ear.
"Spill. Who is he and how was he?"

Dan took a deep breath. "What would you say if I

told  you  I  wasn't  going  back?"  He  managed  to  get  the
phone  away  from  his  ear  just  before  the  angry
squawking  began.  It  lasted  a  while,  and  Dan  had  the
chance to look around again at the vibrant cityscape and
the  wild,  colorful  street  baking  in  the  sun.  A  guy  in  a
propeller  beanie  and  "Keep  Austin  Weird"  t-shirt
pedaled a bike and trailer past the coffee shop. A silver
soup  tureen  sat  balanced  on  the  trailer,  hung  with
brightly  colored  streamers.  Dan  watched  the  cyclist
move out into traffic as Jordan went into Act II of It's A
Wonderfully Ruined Life.

Of course it was, Dan thought. Life decisions should

be based on logic and reasonable expectations, not
passion and hormones. Certainly not simply by
believing that a chance meeting, in a place so different

from your hometown, so far from everything you've
known, could change your life.

Lonely's something you tend to take inside you

wherever you go.

Cord returned with their beers, and Dan flipped his

phone shut, cutting Jordan off mid-squawk.

Cord set their drinks on the table and dropped into

the seat across from Dan. He wore a sober expression.

"Well," Cord drawled, giving the word two syllables,

"three days."

"Three days," Dan agreed. He raised his beer in a

toast, and after a moment's consideration, Cord raised
his own glass and clinked.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything

further. What, after all, was there left to say? One-night
stands weren't meant to be forever.

Maybe sometimes lonely's something you can put

down for a few hours.

Dan looked over at Cord, lean and muscled and

handsome,  but  carrying  lonely  in  his  eyes.  He  thought
about  all  the  ice  and  snow  waiting  for  him  back  in
Rochester.  His  research,  barely  begun,  and  with  three
more  long  years  ahead.  He  staunchly  ignored  his
vibrating  phone  and  the  stroke  Jordan  was  no  doubt
having via text message.

"Well," Cord drawled again, "you ready?"
Dan set his beer down on the table and took a long

last look at Cord. He wiped his mouth with the back of
his hand. "Yeah, Cord. I think I am."

Six Months Later
Burton, Tx, Population 359. Dan smirked as he

passed the sign on the outskirts of town, whistling along
with the car radio. It felt good imagining he might
someday be number 360.

Nearly as good as it felt to come home to Cord.
Dan had returned to Rochester and spent the rest of

the  semester  in  a  daze.  By  day,  he  went  through  the
motions of his research, then spent every night either on
the phone or online with Cord. It wasn't as good as the
real thing, but it was just enough for Dan to make it to
the  end  of  the  school  year,  file  for  a  furlough  semester
with  the  university  and  as  Jordan  had  put  it,  "fuck  his
life sideways with a running start."

Funny though, the farther Dan got from upstate New

York in the little rented hatchback, the better he felt
about his decision.

He'd thought it through, he was an adult, and he knew

there  would  be  consequences  for  his  actions.  But
sometimes life wasn't so much about whether a decision
was  good  or  bad,  so  much  as  what  you  made  of  the
situation  afterward.  And  Dan  was  pretty  pleased  with
what he'd made of it so far.

He found a tiny studio to rent behind someone's

bungalow down in the arts section of Austin and after a
brief stint washing dishes to keep up his cashflow, had
settled into a position at The Village Green, a nursery in
the north end of town. Meanwhile, he'd applied for a
transfer to the University of Texas and was spending as
much time as possible out in Burton with Cord.

He had no idea if his transfer would be approved or

not. But he couldn't find it in himself to care. When
compared to the endless blue sky, patient lowing cattle,
and Cord at his side, the halls of academia held less and
less appeal.

Dan passed through the tiny town and drove on past

the huge brown pastures of the Lazy M. He was still
whistling when he bumped up the dirt road to Cord's
cottage and parked beside the weathered barn.

In the nearby corral, Cord's favorite appaloosa was

munching hay. The old blue pickup used on the ranch
stood by the barn doors, but there was no sign of Cord.
Frowning a little, Dan slung his bag over his shoulder
and headed inside.

There was a well in the home pasture needing

attention. Dan remembered Cord talking about it last
night on the phone. Cord was likely out working on it --
Dan grinned, quickening his pace. He'd change and run
out, surprise his lover, maybe help with the repair.

He ran straight to the bedroom, stripping his shirt off

as he went in the door. His jeans followed, and he bent
over, hauling at the drawer where he kept his ranch
clothing.

"Now that's a mighty fine ass."
Dan whirled. "Cord!"
"Who else would it be?" Cord, clad in only a

bathrobe, stood in the bathroom doorway, staring at Dan
appreciatively. "Sure was consid'rate of you to do my
job for me." He gestured at Dan's jeans sprawled on the
floor.

Dan laughed. "Figured you'd be working on that well.

I was gonna get dressed and give you a hand."

A slow grin spread over Cord's face. "If I hadn't'a

finished it two hours ago, I'd'a surely appreciated the
help. But as it is, if you follow my recommendation you
won't get dressed at all."

"That could be arranged." Dan crossed to Cord,

reaching up for a slow, easy kiss. "But it isn't fair if I'm
the only one naked."

"Figure you're right." Cord tugged lazily at the robe's

belt. The bathrobe fell to the floor.

Dan shivered, leaning in, pressing against Cord's hot,

hairy chest. Cord was naked, and his cock swelled and
filled against Dan's thigh.

"So now I'm the only one naked." Cord nuzzled Dan's

ear then bit his shoulder as he pulled Dan's underwear
down.

Dan struggled out of them, clinging to Cord's hips for

support. His own cock sprang free, bumping against
Cord's. Cord released his neck and chuckled softly, one
hand across Dan's back, the other deftly probing
between his cheeks.

Moaning, Dan spread his legs. Cord made an

appreciative sound and swung Dan off his feet.

Dan landed on his back on the big bed with Cord on

top  of  him,  pinning  him  down,  grinning  like  fury.  Dan
grinned  back,  reaching  up  to  lock  his  hands  behind  his
lover's neck, then raising his head for a kiss. He couldn't
get  enough  of  Cord's  mouth  -- the  heat,  the  magic,  the
joining of the two of them drove him crazy with desire.

As Cord's tongue dueled with his own, Dan drew his

knees up until he felt Cord against his entrance. He
broke the kiss, gasping.

"Cord... c'mon!"
"Impatient." Cord kissed him softly then slid a hand

between them, lightly caressing Dan's aching balls. "I
like that."

"Hurry!" Impatient didn't even begin to cover it: even

the sight of Cord was enough to bring Dan to the edge.
On the bed, with his lover bearing him down, Dan
couldn't wait.

"We do things different In Texas," Cord drawled,

eyes sparking with amusement.

Dan managed a breathy laugh. This was one of their

favorite games, but he hoped Cord wouldn't make him
wait too long. His need burned deep, a desperate ache in
his passage. "Need you inside me, cowboy. Need you to
ride me."

In the act of reaching for the lube, Cord paused, and

Dan saw the change in his face. "I want that, hot stuff. I
want that, too. Yeah, your hot ass..."

"C'mon, Cord." Dan wriggled back on the bed,

licking his lips. He got his elbows behind him, half-
lifting himself, and drew his knees wide. "Is this what
you want?"

"You know it is." Cord knelt between his knees,

clutching the tube of KY. He uncapped it with a shaking
hand and spilled the clear gel over his fingers.
"Goddamn it, you make me near as impatient as a New
Yorker."

"Sorry," Dan said wryly, letting his head fall back as

the cool gel made contact with his pucker. "Oh yeah...
put it inside me, Cord. Need you in me."

Cord took him at his word. With a single thrust,

Cord's finger slid deep into Dan's ass, stoking his fire.

Dan gasped, dropping back on the bed. Cord thrust

into him, hitting his pleasure spot unerringly. Through
half-shut eyes, Dan saw Cord stroking himself in the
same rhythm.

"Hurry," he slurred.
Cord's finger disappeared, then two strong hands

grasped Dan's thighs, pressing him open. Dan moaned as
he felt Cord's thick cock at his hole, overcoming his
body's lingering resistance.

Dan bucked off the bed, trying to force Cord in

deeper. "Yeah, baby," Cord growled. "That's what I'm
talkin' about." He thrust in hard, and Dan yelled in
pleasure as Cord sunk in to the hilt.

Dan thrashed and bucked against Cord's restraining

hands  until  Cord's  long  slow  strokes,  straight  to  his
pleasure  spot  every  time,  began  to  do  their  work.  He
settled  in  to  Cord's  rhythm,  moving  with  his  lover,
feeling his orgasm building deep inside.

He moaned, rolling his head from side to side as Cord

leaned forward over him, whispering soft love-words.

Unable to hold back any longer, Dan took hold of his

cock, stroking it hard and fast, crying out as he felt his
balls contract. Cord thrust hard home and collapsed on
Dan's chest, panting in the throes of his own orgasm.

"So good," Dan whispered, entwining his fingers in

Cord's hair. "So glad. About everything."

Cord laid a soft kiss on Dan's lips. He didn't answer,

instead rolling free of Dan's body and stretching out
beside him.

Dan leaned over, took Cord's bathrobe from the floor

and mopped them both clean.

"That was clean this morning," Cord said, shaking his

head in mock-regret. "An' you know how I hate
laundry."

Dan laughed softly and consigned the bathrobe back

to the floor. Cord leaned back invitingly, and Dan
snuggled against his chest, ignoring the late summer
heat in favor of the feel of a good hard man against him.

Cord kissed him once, lightly, then went back for

seconds. They broke apart, then lay together for a few
minutes, staring. Cord broke the companionable silence.
"Didn't think you'd stay, you know."

"Mmm?" Dan's senses went to alert, but when he

moved to pull away, Cord's arm was there.

"I hoped, that's all." Cord stroked Dan's back,

calloused palm over his sweat-limned skin. "Way I was
raised, a man sees somebody like you, it's more'n he's

worth to assume anything. But hope's free. Hope don't
cost a thing."

Dan thought about long winter nights in New

England,  wearing  all  his  clothes  to  bed  because  his
mom's  house-cleaning  job  hadn't  accounted  for  paying
for extra heating oil in a cold snap. He burrowed harder
against  Cord,  despite  the  afternoon  heat.  "Hope  doesn't
cost  a  thing,"  he  corrected  lightly.  "But  it  can  be
dangerous sometimes."

"Yeah?"
"I mean, what if I'd said no?" Dan murmured. "You

were taking such a big risk. I was committed."

Cord cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice

was so low and rough, Dan had to strain to hear. "Way I
saw it, the bigger risk was in not asking and never
knowing. I'd'a had to live with that my whole life."

Dan rose up and stole another kiss, soft and lingering,

then lay back down on Cord's warm chest, taking
comfort in the sweat-moist skin. "Me too," he said
softly. "Me too."

End.

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Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / August 2012

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