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The red tubes of the chutes are digging into Sebastian's left knee, the feeling goes back and forth between a stab and a dull pressure, both equally painful. He still can't get used to feeling the brace under his jeans, especially since he's starting to suspect it's not doing much for him, at least his show chaps do a good enough job at covering the ugly bulk of it.
"After a gnarly injury at the San Antonio Stock Show & Rodeo earlier this year, this crazy cowboy is back on a bronc! Ladies and gentlemen let me hear y'all welcome our reigning NFR champion, Sebastian Smythe on Quickjive!"
Sebastian hears a flurry of voices, Jeff, Nick and Meatbox all shout and whistle, but the crowd and the blood rushing in his ears are too loud to let him know what they're saying. This is where he was in February, except it was San Antonio instead of Cheyenne, but every city starts looking the same if all you're seeing is fake western paraphernalia, horses, bulls and assholes getting trampled.
"Ready?" Nick screams, his voice finally pierces through the mess of noise all around them, Sebastian looks at him and suddenly the world goes still, all crystal clear and smelling like horse shit. His stomach churns, he's got the cold sweats. For the first time in years he kisses the golden cross around his neck before he puts on his gloves and gets into the rigging, he takes a deep breath and nods. The alarm rings and between his legs Quickjive starts dancing before the chute boss can even open the gate. She starts with a dive forward that immediately puts Sebastian almost horizontal, on his back with his legs up. There's no pain now, just spikes of adrenaline pumping through his heart so strongly he feels it high in his chest, nearly exploding. Just meat and bones and blood, flesh so easy to break and tear. He shakes his head, tries not to think about it, does what he can to distract himself as the count begins. He turns his attention to the horse he's struggling to ride. Quickjive's a beautiful chestnut mare, she bucks backwards and Sebastian gets a flash of the white stripe running down her face. Her rhythm's stable and her bucking impeccable, she's a sweetheart really, giving him grace he doesn't deserve as he flings around on her, left arm in the air, right rigged to hell and holding on for dear life.
He makes it to eight seconds and immediately rolls off Quickjive and lands on his feet, his left knee buckles under him and she doesn't even turn to look at him, doesn't stomp near him, like he doesn't even deserve that. The judges give him a 92 and he's first on the board, but by the time he's gotten out of his vest and has put ice on his knee he's made up his mind to quit.
"Hey, I know you!" Burt Hummel points at him with his pen, he's got a baseball cap on and bright yellow rain boots caked in mud, "You're the fella from last year's NFR," His eyes move down to the golden buckle on his belt, "The one with the fancy name."
Sebastian gives him a nod, "Sure am, Sebastian Smythe, sir." He offers his hand and Burt shakes it, "I read on the paper that some sheep need a cowboy."
"You?!" Burt Hummel gives him a once over, "What's a rodeo show cowboy wanting with a bunch of sheep?" Burt Hummel says, making sure Sebastian can hear the judgment in his tone, "We gotta stay on horses here! 'S no good getting bucked off!"
Sebastian laughs with him, makes it reach his eyes, but he doesn't actually find it funny. He's got a prize belt buckle the size of a dinner plate right in Burt's line of vision, he doesn't get bucked off, that's sort of the whole point.
The weather feels humid out here and, by the time Sebastian's done having to listen to Hummel's unwelcome friendly banter, his bad knee is acting up. A steady increase of pain that starts from the middle and travels up to the back of his thigh, he left his brace in the pick up to not be seen with it, but now he's regretting not putting it on.
The door behind him opens with a short trill of glass and flimsy wood, he turns to look at who's entering, pirouetting on his right leg to give his left some relief. He's expecting to see Hummel's son, the one who welcomed him at the gate and complimented his truck, built like a workhorse, but too kind-looking. Instead his other son comes in, Burt's spitting image except leaner and more sour-faced; he's got a fancy neck scarf and pink dusted high on his cheeks, instead of the pale little ghost-face he showed Sebastian when he greeted him. He looks familiar to Sebastian, like the countless boys he's seen eyeing men among straights doing the do-si-do, he would know, he's been one of them since he was old enough to know what it meant to get his dick wet.
"Blaine's here." He announces and Sebastian looks at the man following him, he's short and fit, wide shoulders and tapered waist, with his hat already off like he's walking into church. He looks up and Sebastian feels the need to take his own black hat off. Honey glazed from top to bottom, from the sheen of gel in his hair to the grease on his ostrich boots, wearing earth tones and looking back at him with eyes that are like gold and long stretches of grassy fields.
"Yeah, good." Burt says, Sebastian doesn't turn to look at him, "This one's Sebastian, you two are gonna go up together this year." Sebastian offers his hand to the man, to Blaine.
He takes it, Sebastian recognizes the performance in his too tight grip, and it makes him smile a little wider, "Blaine Anderson." He's another one of his boys.
Blaine doesn't say much as their boss starts explaining the route they're supposed to be following, but Sebastian catches him glancing at his belt once or twice, the 1964 NFR Champion engraved on it seems to be just as impressive as he had hoped.
Their boss gestures widely at the routes on the map threatening to roll back up on his desk, "You're staying up until August, first of September you come back down, I don't want to send up the national guard to get your goofy asses out of an avalanche." He points out and traces the edges of the mountain, spit flies out of his mouth and lands where there's a good clearing for their first camp and then higher up where the sheep are going to be staying. "One of you stays at camp all the time, like the forest services want. Every week makes a grocery list and gives it to Finn, or whoever, when he comes up," The tip of his index finger finds Blaine as he says it, then moves towards Sebastian, "The hoarder goes down to camp for breakfast and dinner and the rest of the time he's up there with the dogs and the woolies, every night sleeps up there and looks out for coyotes. Understood?" Inwardly Sebastian's groaning, of course the one he already knows gets the cushier job, "And leave no trace up there in case the forest service comes snooping around."
"Yeah." He says and hears his voice overlap with his new work partner's.
"Alright, see y'all tomorrow at five then."
Blaine turns towards him fully now, as they file out of the trailer. "I thought I recognized you," He says and Sebastian looks up from where he's plucking a cigarette out of the package he keeps in the breast pocket of his blue shirt. "I got to see you at the NFR… Saw you in San Antonio as well."
"Yeah, well…" He raises a shoulder and lights up the stick between his lips, he takes a drag and offers it to Blaine, "You win some, you lose some."
Blaine shakes his head at the cigarette and puts his hands in the pockets of his mustard pants, he's dressed real fancy for the place they're in. "Heard from some friends you were winning in Cheyenne too." He's watching him now, staring; eyes too pretty, lips too pink, too interested and curious about something that still makes Sebastian feel so much. He hums, but doesn't answer otherwise and that effectively has the conversation quietening down some. "Sorry," He adds, the sleeves of his checkered shirt are buttoned down around his wrists, the only skin he has on show is a small triangle at the base of his throat, that looks golden as well. "I get a little excited. I know it can be annoying."
"Who's saying that?" Sebastian raises an eyebrow, as easy as anything he throws an arm around Blaine's neck and waits to see if he'll shove it off or leave it be.
Blaine clears his throat, "Pretty much everyone I know."
Sebastian looks down at him, at the red spreading on his neck, some of it must be caused by the Sun shining up above them, but the rest is all Sebastian's doing. He might not be able to read horses as good as he thought he could, but he still knows how to read men, especially when they dress too nice and shake hands too tight, "You haven't annoyed me yet. So don't put words in my mouth."
More red and a slight give into Sebastian's hold before he's laughing and shaking him off. "Jackass." He's about to have the best or the worst four months of his life.
"What do you say we get a drink? Celebrate our last day in civilization?" He offers, without any particular expectation, but Blaine's face lights up and he's nodding immediately.
"Gotta show me the ropes though, I don't get to go out much."
Sebastian doesn't wanna believe it, a pretty guy like him should be pestered as much as any pretty girl, but he can't imagine Blaine could lie about stuff like that. The more he looks at him, the molten amber in his eyes reflecting everything around them, the more he thinks he could never lie about anything. "Ain't that something."
Blaine curls on himself, shy and a little deferential, like a boy who while growing up got something a little less involved, but just as cruel as the brand of tough love Sebastian got.
The next morning they mount their horses and silently start moving towards base camp. The terrain is dry in places and muddy in others, it governs the rhythm of their ascent. The mule that's bringing up most of their stuff brays and snorts behind them, keeping the pace easily and seemingly wishing he could lead the charge. Of course the one with the least useful dick in the line up has got shit to complain about.
"How did you end up here, then?" Blaine asks, the sound of the river they just crossed is still loud in Sebastian's ears. He clicks his tongue, this is the kind of conversation you get to after drunken nights and days so boring you'd be tempted to turn the complementary shotgun on yourself, but he indulges him.
"I'm gonna stay off the rodeo for a while." He settles for a half truth instead of a whole lie, just because he suspects Blaine might do the same with him, with what he's about to ask. "So what's the deal with you and that Kurt character?" Blaine turns to look at him with his eyes narrowed and mean, "You're the one who started…" That seems to direct his sudden temper somewhere else, his gaze turns clear again and the storm passes. Sebastian has to wonder what he saw on his face, if his attempt at scoping out the competition was successful.
"Well…" He takes time, turns back to watch the dark green and rough bark in front of them, Sebastian in turn looks at the stretch of his back, the way his shirt sits a little tight around his middle, "For a while I though he was the love of my life." That shuts Sebastian right up, but the information is carefully stored away, the love of his life in past tense. Entirely too honest, so much that Sebastian doesn't know what to do with it.
The Sun is finally high up above them, breaking the remnants of night with a blinding white and clear baby blue. The dark trees all around them, suddenly find their livelier green again, right as birds, squirrels, and who knows what else, scutter away all around them, awake at last.
They catch up with the flock and start helping directing the sheep up the trail, even though the two Caucasian shepherds barking and pushing do most of the work. The smell is strong, but it's not as strong as the mix of horses and fear from the back of a rodeo, so Sebastian finds he has no trouble breathing it in.
Base camp is exactly as he imagined, a small clearing by a river, wild lavender and daisies among unblemished green. "Looks good enough." Sebastian says as he dismounts his horse, she gives a little blow of air out of her nose like she's replying.
"Good enough? Isn't this the most beautiful place on earth?" Blaine sounds affronted, he's working the ropes around the mule, trying to extract the bigger tent off the stubborn animal's back.
Sebastian gives him a thoughtful hum, he doesn't have any strong feelings about it either way, except for maybe wanting to prod and poke Blaine until he'll say every single thing that's on his mind.
"Been coming here since I was fifteen. My dad sent me here…" He starts as the tent finally comes free, but chooses not to continue. Sebastian observes him as he starts laying down the fabric and wood, from time to time giving him directions on what to do. Sebastian has pitched a tent before, but he takes the opportunity to be bossed around by Blaine gratefully.
"I guess I'll go up, be back for dinner." Sebastian says picking up the pup tent that's laying next to the one they've just put up.
"I can come up too, if you need the help." Blaine offers, along with a sandwich, the last fresh food he'll have for who knows how long. Sebastian shakes his head and assures him he'll be fine.
"Gotta go introduce myself to the dogs. Make sure they won't maul me when I go up tonight." With that he jumps on the horse, picks his hat off his head to greet Blaine like a gentleman and takes off.
Settling in is easy, Sebastian hasn't had work like this in more than two years, but he remembers what he's supposed to do well enough, falls back into the role like he never left it. Watch the sheep, shoot coyotes and leave the dogs be.
He spends the downtime he has laying around and kicking his boots off, the little sandwich Blaine handed him for lunch tastes sweet, it's all tender meat and crunchy salad. A bit like Blaine himself, he thinks, and has the gull to be embarrassed about it. He lets the taste linger on his tongue, he can't remember how long it's been since he's eaten something so light and easy.
The dogs take an interest to him when the Sun crosses over its peak, they both grumble and walk towards him on sure, steady feet, sizing him up and down like they don't know what to make of him yet. Sebastian gives them their feed and they happily lick at his hands, like that has been enough to figure him out, before leaving him alone again.
It takes him an hour and thirty minutes to move between his own perch and base camp. The path is mostly clear, but long enough to make him feel where his knee will be tender forever. By the time he makes it back to Blaine, he's grinding his teeth together, but can still stand the jolts of pain coursing through his leg.
"Hey, how's up there?" Blaine asks once he spots him, he's got his hat off and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up his forearms. Sebastian sees strong lines of muscle and bulging veins tracing paths over his skin. He smiles wide and kind, Sebastian could get used to it.
"Nice. The air's fresh, the dogs are friendly. The woolies a little dumb, but harmless."
"Whoa… You really don't see it, uh?" Blaine laughs and sits down by the fire he started while Sebastian was away. "I mean, how beautiful it is out here. How peaceful."
Sebastian sits down in front of him and takes off his sheepskin jacket, cans of beans and powdered eggs are frying and bubbling up between them, the smell isn't bad, but it's not particularly good either, "Yeah, well." Sebastian says, for once not knowing where to direct his yapping, if not right back at Blaine. "I say you're the weird one. What's up here for you anyway?"
Blaine uses a bent fork to mess with the eggs, it's nothing but a pan of watery white batter, but he treats it with the same care of a full course meal. "Just…" He raises his shoulders, looks at Sebastian and then off over the horizon, above the peaks around them and at the Sun as it slowly starts setting, "Dalton is here. It's better than any other place I've ever been to."
"Nah, you're lying." Sebastian says and stands back up, the honesty once again takes him off guard, but he's sure he'll be ready for it next time. "There's nothing up here but rocks and pasture, I bet you'd find something better if only you started looking." He says, like he himself has ever experienced anything other than hectic days of wrangling his mother or bucking horses and boring ones working at ranches, or up mountains just like this one. "There must be something else-" He says, maybe for both of them, his own honesty painful to acknowledge too, "Something more."
"Well, what is it then?" Blaine questions him again, still kind and curious, not like he thinks he's got everything figured out and Sebastian is the bumbling fool who's entertaining him. He cuts off what's become of the powdered eggs in two and puts some in a metal plate for Sebastian while he eats off the pan, he dumps the beans out of one of the cans right in it with it.
Sebastian follows his lead and copies him, it makes the eggs less hard to get down, but the mushed up, too soft consistencies make his throat close up anyway, "I think we gotta save some of this philosophin' for the rest of summer."
The days move on peacefully, his knee hurts so bad that the commute down to camp now takes Sebastian two hours instead of one and a half and, despite wanting to, he doesn't stick around much. When he comes down for breakfast at dawn, Blaine is already dressed up and cutting lumber, he eats and goes back up to wash himself and keep watch until the early hours of the evening when he goes down and tries not to acknowledge the way Blaine stares at him, follows his moves like a hawk. Out of all the stray thoughts he has about Blaine this is what makes him feel the need to keep some distance, he's too concerned about Blaine's brand of introspecting conversation to make himself stay too long around him. He's used to pretty girls and boys calling him mean and laughing with him anyway, kissing and fucking him where their friends can't see them; not getting questioned like everything has to have a reason. He thinks he's being pretty slick until on one morning of their second week up on Dalton, Blaine raises with him after breakfast and walks him to his horse.
"I'm sorry if I upset you." He says, looking small and unsure, Sebastian has to stop in his tracks to hear him over the labored breathing of his mare, "I did warn you." He puts a hand on Sebastian's horse, "But I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to feel sorry for, Blaine." Sebastian assures him, he's not upset, just ashamed about the way he ran his mouth, but nothing could make him own up to it. The catch is that now that the precarious balance of silence and detached friendliness, they had fallen into, is broken, he wants it all back, even the shame. "Tell you what, I'll bring my bottle of whiskey down for supper and I'll listen while you talk your little heart out."
"I don't think it should be only me talking… I'm a good listener." He says, sounding affronted almost, justifying himself like Sebastian is implying some kind of offense Blaine has already heard being directed at him, "If people actually talk to me, that is." He wonders what Blaine would think of him if he knew the way Sebastian is inspecting him in the secrecy of his mind, how nice it would be to listen to Sebastian pinning on him experiences, he probably never even had, out of a need for projection.
Sebastian takes Blaine's hand off the horse, he thinks about bringing it to his mouth and putting on it a big, wet kiss, but he lets it go and flicks Blaine's nose instead, "See if you can get me drunk enough to do it too then, dollface."
He waits for evening more eagerly than any of the days before, excited about the prospect of doing something that's not watching sheep or too deeply and too silently into Blaine's eyes. He packs up his bottle of whiskey first thing when he gets to his kit, that's still tied down to the same tree where he left it in the morning. The dogs bark as he starts rummaging, then there's the sound of hooves scattering away, Sebastian drops everything and grabs the shotgun; pulls it up, starts aiming where he sees and hears the commotion. By the time his eyes land on the dogs, one is still barking with his tail up and rigid, but nothing's left to shoot, the other dog has a small coyote down and Sebastian has to watch as it puts his weight on it and digs his teeth in its neck. He groans at the scene, but part of him is glad he hasn't had to do the killing himself.
When his horse has ambled her way down to base camp, it's deserted. Neither Blaine, his horse nor the mule are anywhere in sight, just a struggling fire and five cans of beans lined up neatly by the tent. It must be Wednesday, the day that Finn comes up to bring their food, but usually Blaine would be back by this time.
Sebastian doesn't allow himself to be caught by any sort of errand fears, he lets his horse roam and sits his ass down to start working on the fire, breathing in hot wafts of air as the August evening around him turns cold.
Time once again passes inexorably, slow like molasses up here, but it passes anyway. When the Sun dips past his line of vision and Blaine still hasn't come back he allows himself to feel. First his stomach grumbling, famished, then the cold sweat running down his back while his mind replays the scene of the dog and the coyote. The afternoon hours he had to spend gutting and tying that poor dead thing so that the smell of carcass will fend off any more predators from coming too close.
Eventually he decides to jump on his horse and start looking, Hummel has given them dim, cheap little flashlights that surely won't light up much in the dark of a forest so thick the moonlight doesn't reach past the top branches of the trees. There's some hope though, the sky is still a little red and pink instead of a solid block of darkness, so Sebastian resolves himself to venture out, find and drag Blaine back to camp.
Just two minutes down the trail and Blaine meets him, walking up the path on his own horse and with the mule following behind. Sebastian can feel his heart again, beating fast, but beating again, "Where the hell have you been?" He asks and shines the flashlight right on his face, see if he'll smile for him. What the light does instead is pick up and reflect off the wet, red blood on the side of his head, "What in the hell happened, Blaine?" He turns his horse and escorts Blaine up the path and back to camp.
Blaine groans when he pulls himself off the mare and on his feet, a hand immediately raises to the right side of his face, where all that tacky blood is running down to his neck, "Met a bear on the way back. The horse got spooked and the mule took off, it sent all the food flying!" He explains in a flurry of hands and words, getting up and then sitting down again to look at the pots and pans on the fire. Sebastian pushes a water bottle in his hands and he takes it, but doesn't open it, "Did you bring that whiskey?"
Sebastian takes the glass bottle and opens it for him, he watches dutifully as he takes his first sip and winces, then when with trembling hands he goes for a second one he looks away. He put on the fire a pot of water, looking forward to Blaine bringing back potatoes to boil, but now he dips his handkerchief in it, it scalds the tips of his fingers, but he barely feels it. The fabric catches onto the cut on Blaine's head the moment Sebastian presses it against it, Blaine just drinks down more whiskey and shuts his eyes tightly, his own hand comes up to touch the area, "Oh, feels like a whole mess… And we're stuck with beans again."
Sebastian finds it in himself to laugh, happy that Blaine got back and didn't get injured badly. "You look like a damn fool."
Blaine scoffs, "That's so rude. Why would you say that?" He pouts, Sebastian feels his smile widen, he scoots closer to him and puts his free hand on the other side of Blaine's head. He pulls him in towards him.
"I'm sorry." He says, still laughing. When Blaine turns his head to look at him, he steals the bottle off his hand and starts drinking too. "I'm sorry," He presses a kiss on top of his head.
The plans for their calm evening of introspection are thrown completely off schedule, Blaine just spends what feels like long, although amusing, hours complaining about having to eat more beans and Sebastian listens, adds his own complaining to it, just because it feels good. The bottle is emptying fast and their giggling turns a little high pitched, Sebastian's still sober enough to realize they're on the verge of slipping into the bad side of dizzy and drunk.
"Gotta go up with the sheep." He says, Blaine just laughs at him when he tries to stand up and slips.
"Just spend the night here, how are ya goin' back up there? Bet you're already seeing double."
"Speak for yourself, I've got years of good earned experience getting drunk." He finally makes it up on his feet and he's surprised to find everything around him spinning, "Can't be grouped up with the likes of you." He looks down at his left knee, he has to blink until he stops seeing it broken and bent the wrong way.
"Just stay." Blaine gets on his feet too, the handkerchief falls down from his head, but the blood has stopped, Sebastian reaches out to touch.
"You're the scariest motherfucker I've ever met. That really scared me, you bastard."
"Bastard?" Blaine scrunches up his nose, he walks up to Sebastian until they're standing chest to chest, "Don't like this pet name much."
Sebastian hums, "Bet you don't, but that's what you get for your misbehavin'." He realizes his mouth is running off again way too late into the next sentence, "Ought to come down on Wednesday and do all the hard shit myself, oughta keep you sitting nice and comfy in the tent all day, not letting you raise a finger, like a proper doll."
"No shot," Blaine laughs, then raises his fists, "Bet I can take you. Bet I can knock you into next week."
"What? My babydoll wants a fight?" He feels himself grinning, he's so uncoordinated and drunk that drool comes out the left side of his mouth and he wipes at the right one instead. Blaine isn't faring much better, doing some kind of complicated square dancing just to keep himself standing. "Come get it then!" Sebastian raises his hands in fists, but as soon as he does it he's looking up at the starry sky, Blaine gets him with an uppercut and really does knock him upside down. Sebastian ends up on his back, head grazing the white canvas of the tent, he hits the ground and the impact pushes a fit of laughter directly out of his chest, "What the fuck?" He asks to no one in particular. Blaine comes into view, smiling down at him so gorgeous that Sebastian rushes to pull him down into a kiss the moment he can reach up to him, "You crazy son of a bitch, you tryina kill me?"
"No, no, I'm sorry," He smiles still and kisses Sebastian's lips, his cheeks, his eyes, "Got no clue what I'm doing, I'm sorry." He takes Sebastian's limp hand and helps him close it into a fist, "Here, punch me back."
Sebastian looks at his hand, then at Blaine's face, he kisses him again and instead of pushing his fist to his cheek he shoves it down to his pants, "How's this instead?" He grabs at him through his jeans, it's a full handful and a lot of cock that's he's been dying to see. Blaine moans and bites on his fat lower lip, "Yeah, that's better, isn't it? Baby, isn't it?"
"I want you, been waiting for it since the first night."
"Fuck, babydoll, you should have said it then." Instead of yammering about Dalton and feelings, if he wanted to get fucked Sebastian could have done that for him pronto.
"Don't start ignoring me again tomorrow, please. That'll break my heart." He asks, his eyes swim, like all the precious metals inside them are molten down to a sparkly, beautiful liquor. He could get drunk just by looking at him, he's sure, and he knows in the next few weeks he'll have all the time in the world to find out if it's true.
"I won't. No chance." He promises, with no need to measure his words, maybe he'll be able to chuck it up to being drunk, but if he's lucky Blaine won't believe him.
They crawl into the tent, hands and knees into dirt and then cleaned up haphazardly against their shirts. Blaine has a metal tin of Crisco tucked under his covers and with the way his face goes beet red in the fire's light, he doesn't have to explain to Sebastian why that is.
"You been touching yourself?" He comes down on him and speaks directly in his ear, "You been thinking about me?" Blaine looks at him, bleary eyed and tight-lipped, "You have?" Sebastian is self-absorbed enough not to contemplate the possibility of Blaine thinking about anyone else.
Blaine turns his head, he burrows in the covers and pillows thrown over the rough bottom of the tent. Sebastian doesn't want to see him hide, but he's holding himself up with his hands and he doesn't feel stable enough to use one of them to turn Blaine's face. He misses the sight though, so he carefully lowers himself half on top and half beside him, their noses brush against each other now and one of his hands can grab at the meat of Blaine's ass.
"Do you think about me?" Blaine asks around a gasp, Sebastian nods immediately. In the sparse moments he finds between watching sheep and washing himself by the stream near his own camp, all he has done is think about Blaine, with or without a hand on himself. "Have too." Blaine whispers as he comes closer, lips against lips. Sebastian's hand moves up over the curve of his back and settles between his shoulders to pull him in even more.
"'Course you have." The fire that has brought them inside the tent has calmed down to a steady burn, hearts beating in unison and hands holding onto each other without being able to do much of anything, except touch, learn the way their bodies move around their need to breathe.
"Give it to me, then. I've been waiting." Blaine shudders, mouth open and hands searching between Sebastian's legs, he deftly undoes the button and zipper on his jeans. Sebastian rolls on his back and lets him, "Never got to have it before."
The sentence settles in Sebastian's stomach, sort of goes down his throat weirdly and he can't digest it, "Never?" Blaine shakes his head, eyes brilliant in the heightened lights and shadows inside the tent. "Fuck, babydoll. You deserve better than this, I'm so drunk. I won't even get hard."
"This is fine." Blaine furrows his eyebrows and shoves his hand inside Sebastian's pants, sure enough he isn't hard and he probably won't be until morning, no matter how many more sexy confessions Blaine whispers against his skin.
Sebastian tries his own hand at Blaine's cock, he's hard, he can feel him through his jeans. "I'll take care of ya real good." He grabs at the hair on the back of his head, so he can kiss him while he works on his pants and everything underneath. He starts by fondling his balls, already pulled tight against his body, fights with the tuff of wiry hair covering his groin, until he can get a proper hold on him. Blaine moans, loud, so loud it's endearing, Sebastian feels it in his chest, echo all around them like they're in church. "Babydoll," he calls just to respond to him with something, while he starts stroking him.
The air is hot, even up here, even so far from the dying fire. The torrid summers in Texas, the highs of adrenaline and the cold sweats of rodeo. Blaine has the entire world packaged inside him, Sebastian has never met anyone like him, every piece of him made of something Sebastian needs, an answer to all questions, like he's never even been alive until tonight.
He feels stupid for the thoughts crowding his head, when Blaine comes in his hand after the grand total of five tugs and immediately passes out. Then he looks at him and he's pulled in again, brain turning off and heart beating so hard he's sick with it.
Morning comes with soft yellow light through the canvas, the air is a tad too cold and far away there's the low rumble of thunder.
Sebastian sits up, his left knee gives the equivalent of what would be a scream if it had a mouth: a frigid, sharp pain that blinds him momentarily and makes him grit his teeth. His brace is up with the sheep and he's not sure he'll be able to get on the horse to get back to it. He lets himself fall back into the tent, turns his head to the side. Blaine's like a painted angel, rosy cheeks and shiny, little curls. Sebastian puts a hand in his hair, he had no idea this is what it would look like without the pomade he always puts on before Sebastian makes it down to base camp. He scoots closer, sticks his nose in Blaine's dark, pretty hair; he finds his smell there, light fruity perfume, sweat and warmth, human and comforting. The position is pulling his nerves from his lower back to his heel, everything hurts and he's in heaven.
"Sebastian?" Blaine's usual smooth voice is nothing more than a delicious little rumble.
"Yeah, baby." Sebastian's isn't that different, maybe just a bit more airy where it compensates the jolts of ache.
"You're still here…" Blaine says and surges forward to close his arms around Sebastian's middle, his head nuzzles between his pecs. Sebastian only hums and pulls Blaine with him as he turns on his back, Blaine settles on top, the pressure is just right to give relief to every little issue flaring up in his body. Blaine gets up, sits square on Sebastian's lap and Sebastian's hands naturally find their place on his hips. Blaine sighs, "I would love to show you how happy that makes me, but I think I'm about to be sick."
Sebastian laughs, his hands travel up Blaine's back and settle on his head, so he can manhandle him until he can kiss his lips. "I like your hair like this." That has Blaine getting up again and scurrying away, in his haste he knocks a foot against Sebastian's mess of a knee and all he can do about it is take a strong intake of air and squeeze his eyes shut. "Fuck."
"Oh no, did I hurt you?" Blaine is quickly back to his side, this time kneeling at a safe distance with his hands hovering, but not touching. "Oh no and I punched you yesterday, didn't I? Oh goodness, Sebastian…" He's panicking and Sebastian laughs at him.
"Yeah, sorry I was too drunk to get hard about it, I promise I'll deliver next time."
Blaine pouts and narrows his eyes, he's trying not to laugh or not to yell at him, maybe both. "I'm not punching you again."
"Unless I ask, I hope." He grins and Blaine pushes out an exasperated sigh.
"Is your leg in pain? Do you need something? Cold? Hot?" He's back on his feet and out of the tent before Sebastian can answer, "I've got some pills… Dunno if they'll help though."
"Baby, come here." Sebastian calls, he could get up and do it himself, but having someone, having Blaine, fuss like this over him is a little too sweet of a treat to let it already go, "You need to go up to the sheep for me, get my kit." He explains when Blaine is back, dutifully by his side, "And take a look around, see if everything's fine."
"All right." Blaine says and then stays back for a moment, hands fighting each other in his lap, "Is it fine if I kiss you?"
"Oh, doll, you don't gotta ask." Sebastian puckers his lips, waiting for it. He expected a peck, a worried little touch of lips, instead Blaine goes full in: mouth open and tongue, spit and Sebastian forgetting how to breathe through his nose, "Fuck, doll, get goin' before I find the strength to bend you in half."
Blaine smiles and kisses him again like it's meant to be a full stop at the end of a sentence. Sebastian's not sure he wants him to go anymore, but he controls himself. He adjusts his half-erection inside his pants and stares at Blaine in his own stupid mustard pants, as he walks away.
He should be getting up, scrounging up what they have left from last week and what Blaine was able to recover from yesterday's tragic cargo and prepare some food for breakfast. Or lunch, he wouldn't know. What he ends up doing is use his right leg to move apart the tent and take a peek outside; he can't see much so he does eventually sit up, but discovers that the sun has only barely made it past the horizon. He falls back and nestles in the covers for just a little longer, he hears thunder again but closer, then further than before and then nothing.
The familiar scuffling of hooves on dry terrain is what wakes him again next, now the Sun must be way higher up, it's hitting the tent with what feels like the ferocious intent to cook Sebastian inside it. "Sebastian?" Blaine calls.
"Still here, darlin'." He gets out, voice rough with sleep and body one rigid block of ache-ridden stone. He might need to puke, might need a smoke, something to drink, but all he can actually do is stay exactly where he is and wait for Blaine to come around.
"Can I come in?" He asks, Sebastian sees his ostrich boots stop in front of the entrance of the tent. He's a mighty ridiculous man, dressed up like an oil prince to look over sheep and asking permission to enter a tent that smells of cat piss and sex.
"Yes, sir. Come on in." He puts on a joking tone to make fun of him, but when Blaine crouches down and gets inside he's laughing harder than Sebastian. "Sweet pea, look at ya." He's not sure when he had time to wash, shave and put pomade in his hair, but he did and he looks like the sort of guy they put on the cover of Rodeo Sports News. "Can't tell if I'm still dreaming or not."
"Gosh… Bet that mouth got you in trouble."
Sebastian clicks his tongue and winks at him, "Got me out of trouble plenty as well."
Blaine shakes his head, fondly Sebastian assumes, and puts his hat down to show him his bag, "Got your kit."
"Right." Sebastian sits up with a groan, laying down for so long has surely made things worse, but it doesn't matter much with the way tending to his body has turned into a senseless uphill battle. He takes the bag out of Blaine's hands and nods at him, "Thanks." He has to squeeze his eyes shut as he adjusts and starts rummaging for his brace. It's lighter, smaller and less rigid than what he was supposed to keep on to rodeo, but having to put it on gives Sebastian the same exact sick feeling.
"Need help?" Blaine asks, a little too eagerly.
"No." He makes sure it sounds final, Blaine hums and exits the tent. The sound of lumber, flint and then pots and pans follow, by the time Sebastian finds the balance to stay on his feet, there are already powdered eggs, beans and coffee on the fire. He comes out of the tent with his hands on his hips, four fingers splayed against his lower back and thumbs hooked onto the waistband of his pants, that's when he looks down and realizes his belt's still undone. "What about the woolies?"
"All good. I saw you killed a coyote." Blaine says, looking into the fire, moving things around aimlessly.
"The dogs did. Should have seen them, they looked ready to take down a whole pack of 'em." Blaine hums again, finally his eyes pose back on Sebastian, he watches him walk towards him and sit down by the fire, close enough to be a nuisance. He puts an arm around him and pushes his face against his head, he takes in a deep whiff of his scent, "I've had enough of beans."
"I'm sorry, we got potatoes though. For tonight." Blaine shows his pretty eyes and a tentative little smile, Sebastian puts a kiss on the pink cut on his temple before disentangling himself and reaching for one of the two cans of beans bubbling on the fire.
"We should cook ourselves one of the sheep." Blaine laughs at it like Sebastian's joking.
Around noon Sebastian's joints feel sufficiently lubed up to let him brave getting on the horse, she stands still as Sebastian goes through more than a couple of attempts at getting on the mount. "I can go up, instead. I don't mind." Blaine offers with his arms crossed in front on his chest and his gaze going squinty because of what Sebastian infers must be some sort of concern.
"It's all right, babydoll. I'll be back for dinner." The long nerve linking his lower back to his foot flares up again when he bends down with his lips puckered up asking for a farewell kiss. Blaine snorts and obliges, pink, full lips soft like a dream.
The ascent is slow, but not as painful as he was expecting, it's all a little raw and tender, not the big spikes he was feeling in the morning. He has to remember not to crawl. The short section of the forest he has to cross smells fresh and fruity, almost citrus-y, must be some one the herbs the horse is walking on. It makes Sebastian close his eyes and breathe deeply, like a fresh balm the smell travels through his nostrils and all the way down to his lungs; it's a short moment of peace he hasn't been able to get in longer than he can remember. He shouldn't be up here, he's aware, he's too beaten up to be efficient and even though he knows, he's lucky that Blaine doesn't mind, he can't help but feel ashamed of it. Sebastian has never concerned himself with what people think of him and he's not about to start doing it now, despite what his brain might think.
The dogs look at him for a second before going back to looking over their flock, he's not sure what Hummel's even paying them for with how efficient these two are. Sebastian dismounts, he walks up to them and gives them a little scratch on top of their heads that goes largely unnoticed, he sits by them, and even though he would like to, he doesn't lie down and extend his legs, for once fearing the consequences of his actions.
Maybe Blaine should come up here with him, he thinks after a few more quiet moments.
Once the sunset starts tinting the sky pink and red, Sebastian can't jump on his horse fast enough. This time he rushes down, distance makes the heart go fonder, he guesses, and he's also curious to see what kind of mess Blaine has gotten himself into tonight. As the smell of burning wood and sap comes closer, Sebastian hears the low rumble of a song, the voice singing is clear and smooth, lovely like the rest of the man that it's coming out of.
It's an old song, one of those Sebastian has heard a million times but has no clue who wrote it, it's about love and joy, being warm under Christmas. "Little early for Christmas songs."
"No, it's not!" Blaine points at him accusingly, threatening to never say such a thing again, "How was it up there?"
"All well, baby."
"What about your leg, cowboy?"
Sebastian's has the knee-jerk reaction to slur out another good or a well, but he doesn't, "Could be better, I don't think I can do much roughhousing tonight."
"Don't have to worry about that," Blaine stands and comes closer, his hands grab onto Sebastian's soft jacket, "I'll take care of you." Blaine smiles, shy and beautiful. It smells and looks like dinner is ready and just being kept warm where Blaine has laid it next to the fire, instead of on top of it. Blaine takes Sebastian's face in his hands, so he can stop looking at the pots and turn his gaze to Blaine's flushed face, "I'm happy we don't have anything left to drink, I barely remember what happened yesterday. I wanna remember what happens tonight."
"Babydoll," Sebastian sighs, feels himself melt a little as his hands pose on the inviting dip of Blaine's waist. Then he snaps back into attention, "I'm supposed to be sleeping up there, I can't leave the sheep alone two nights in a row." He feels some kind of true sense of obligation, but he mostly wants to hear Blaine beg and watch him bat his eyes at him. It backfires spectacularly and he has to watch Blaine step back and put his hands deep in his pockets instead.
"Oh," He says, "You're right." He nods and his smile turns sad. Sebastian will have to suck it up and do the begging, but that'll have to wait at least until after dinner.
They eat in companionable silence, Sebastian bothers Blaine's legs with the tip of his scuffed boots and stops only when he threatens to dump the boiling water on him. "My dad has always said rodeo cowboys are all dumb as rocks."
Sebastian raises an eyebrow, "The hell we are." He's not drunk, but he's on another kind of high, happy and with his stomach full; he gets on his feet and starts jumping, mimicking a horse between his legs, right arm down, left up holding and waving his black hat around, "He's hanging on for dear life! Only two seconds left! Hiya!" Loud, real laughter comes out of both of them, silly and child-like, the sort of thing grown men don't let themselves do.
"Feels like my dad was right for once!" Blaine slaps his knee and raises an arm to guide Sebastian to sit by his side. Sebastian realizes he's trying to hold him and help him move around his injury, but he finds he doesn't mind much right now.
"Sounds like a rare thing."
"Well, he did send me up here to… Straighten me up. Instead I got a boyfriend in the first two days."
"Oof, yeah, the old man's track record is not looking good." Sebastian pauses, he picks up a runaway piece of cut wood and nudges the stones around the fire with it, "Is that what Hummel is? Your boyfriend?"
Blaine sighs, then raises his shoulders up to his ears and sits back more comfortably, taking time, "He was up until some time ago, we had a big fight. Said we weren't meant to be." A long pause follows, Sebastian darts his gaze towards him, afraid that he'll follow it up with a confession of undying love not directed at him. "I never felt pain like that before, but he was right. Said plenty of things I'll never forgive him for, though."
Sebastian takes a deep breath, he turns a bit on his side, tries not to celebrate too boisterously, he's made a fool of himself enough already, "Letting a doll like you go… I say that's his loss."
Blaine is shaking his head again, in that way that looks fond, his movie star face doing something so gorgeous Sebastian wishes he could paint it, but he settles for etching it in his brain, "No one's ever called me that, still can't tell if I like it."
"I'm willing to bet you do." Sebastian grins at him and gives him a complimentary wink.
"Sleazy. Well, I'm goin' to bed… Better get on that horse, cowboy, before it becomes too dark." He doesn't stand up until he's done giving Sebastian a long once over.
Sebastian stares back at him, without moving his eyes away he puts his hand under his flannel jacket and plucks a cigarette out of the breast pocket of his shirt. He's taking his first drag when Blaine is crawling inside the tent, ass in the air and sheepskin jacket already half off. He settles down on his back parallel to the entrance, so Sebastian can see the painstakingly slow pace at which he's caressing up and down his chest, teasing the buttons of his shirt on the way.
"You're gonna freeze your pretty, little ass off, doll." Sebastian reminds him, but Blaine doesn't listen as he unbuttons his shirt, his white undershirt comes into view and Sebastian stands up to sit closer. His cigarette stays between his lips when he reaches forward to push the tent open and take a better look.
Blaine's mouth is kept slightly ajar, his breathing becomes labored as he takes his shirt and undershirt off. Sebastian moans at the sight, he straightens his back and observes the delicious lines and curves of Blaine's body. He's carved by hard work instead of Sebastian's more careful athletic regime; where Sebastian is wide, full but lithe, Blaine is pure power, well fed strength on a tiny frame, he could fuck him up as easy as anything. Sebastian puts a hand on his hardening cock, does what he can to direct it out of the leg of his jeans, over his thigh and up his hip.
Blaine's belt comes apart next, then the fastening on his pants, his underwear is white, Sebastian swallows at the sight of it, at the obscene way in which it tents, and the click of his throat stands out embarrassingly among the sounds coming from the crinkling fire.
"That's it sugar, lemme see it." He cajoles, scooting a little closer, barely holding back from getting on all fours and ruining himself up again. Blaine smiles, his eyes gleam in the dark, beautiful hazel things reflecting the fire and drawing Sebastian in. His cigarette is slowly burning up to the filter, meanwhile Blaine's hands keep roaming his body. They travel up to his chest, he gropes himself, takes a handful of tit and fondles it, pinches his nipples and throws his head back about it, a moan gets stuck in his throat and Sebastian's sure that's what heavenly songs are supposed to sound like. His palms now smooth down the length of his torso, past the dark hair on his chest and down, down to the line that connects his cock to his belly button. "Go on, angel."
"Thought you were going." Blaine says, eyes full of mirth, well aware of what he's doing.
"Yeah, well…" Sebastian stands just to do something, carefully he angles himself to still be able to look inside the tent, "Something came up." Blaine extends one of his arms out of the tent to grab onto Sebastian's right ankle, making sure he truly doesn't go anywhere. Sebastian lights himself another cigarette and keeps watching as Blaine sticks his free hand inside his underwear and starts tugging. "Going too fast, darling."
Blaine whines up in his throat, "I wanna come."
"Come on, be good. Let me see." At Sebastian's request he lowers his jeans and the elastic band of his underwear. His hand moves down to cup himself and even though Sebastian can't see it directly, he knows the tips of his fingers must be brushing against his entrance. Sebastian puts a hand on himself as well, he squeezes and stays still, sure that if Blaine still wants it tonight, he'll be able to give it to him.
The tin of Crisco makes it out of the covers again, with ease Blaine opens it up one-handed and fits two fingers in the finger-shaped impressions already embedded in the white fat. "You're staring." Blaine says, he bends his legs at the knees and knocks them together, Sebastian can see even less than before, but his eyes are still zeroed in, focused. He catches the wiggling of a finger and a sweet, syrupy sigh of pleasure, "Stop starin' and come in."
Sebastian puts his cigarette out on the sole of his boot and against his better judgment he kneels down and enters the tent. Blaine spreads his thighs for him, Sebastian helps him put his ass in his lap and still looks at the two fingers inside him up to the first knuckle, "Open up." He says and Blaine follows, scissoring them open, "Curl 'em." He's nowhere deep enough to hit that nice little spot inside him, but he throws his head back like he touched something that feels good anyway. "Go deeper, doll."
Blaine shakes his head, "Never," He gulps loudly, Sebastian starts caressing his flanks to soothe what's brewing inside, "Never done that before."
Sebastian takes a shuddering breath, "Come on, then, I'm here." Sebastian gentles him, waits for him without pressuring, "Nothing bad's gonna happen." Blaine's free hand searches for his, he holds it mighty tight once he gets it and then tentatively pushes forward, going in with both fingers. Sebastian clears his throat, sits back on his legs even with the brace on his knee reminding him he shouldn't be doing it, his left hand moves to Blaine's entrance, petting his stretched rim. "Keeping yourself so lose without tellin' me… Should be a crime."
Blaine laughs, but quickly loses it to gasps and moans, while his fingers push forward; slowly they reach up to the hilt, his cock is so hard it stands off his belly and drools precome in a steady flow. "Like this?"
"Yeah." Sebastian nods, his throat is closing up and the palms of his hands are sweating, "Just like this. Feels good?" Blaine nods and starts moving them, he writhes and twitches as the pressure and friction finally starts mounting to real pleasure.
"Oh," He squeezes his eyes shut and Sebastian takes advantage of it to take his cock in his hand, "Oh, gosh." He still doesn't swear, even as far gone as he is, he's still the poster child of a proper all American good boy. Sebastian tugs and pulls, is jerking him off to make him come instead of teasing and in a short few seconds he's reaching his orgasm with a groan, sweet and rough, Sebastian can taste it in the air between them. They both watch as Blaine's cock jolts and spurts white up to his throat and on his handsome chin, Sebastian bends over him and licks up all the spent off his skin, makes sure to keep it in his mouth as long as he can so he can show it to Blaine's bleary, unfocused eyes. He opens his mouth and then closes it, cranes his neck so Blaine can see him swallow it down.
"Best meal I've had since we got up here."
Blaine puts a hand out and grabs at his hair to pull him into a kiss, "Yeah?" He asks and then kisses him some more, somehow the desire fueling him hasn't let his cock soften down, he's still half hard and rocking into Sebastian's lap. "Sebastian, I want it."
"What?" Sebastian asks directly into his mouth, "What is it? Let me hear you talk a little dirty," He licks his lips, anticipates it, ready to pounce like he's powered by brand new metal springs.
"Make love to me." Blaine says instead, holding Sebastian close.
"Oh, sweetheart." Sebastian kisses his forehead and gives it to him without making him wait, makes himself touch Blaine slow and sweet, sticks to him like honey. "Anything you want." He leaves wet kisses down his throat, skims his teeth at his jugular and feels Blaine's skin prickle up into goosebumps, "You're so damn gorgeous. You're a natural at this." Sebastian blindly reaches for the Crisco, he lathers himself first, under Blaine's watchful gaze, and then spreads more around Blaine's entrance, "It'll feel so good." He promises.
He's a little tight still, but he doesn't let out a peep as Sebastian lines himself up and the head of his hardness breaches inside him. Sebastian is being the loudest between the two, now reaching a high he doesn't think he's ever got to before, "How is it?"
"Feels…" Blaine starts and stops, his hands grab onto Sebastian's biceps and he uses it as leverage to push himself further onto his cock, "Good." He breathes out, arches his back; all made of gold, beautiful and solid and opulent. "Feels so good."
"Told ya." Sebastian gives a first thrust, long and slow, makes him really feel all the length of him, the width spearing him open. He pulls out completely and slams back in smoothly, up to the hilt, nudged real close to the spot that will make Blaine see stars. He finally lets out a little fuck, then catches himself, bites on his lips like Sebastian will let him take it back.
"Doll," Sebastian laughs, his thumb pushes past the force keeping Blaine's lips sealed together, he hooks it into his cheek, explores all the soft tissue there, presses down on his tongue, "My babydoll."
"Please, God," Blaine says around his finger and then clamps down on it and sucks, his face is all scrunched up and his body is a beautiful mess of urges and twitching. He's staring up at him, blinking only when the layer of wetness gathering in his eyes needs a little push to roll down his cheeks, Sebastian stops bullying his mouth and smooths his wet thumb over his skin to catch the stray tears. "Please, inside. I want it inside."
"Yeah? Want me to breed ya?"
Blaine moans loudly now, less aware of himself, his whole body tenses up, "Fuck, wait," he says, or tries to, as he raises up and the tightness doesn't let him articulate much. Sebastian looks over him, feels his hole and all the rest of him tighten around his cock, belatedly he realizes he's coming again. "Too much." He says and Sebastian agrees, seeing Blaine come all over himself without even a touch to his cock is making his thrusting stutter. Like a bolt of lightning, he realizes, he's hurtling towards his own orgasm as well. Skin-burning pleasure sparks up from the tips of his fingers and draws back into his core, settling tight at the bottom of his stomach as he thrusts through the peak of his climax and eventually digs the heels of his boots against the ground and pushes inside Blaine until he's forcing him up, making him scoot over his soft covers. He splays his hands around Blaine's waist and keeps him there as he gives him what he asked for, careful not to spill.
"That's so fucking good, doll." He says, once his harsh breathing and the hammering of his heart calm down enough to let him talk, "That's real good." Blaine moves up and kisses him, gently he asks him to roll, so that Sebastian can lie down and he can sit up on his softening cock. Come oozes out of him now, Sebastian can feel it, wet and tacky, between them. "Did this feel like something better than an old mountain?"
Blaine tilts his head, he purses his lips up like he's thinking about it, "Not sure yet, maybe after I get a bit more experience…" He squeezes Sebastian with all his body and then rides him until the Moon's high up above them and they've forgotten all about sleep, their work and the sheep.