Dogtags and Cowboy Boots Page 8

  Dick and Rig owed him a steak. A nice thick porterhouse with sautéed mushrooms and grilled onions and not a fucking vegetable in sight. And something large and chocolate for dessert. To be followed by blow jobs until he couldn't fucking see anymore.

  And then maybe, just maybe, he'd forgive them for dragging his ass through room after room of crap hanging on the walls.

  Tomorrow they were sleeping in, fucking, eating, fucking some more and having another steak.

  He stopped in front of another butt-ugly picture, this one at least looked like... melted stuff. Okay, he was out of there.

  "I'll meet you out front," he growled at Rig and took off. Maybe he could find a sausage or something from one of those vendors to tide him over until he got his steak.

  It wasn't long before heat was at his hip, grey eyes watching him. "Yeah. You pissed?"

  "You'll make it up to me." He watched as the kid came up on the other side of Rig, looking at him cautiously. "I mean a fucking museum. You think you high culture boys can find us someplace with a pool table, cold beer and fucking decent steaks?"

  "I imagine that's possible, Rocketman. Although I'm not sure we should trust Yankees with steak."

  "I think I'll take that chance, Rig. After all, I trusted you two knuckleheads with the afternoon's entertainment. I don't think Yankees can do any worse with a steak."

  Dick slouched. "Sorry, Rock. I didn't actually think you'd say yes and I sure wasn't going to give up the opportunity when you did."

  Rig moved a little away, sunglasses going on, hat brim going down. "Lead the way. I'm right behind you."

  He growled softly, looking at the two of them. Somehow he'd gotten to be the bad guy here and he couldn't for the life of him figure out how. He'd gone to the damned museum, hadn't made anyone leave, hell they'd been here for hours.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and led the way out, hailing down a taxi. They piled in together, uncharacteristically quiet, stiff, still.

  "You know a good place we can drink a little beer, play a little pool and get a decent steak?" He asked the driver.

  He really didn't want to go back to the fucking hotel all growly and pissed, none of them talking to each other. They were supposed to be on fucking holiday.

  "Sure, bud. Somewhere not-touristy?"

  Rig nodded. "Yeah. Somewhere quiet."

  He nodded. Yeah. Somewhere they could just fucking relax and play.

  By the time they got there, Rig was relaxed, easier, fingers touching his wrist. He rumbled a little, letting Rig know he was ready to let it go. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the kid relaxing, almost imperceptibly. Damn, the kid could read them like a fucking book. When he wanted to.

  Rig smiled. "I don't know about y'all, but I'm starving."

  "I'm wanting a beer in the worst fucking way."

  "Looks like we're at the right place then," said Dick.

  "Yeah, kid. It does."

  "Good." Rig handed the cabbie the fare, then slid out. "Man, it's getting chilly down here."

  "That's why we don't live here." He winked at Rig. "And why we didn't come here in January."

  "No shit." Rig laughed, the sound easing everything and just making shit right.

  The place was dark, about half full, only two out of three pool tables in use.

  Rock went right over to the bar. "A pitcher of draft and three glasses."

  Rig grabbed them a pool table, hung that cowboy hat on a peg on the wall. The kid arranged for munchies and ordered them steaks while he racked up the balls.

  Now this was more like it.

  "Better?" Those grey eyes met his over the felt, picking up the bright green.

  "Yep. I just hit overload on the culture."

  Rig chuckled, winked. "Too much in your childhood?"

  "Too much on TV." He grinned, checking out that fine ass as Rig bent over the pool table.

  "TV'll rot your brain..." Rig spread, shot, gave him a nice long look.

  "So will museums."

  Dick arrived with a plate of potato skins and onion rings, laughing. "You'd think we tied you down and poured honey on you and let the ants have you."

  "That would have been less painful, kid."

  "I liked the Remington stuff. I learned about him in high school. We went to his personal museum in Dallas."

  "Well at least someone enjoyed themselves."

  "I liked it," said Dick. "It's nice to do something different."

  He rolled his eyes. Kid was sucking up.

  "Daddy used to take me and Sissy to the museums, believe it or not. I don't know that he liked them either, but he thought we ought to go."

  He gave Rig a look. "You're cheating, Rabbit."

  "Cheating?" Rig took his shot, missed.

  "How am I supposed to argue against your Daddy?"

  "You're not." Rig winked.

  He shook his head, chuckling. "Then I won't. That doesn't mean I'm going to the museum next time you two have an urge."

  "Okay, that's fair." Rig nodded, easy-going cowboy.

  He dipped a potato skin in sour cream and pushed it into his mouth before taking his shot, sinking half his balls before he missed and it was Rig's turn again. Now that things had eased, he was better able to appreciate the way Rig bent over the pool table.

  And so now he was horny. Which sure beat bored to death and pissed off with his lovers, but they weren't exactly going to be able to drop their trousers and fuck over the pool table here like they could in the basement at home.

  Rig managed to give him a great view, over and over, that little cowboy ass a huge temptation. So big a fucking temptation that he actually lost the first game to Rig.

  Well. He knew that worked on the kid -- show enough skin and his game went to shit, but he usually managed to keep it together enough to play a decent game. Of course, that gave him a whole round to watch Rig tease and play with Dick, which was one fucking sweet consolation prize.

  The kid wasn't even paying attention to his game and Rig was the victor yet again.

  They had time for one more game, which he lost to Rig yet again, teasing his lover about cheating, and then their steaks were served up and they settled in a booth in the corner.

  Rig sat close, hip nudging his, stealing bites of his potato, letting him steal bites of steak. It wasn't exactly exciting holiday stuff, but it was relaxing and good and that's what counted.

  He poured himself some more beer, settling back against the booth with a sigh when he was done.

  One happy, stuffed marine.

  Dick grinned across at him. "You got room for dessert there?"

  "There's always room for dessert, kid."

  "I thought it was Jell-O..." Rig chuckled. "Wanna share one, Dick?"

  "Jell-O's for wrestling in." He winked, watched as the kid tried not to choke on his last mouthful.

  "Oh, Lord... Can you imagine? Jell-O in your unmentionables?" Rig was laughing, the kid snorting hard.

  "I'll bet it beats mud wrestling, because let me tell you mud and unmentionables? Fucking brutal."

  "Well, we've all dealt with mud and your unmentionables, ground-pounder."

  It was his turn to choke and he nearly shot beer out his nose. Lucky for Rig, who was in the line of fire, he didn't.

  "All right, if we're going to mention fondling my unmentionables? I think it's only fair if they actually get fondled."

  "Then we'd better get this show on the road, Rocketman. This city isn't big enough for public Rock fondling." Rig put some money on the table, slid out.

  "There's a city that is?"

  Rig grabbed his cowboy hat and he resisted grabbing Rig and Dick's asses and out they went.

  It turned out they weren't that far off their hotel. "You gonna freeze to death on the spot if I suggest walking, Rigger?"

  Rig pondered, "Nah, stud. Y'all warm me up when we get there. Watch out for pickpockets."

  "How about I watch your ass for pickpockets and you watch mine?"

 
"What about me?" Dick asked.

  "You can watch Rig's ass, too."

  "I don't usually need an excuse."

  Rig laughed, wiggling a little, teasing for all of four steps before gawking at the big buildings, the lights, the noise.

  Rock grinned. "It is something else, isn't it?"

  "Huge. Just. Huge, Blue..."

  He nodded. "I am, it's true."

  Rigger nodded, agreeing, then heard what he said, looking back with a laugh. He chuckled, strutting along like the cock of the block, the kid trailing him.

  "You know I'd be embarrassed for him, but he's got a point."

  "Gee, thanks, kid."

  "No." Rig shook his head, serious. "You're more pointy. He's too wide for that."

  "Got that right. Nice and fat."

  Dick shook his head. "I can't believe we're talking about this in the middle of the street..."

  "Well, yours goes deep, deep. That's a plus, kid."

  Rig just grinned, wicked shit.

  The kid actually blushed nice and dark and they were laughing pretty good as they got to their hotel. They wandered over to the elevator, letting a group of blue-haired ladies get on ahead of them. Unfortunately they held the door open in return so on they piled.

  Rock looked down to find the lady standing next to him looking him up and down, a wicked twinkle in her eye. Swallowing, he looked up at the numbers. Damn, the ninth floor seemed far away.

  Rig managed to keep it together until the elevator door opened, then his cowboy looked the lady right in the eyes. "Sorry, ma'am. These two? Mine. Thanks for admiring, though."

  He chuckled at Rig and Dick squeaked as he got off, turning back in shock as the doors closed. "She pinched my ass!"

  His chuckles turned to laughter. "Can't find fault with her taste."

  "No shit. Sexy bastards. Room." Demanding Rabbit.

  Of course he was hustling, wasn't he? Even if he was making it look casual. He knew which side of the bread he wanted to be buttered on. Or something like that.

  Their room boasted a beautiful fucking king sized bed that had been thoroughly tested the night before. It was time for round two on it.

  Rig started unbuttoning his shirt, ass swaying to the music playing on the little radio.

  He purred. "Gonna give us a striptease?" He sat back on the bed, spreading his legs. "Maybe a lap dance?"

  Rig groaned, eyes on his cock, licking those lips. Slowly but surely, Rig lost the shirt, worked the belt open, eyes watching him close. He stroked himself through his jeans, just hard and wanting, admiring the fucking view.

  Dick stripped quickly and landed on the bed next to him. "Best damn show in the city."

  "You got that right, kid."

  Rig blushed. "Y'all..." Still, Rig bent, gave them a long look at that fine body as he worked his boots off.

  He and Dick whistled and hollered, carrying on like the fine marines they were. They got the arched eyebrow, those jeans sliding over lean, fine hips, showing off that ink crowning a heavy cock... Oh, that bastard shaved.

  "Slut." He shook his head, hands reaching to touch almost without thinking. "You fucking slut."

  "Your fucking slut." Rig stepped away, staying out of his reach.

  He growled a little. "Mine. So bring it over here, Roberts."

  "Hmm?" Those grey eyes twinkled, teased.

  "You gonna go get him?" Dick asked, grinning, stroking himself.

  "No. He's going to come here." He crooked his finger. "Come on, Rigger. Shake that fine ass over this way."

  Rig slid a couple steps closer, licking those lips. Fuck, he was going to bust right out of his jeans at this rate.

  "Want y'all." Rig slid even closer, cock hard as a stone.

  "Sitting right fucking here, Rabbit." He growled, sitting back again, legs spreading wide.

  Rig straddled his thighs, eyes hot, hungry. "Yeah."

  He purred, one hand sliding around Rig's waist, the other petting that smooth skin. "Fuck, Rig."

  Dick lay across his thigh, tongue moving to trace the tattoo.

  "Mmm... perfect idea." Rig leaned back, offering himself. "Fuck Rig."

  "I've got to get fucking naked."

  "Details, details."

  "Important details, Rabbit. My prick's gonna fall off if I don't get these fucking jeans off." He fucking needed. Now.

  Rig and the kid started working his jeans open, helping to get him naked.

  "Oh, fuck." Yeah. Fuck it felt good when his cock hit the air, got some room. "All right, who wants to ride the Rocketman."

  Rig chuckled. "Best fucking ride in New York, hooboy."

  "You fucking know it." He lay back as they pulled his jeans right off, got rid of his shoes and his socks and his shirt. His cock was hard and thick. "Come and get me boys."

  "How do you want it, Dick?" Rig leaned down, nuzzled his belly, eyes on the kid.

  "Anyway I can get it."

  Rock rumbled, hand dropping to Rig's head. "While you're down there..."

  Rig's eyes shone up. "You wanting, stud?"

  "Always. Always." He nodded tilting Rig's mouth toward his prick. Like he would ever turn that mouth down.

  Rig's lips opened, tongue sliding down over his prick, hot and slick, those eyes still fastened on him. He growled, hips pushing. So fucking good. Rig groaned, lips pulling hard, tongue sliding, lapping the tip of his cock.

  The kid slid away and moved Rig, tilting the skinny hips and taking Rig's cock in his mouth. Yeah. Fucking sweet to feel and watch. Rig's eyes went wide, the groan harsh and good around his cock.

  He nodded, hips moving, finding a rhythm, pushing into Rig's mouth over and over again. This was worth any fucking number of museums. Not that he'd admit it.

  Rig's hands rolled his balls, pet him slow and easy. Loving on him.

  "Yeah. Fuck. Good." He growled the words out, pleasure making his belly heavy.

  Rig nodded, sucked harder, throat tight around the tip of his prick.

  The kid was good, but no one could match his Rabbit when it came to cocksucking and that he was going to come first was a foregone conclusion. Sure enough, he was soon thrusting as hard as he could, coming down Rig's throat with a cry. Rig sucked hard, swallowed, pulled the spunk right out of him.

  He shuddered through it, purring as he relaxed back into the bed.

  The kid was still working Rig's prick, sucking hard. Rig climbed up, dragging the kid with him, low cries filling the air. He took that mouth with his own, tasting himself.

  Rig cried out, eyes rolling, hips pumping into the kid's mouth. He slid his hands down and tweaked Rig's nipples.

  "Oh!" Rig arched, blushing dark as he came. "Yes!"

  He purred. "Yeah. Fucking good."

  Dick hummed, swallowing Rig down, taking his time cleaning that pretty cock.

  Rig settled, humming low, blinking slow. He got a hold of the kid and dragged him up as well, tasting Rig in Dick's mouth. Then he settled them both on his chest.

  Rig reached down for Dick's cock, fingers sliding. "You need, Dick?"

  The kid blushed hard. "I kind of already... when you did."

  He chuckled. "That's our boy."

  Rig nodded, leaning towards Dick, taking a long, slow kiss. "Yeah. Ours."

  Dick grinned, looking happy, cute, sexy as fuck.

  "Naptime," he growled. "Then it's riding time."

  "Yeah. Yeah, Blue." Rig nodded, cuddled, warm and happy and close.

  "Yeah."

  His eyes closed. Oh yeah. For this? He'd visit any number of fucking museums. Not that he was going to tell them that. Not for a second.

  May 2005

  Rock cracked a half an eye open, glancing at the clock. 0600 hours. And it was raining, he could hear the fucking drops on the roof, on the ground. Happy fucking Saturday. The least his body could have done was let him sleep in. And no wonder he hadn't been woken up with his usual blow-job, Rig wouldn't come back and do that for another three hours at least because usually he slept the fuck
in. Usually, he'd growl if anyone dared wake him before nine

  So why the fuck was he awake, mind chasing its own tail?

  Because it was Rig's birthday, that was why.

  A glance beside him confirmed that he had to get up a damned sight earlier than six fucking a.m. to beat Rig out of bed to the coffee machine, but he figured his Rabbit would still appreciate him hauling ass up early. There was no present like the gift of oneself.

  He got up with a groan, the kid snuffling and shifting, but not waking. He grinned. He guessed you learned about the important stuff with age. Yeah, sleep was at the top of the list, but making his Rabbit happy on his birthday? That ranked higher.

  He stretched and let his cock point the way, heading out to the kitchen.

  Rig was sitting at the table, coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other, wearing one of his PT sweatshirts and a scant pair of shorts.

  "Looking good for someone who just got another year older," he growled, letting his hands drop onto Rig's shoulders.

  "Mmm... Hey Blue." Rig looked up, gave him a warm, happy smile. "You're up early."

  He chuckled and pressed his cock along Rig's neck. "I sure am. Figured I should, though -- your birthday and all." Rig hummed, leaned right in and nuzzled his cock. Oh, fuck yes. Already shaved and smooth, that skin just slid against him.

  "I didn't come out here just so you could suck me." He hadn't. Really. It was Rig's birthday. 'Course with Rig nuzzling him like that a man could be forgiven for forgetting just exactly what he'd come out for.

  "No. Not just." Rig kissed the tip of his cock, lips hot and just right.

  He groaned. "Rig...fuck, that mouth is pure sin."

  "All yours. You gonna take me back to bed, after? Give me what I need?" Those grey eyes just told him all he needed to fucking know.

  "You know it. All fucking day long." He slid his hand along Rig's cheek, thumb slipping into that hot mouth. Rig's lips wrapped around his thumb, suction low and sweet. He let his pleasure rumble from him, anticipation building. He knew how that suction felt around his cock. Rig's eyes got darker, hungrier, the suction on his thumb stronger. He gave a full out growl and pulled his thumb from Rig's mouth. "No sense wasting that enthusiasm on my fingers."

  "Pushy old man." Rig's laugh was pure sex, no question.

  "Careful who you're calling old -- I'm not the one with the birthday today." He gave Rig a wink, rubbed his cock along Rig's lips, making them shine with his pre-come. Rig's tongue slipped out, wetting his cock and he moaned. "Yeah, that's it, Rig."