Bent Arrow (3 page)

“I have a nice place right now with a great bed, no roommate, and even running water this time.”

“You don’t even have running water coming into some places you’ve liv—”

“And here I’ve got it pouring into the basement,” he shouted.

His mom tucked her chin to her chest and gave a quick nod. She took a few breaths that seemed to steady her before she said in a quiet voice, “You’ve always liked working with your hands. Come back. Fix this place up.”

“I can’t afford it.”

“It’s free,” his mom said with more force than Luther was prepared for.

“Without a job? Taxes. Food. Utilities. Not to mention the cost of all the necessary repairs.”

“Bud. Bud’s been saying he can’t get decent help in the lumberyard for months. Everyone’s running off to oil’s big-money jobs.”

“I’ll think about it. No promises, though,” Luther said, but judging by the way his mom’s face split with a sunshine smile, he knew she didn’t hear the last part.

THREE

J
OIN

B
Y
S
UNDAY, AFTER
his fifteen-hour shift was done, Luther was exhausted. He took the time to shower, allowing the hot water to tumble over his shoulders. He sang Erik’s praises when the hard pulses from the massaging showerhead helped ease the knot in his neck.

He toweled off, hastily made a sandwich, and sorted through the mail while he allowed his body to air-dry. Eating his supper in bed wasn’t his first choice, but standing or sitting was even farther down on his list of things he could do under such fatigue, so he grabbed a napkin and collapsed on the bed.

He felt himself drifting, knew his hand was slowly falling, but his muscles wouldn’t cooperate, even after his sandwich landed on his chest.
Just a minute more.
He sensed his breaths becoming shallower, slower as he sunk deeper into sleep. His phone chiming noisily and vibrating violently had him on high alert. The sandwich fell to the ground—slices of bread parting; meat, cheese, and lettuce fluttering to the ground in slo-mo—and the bread landed mayo-side down with a sickening splat.

“Fuck.” He stood, sprinkling toasted breadcrumbs across his pristine sheets. “Dammit. And for a text message that probably means jack shit!”

Before giving his phone the time of day, he cleaned up his mess the best he could, thankful the trailer had laminate flooring rather than carpet like the piece of shit he’d just moved out of. He sat on the edge of the bed and thumbed his phone to life.

Are you around? Erik the plumber, btw

The however-many-minutes snooze he’d taken had somehow helped him shake off the haze he’d been walking through the last hour or three, so he decided to text back.

Just got done w my shift.

Wanna head out for a drink?

Too tired. Beer n booze here.

Is that an invite?

Yep. I’m sure you remember the way.

Luther grabbed some clothes out of his sparsely filled drawer and ensured all the crumbs were off his bed and in the trash rather than hanging out on the floor. Not that they’d necessarily end up in there, but who knew. This could be
exactly
where they spent the evening.

By the time he’d found some decent mood music to pipe through the small trailer, he heard the scuff of thick-soled boots on the wooden stairs outside, followed by a soft knock.

“No need to be shy,” Luther said as he opened his door on Erik’s averted gaze. He looked off to the side and saw one of his neighbors he didn’t know yet, but he waved at the guy anyway.

“Decent night,” the stranger hollered.

“Sure is,” Luther called back as he stepped aside, silently inviting Erik in before the neighbor could strike up a conversation that would probably die a painfully slow death. “So… what can I get you?” Luther made his way to his kitchen and opened the fridge door, naming off the three kinds of microbrews he had before he revealed the glistening bottles of liquor hiding behind a cabinet door.

“Whatever you’re gonna have.” Erik palmed his hair, as if he were self-conscious of his errant curls.

“Do you mind a stout?”

“Not at all.”

Luther pried the bottle tops off and walked the few steps into the living room. He handed Erik his beer as he sat on the small sofa, which wasn’t at all built for two grown men to sit on at the same time. “Not much furniture, so I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“I’m cool with that.”

“So… are you here to fuck or what?”

Erik’s eyes bulged comically wide. “Wow. Are you always this… direct?”

Luther studied him, trying to read the look on his face. “I thought that’s what this was.”

“I—it could be, but I hardly know you.”

“Oh,” Luther said with a confident nod. “One of those.”

“
Those?
What do you mean?”

Luther held up his hands to show he meant no harm before reaching for his beer to take a few healthy swigs. Erik followed his lead.

“You prefer to be friends before we fuck,” Luther said as he sat back. “That works. So tell me where you’re from.”

Erik sputtered and choked on his beer, clearly not done swallowing before what Luther had said caused him surprise. “Uh… near Rugby.”

“Geographical center of North America, huh?”

“Yeah, the town’s one claim to fame, unless you’re into Victorian dresses.”

Luther laughed. “Can’t say that I am. So you’re a local boy, or at least local around here nowadays.”

“Lots of new faces from all over. It’s changed the area a lot.”

“Oil and good jobs brought ’em all running, didn’t it?” They both nodded and took another sip. “Not such a desolate place anymore. Unfortunately.”

“You like wide-open spaces?” Erik asked.

“Yeah.”

“So I’m guessing living in a man camp is far from ideal.”

“There are good things, like people keeping to themselves, not poking their noses in all your business like back home.”

“Mmm. You get everything fixed at your grandma’s, by the way?”

“Hell no,” Luther said through a huge sigh. “Gotta go back. I should really stay up there, just quit here and go home, but the money’s too good to leave.”

“Long hours, though.”

“Yeah. Fantastic overtime.”

Erik got a far-off look in his eyes and a small curl of a smile as he said, “I’ve been thinking about settling down in a cozy little town and hanging a shingle, opening my own plumbing store, maybe live in a back room of the shop I rent out or something. I don’t like it here near as much as I thought I would. Too many people, too much crime…. Not enough—”

“Sex?” Erik blushed at Luther’s question, so he teased him with, “Shy boy.”

Erik’s studied the knee of his jeans, where he thumbed over the white, frayed fabric. “I wasn’t getting
any
sex for a long while there.”

“Well, you can have it now. Just give me the signal.”

Erik’s gaze slowly drifted up at the same time he bit into the pink flesh of his bottom lip, so Luther leaned closer and kissed him. Hard. Licking at his lips, tasting his tongue, and pulling sweet sounds from Erik’s throat as he finally opened to it and fisted at the back of Luther’s thin T-shirt.

Erik pressed his forehead to Luther’s and panted across his mouth, closing his eyes as his cheeks flushed. “Yes. Let’s….”

“Let’s?”

But all Erik did was nod and follow Luther to his bedroom when he led the way.

They both stripped without any ceremony, not trying to entice or tease, just getting naked as fast as possible. The dimly lit room didn’t give Luther much of a chance to study Erik’s body, but he would use his hands for that. And his mouth.

Luther tugged the sheets down and crawled in, inviting Erik by crooking a few fingers and spreading his thighs. Erik stalked him as if Luther were prey and Erik was a panther ready to pounce, all shyness seemingly stripped away.

“You’re more confident with less clothes on,” Luther whispered against Erik’s lips before delving back in for a kiss. “I like it.”

“Clothes are overrated.”

“Mmm. So right.”

They kissed, slower this time, paced so they could discover what they each liked and find a rhythm that got them both grinding against each other. Luther skimmed his hands down Erik’s warm skin, gliding over firm muscles. He wanted to touch every single inch. He squeezed that bubble butt he’d craved from the second Erik bent over in his kitchen.

Erik rolled his hips, brushing his hard cock against Luther’s, which made Luther groan and press up to meet the friction. Luther tugged on Erik’s ass, urging him to thrust harder. It didn’t take long before both of them needed to pull away from the kisses so they could breathe, panting hot breaths over damp lips.

“No ass play at all?” Luther asked, recalling what Erik had said days before.

“Nope.”

Luther was disappointed, but he got it. He used to be like that too, but not anymore. He pointed out the supplies on a nearby shelf, and Erik reached for them.

“Come on. Hurry it up,” Luther said as Erik slowly rolled the condom over his dick. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Not gonna. I can take you without fingers if you go slow.”

Luther could barely see Erik’s dick because of the dimly lit room, let alone truly judge his size by holding it in his hand, but he didn’t really care. He’d taken
huge
guys before, and he hadn’t exactly been celibate in the last few months.

“Little more lube,” Erik said, so Luther dripped some over the head of his dick. Then Erik slid over Luther’s hole. The lube was cold, but it wouldn’t be for long.

“I like when guys just play there for a bit. It’s not as great as rimming, but damn….”

Erik took the hint and rubbed the head of his cock around, sliding over the center of Luther’s hole, which encouraged Luther’s body to respond, muscles relaxing.

“Oh fuck, that feels good,” Erik moaned.

“It sure does. Mmm. Just like that. Don’t stop.” Luther was lost in the sensation of his body opening up to Erik. He squeezed an ass cheek and skimmed his palms up the strong muscles in Erik’s back. “Kiss me.” He carded his fingers through Erik’s thick waves of hair, directing him back to his lips.

Erik pulled away with a laugh. “With my bad shoulder, I’m not that coordinated. I’m going to fall and crush you.”

“Let me, then,” Luther said, wrapping his fingers around Erik’s truly impressive dick while Erik rested on both forearms, leaned in, and kissed Luther again.

Luther teased his own hole with Erik’s cock, opening to him.

This wasn’t how he usually fucked. He was often on his hands and knees or facing a wall, because he rarely wanted to kiss the men he had sex with, especially the men around the man camps. But here they were, kissing with languid strokes of their tongues as Erik slowly sunk into him, inch by decadent inch.

Luther was savoring this unhurried fuck, because, for once, he could. Most sex for him happened in near-public places, because up until last week, he had always shared living quarters. So it had to happen quickly to avoid being interrupted or in other places, nowhere near a bed. There was never time to relish the sensation of a dick
slowly
sinking into his ass.

But now that Erik had nearly bottomed out, Luther wanted fast. He gripped Erik and pulled him in the last inch, squeezing those hockey player glutes and further encouraging him with “Fuck me hard now. Like you mean it.”

Erik gave him a final peck on the mouth, then sat back on his knees. He lifted Luther’s ass to get him in the perfect position and then took off, fucking into him in the most perfect way.

“Yeah. Oh my God. Just like that.” Luther moaned, probably loud enough that people outside could hear him if they were sitting out in the warm spring night. He hoped not, but fuck them if they did. They’d all assume he was watching porn, fucking a woman, or jerking off anyway.

Luther was getting fucked so hard his cock kept rhythm against his belly. Erik’s thrusts became even more forceful as he looked down, withdrew what felt like nearly the entire way, and used the muscles in that hockey ass to do exactly what it was built for: pushing, shoving, thrusting. Luther grabbed on to Erik’s thick, hairy thighs, gripping them tight so he wouldn’t get launched through the wall of the trailer, which would mean the worst thing ever: no more Erik-cock in his ass. He wanted to palm himself, but that would mean he couldn’t pull Erik in even deeper. He wanted to come but wasn’t ready for this to end yet.

“Prostate,” Luther somehow wheezed out between his labored breaths. He was sweating, and so was Erik, his skin shining with it in the dim light.

Erik hiked Luther’s legs higher, settling them in the crook of his elbows and slowly started to thrust again. It almost seemed experimental, less frenzied, so Luther could finally ease the ache in his dick with some tugs and squeezes rather than holding on for dear life. Erik moved Luther and adjusted his thrusts until….

Luther’s body lit up with tantalizing pleasure.

“There. Yeah… again.”

Erik smiled in sweet accomplishment as he moved in short strokes, using the head of his dick to massage Luther in the most exquisite way. Luther knew he was making nonsensical noises, moaning and groaning and, yes, even fucking whining and begging, but he was beyond caring at that point.

This was the best fuck of his life, and he wasn’t about to let something as ridiculous as dignity get in the way of enjoying it.

His orgasm built, getting closer and closer with each tug on his cock and thrust of Erik’s hips, but he didn’t want it to be done yet. He released his dick and fingered his nipples, just gentle brushes of his fingertips across the tight little nubs that added to the fiery sensations zinging across his body and in his balls.

“You almost there?” Luther asked in a gravelly voice.

“Any time you’re ready.”

“Let me come first. Wanna feel you. I wanna kiss you so badly right now, but
don’t
you dare stop doing what you’re doing.”