Previously published as "How West Was Won"
They had walked for a good half hour before they heard it—the rumbling sound. At first Jake thought it could be thunder, but a quick glance at the sky told him that wasn’t the case. When he realized he could feel the thunder in the ground as well, he understood the sound they were hearing was of pounding hooves.
“What the hell is that?” Alan pointed at a rising cloud of dust in the distance.
“Horses.” Jake had no experience in anything that would have given him that answer. For some reason, he simply knew. “Let’s hope they’re friendly.”
“Friendly? You mean those horses are wild?”
Jake laughed. “No. But the cowboys riding them just might be.” Jake let a shiver run through him as he thought about just how a wild cowboy would be—big and strong, talented with a lasso and tie down. He would know how to use a whip and would fuck like he rode, hard and with his boots on. Oh yeah, he could use that kind of distraction, even if it was just a one off.
But these cowboys weren’t going to be like that. Out here, the word gay was probably not a good one and most likely not said out loud. Not that what either one of them was wearing would actually shout gay or anything, but it did send up a questioning eyebrow. Alan had jeans on, but they were thin and tight, and the ankle high boots were as well. His silk shirt wasn’t pink but the particular shade of blue wasn’t exactly manly and had no buttons done up beyond his belly button. He did have neck tattoos, but they certainly weren’t going to help in the macho department either.
Of course Jake was hardly better with his tight jeans, the ones with the large strategically placed holes, making it impossible to do anything but go commando. He also wore his “cut off” T-shirt which showed just enough of his slightly muscled chest and flat stomach to entice the viewer to want to see more. His thick, dark hair was in a messy-hair style he knew turned heads. In other words, he looked awesome and he had done it specifically because of Alan. Not that he would take him back for any reason, even for a quick fuck, no matter how desperate he had become. But he was not above showing off what Alan was missing out on.
Okay, the rainbow sneakers, a gift from his mother, did scream gay.
Not to mention they were trespassing and chances were pretty good the excuse they had would not be anywhere near a worthy reason. However, there was nothing they could do at the moment. There was nowhere to hide and the cloud was moving fast. No question, they had been spotted.
“Well, about fucking time someone helps us. This is great.”
“I’m not sure it’s great, Alan. They just might be pissed we’re on their land.”
“Why? We’re not doing anything.”
“No Trespassing means no trespassing, Alan.”
“Don’t worry. They’ll help us.”
But the only thing the riders did was surround them. There were eight of them, all decked out in cowboy garb and just a few of them worthy of gawking at twice—maybe even three times.
“What are you boys doing on private property?” Of course the man, probably the oldest of the group, emphasized “boys” as he raked both him and Alan over, and he certainly wasn’t sizing them up for dating prospects. Jake thought the small glint in his eye might indicate he and Alan would be used as wanking material later on, but that was not going to help them right now.