No Regrets (3 page)

"That's a shame. You ought to get some loving."

Dee shrugged and it looked practiced. "It's complicated. Hell, everything's been complicated." Sighing, Dee hunched over the muffin tin, stabbing at the last few holes.

He reached over, fingers sliding on Dee's wrist. "Hey, breathe, honey. You're not in the public eye here. You don't have to make excuses with me."

Dee nodded, hands stopping and setting the muffin tin down. "I... Scotty, I..."

"Right here, Dee." His heart was telling him that his oldest friend hadn't been held in too fucking long, so he just did it, pulled Dee close and held on.

Stiff as a board for a moment, Dee suddenly leaned into him, arms wrapping around his waist. The blond head landed on his shoulder. Scott didn't push, didn't say a word, just held on, hands petting that long spine. It was gonna be okay. He knew it.

For the longest time Dee leaned against him, seeming to soak it all up. Then he took a long, shuddering sigh and stepped away. "Bet that coffee's ready." Dee's voice was a little gruff.

"Bet it is. I take mine black." He got the rest of the muffins ready, then plopped batter in the tins.

Dee poured out cups of coffee and handed one over, leaning against the counter to drink his own. "So what's your typical day like out here?"

"I paint. I feed the horses. I nap. I paint. I lay in the sun. I wander." He grinned over, licking batter off his finger. "This is not excitement central here."

Oh, that laughter was sweet. "Nothing to do sounds like a slice of heaven to me, Scotty. In fact, I might want to buy a calendar just so I can write and nap and lie in the sun."

"You can put it on the dry erase board on the fridge." He popped the muffins in the oven and set the timer. That way they'd not burn, even if he sat on the sofa and fell asleep.

Dee actually got up, brushing by him and putting "nap" and "lie in the sun" on the erase board in big letters.

Then Dee added "laugh" underneath.

"There you go." He collapsed on the sofa, legs sprawling. "I bet you feel better already."

"I do." Dee flopped down next to him, head lolling back against the cushions. "I haven't been this relaxed in a million years."

And that was after just one night. Give the man a week and he might actually lose those bags under his eyes.

"Good." He nodded, eyes falling shut. Very good.

Drake was lying on a deck chair in the sun, half dozing. Okay, mostly dozing. He'd been doing that a lot in the last few weeks since he'd arrived at Scotty's.

He wore his old jeans and sweats, T-shirts and beat-up Kodiak boots or his tennies, and didn't have to worry if he had mud on his sleeve or if he hadn't brushed his hair that morning.

It was glorious.

He'd forgotten how good it felt to get a good night's sleep, to not have every inch of his life planned and organized and timed.

Lady's head landed on his belly, waking him and making him "oof." She'd taken a liking to him. Lucky for her, he thought she was pretty darned cute. Kind of like her owner, though he had to admit, Scotty'd never licked his face. A shame that. The man was fine.

An old quilt dropped over him, then Scotty whistled for the dogs and wandered away, tight little ass swaying. There'd been a lot of that, too. The little things that Scotty did for him to make him more comfortable, taking care of him and not making a fuss about it--like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey," he called, standing and following. "Where're you headed?" He'd dozed enough for one day.

"I was going to take a ride. There's a blue norther coming and I wanted to get out before it got too cold." He got a warm, welcoming smile. "You still remember how to ride?"

"It's like falling off a bike, right?" Of course it had probably been even longer since he'd been on a bicycle.

He fell into step with Scotty, their shoulders rubbing.

"Mmhmm. Except Tarzan doesn't fall over with you." He'd met all five horses--Tarzan, Cheetah, Junebug, Polly, and Woody. Scott spent a lot of time out there, messing with them.

He chuckled. "Thank God--he'd crush me." He tilted his head. "You sure that big old beast is the right choice? It has been ages since I was in the saddle." Not that he minded looking like a fool if there weren't any cameras around, but he didn't want to ruin Scotty's ride by needing to be rescued.

"Tarzan's big, but he's soft-mouthed and easy and just happy to be ridden." Those warm eyes met his, the grin welcome as spring rain. "I wouldn't steer you wrong."

"I know." And he did know. Scotty made him feel all sorts of right. A little funny in the belly often, too. Like now, with those happy smiling eyes looking at him like that. "Let's do it. Let's go riding before this storm of yours blows up."

Scotty nodded and got the tack out, whistling tunelessly as he did. It was cute as hell, that little warble.

"So what do you need me to do? Aside from stand here looking studly."

"You're doing a damn good job of that, honey. Get the bridle on Tarzan."

He grinned, grabbing the bridle and slowly approaching Tarzan. It went over the head from the front, bit in the mouth, unless he was mistaken. Which was entirely possible. "I am, am I?"

"Yep. You make good eye candy. I, of course, want you for your mind." Scotty came over and helped him get set up, while Tarzan lipped Scotty's shirt pockets.

"Yeah, because to be a singer these days you have to be a rocket scientist." He patted Scotty's pockets himself. "You hiding treats?"

"Yep." Two carrots appeared like magic. "And does that playing dumb thing work for your fans?"

He grabbed one of the carrots, holding it out on his palm for Tarzan as he blinked innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Scotty arched an eyebrow, then snorted. "My ass you don't."

"Nobody cares if I can count higher than twelve, Scotty." Not his fans, not the label.

"I care. I remember. You were always smarter than me. I remember that."

Man, Scotty just kept making him feel good. If Scotty wasn't careful, Drake would never leave. "Yeah? So how come I was miserable and
this
close to a breakdown while you were here in paradise?" He stroked Tarzan's nose.

"I had my breakdown in college. I started early."

"No shit. What happened?" Scotty seemed so together.

Always had.

"I found out that I can't work and deal with groups of people. I found out that too much input makes me short out." Scotty grinned, shrugged. "I found out that twelve jocks, one queer artist, and an empty warehouse? Less than entertaining."

He frowned, not liking the way that sounded. "You get bashed, Scott?"

"Yep." Scotty patted his hip. "Up and at 'em, honey."

He stared at Scotty a moment, and then let the subject drop with a soft, "That's not right."

Foot in the stirrup, he grabbed the pommel and hoisted himself up, the movements bringing it all back to him.

They headed out, Scotty's whistle random and constant, all at once. God, it was pretty out here--quiet and simple and perfect. Felt good, the big horse between his thighs, muscles working as they roamed.

Man, he could get used to this--
was
getting used to it, really. The fact that they could go for ages and not come across anyone totally rocked. Scotty took him all over the property, pointing out this and that, making it easy to just listen, to just be.

He almost didn't notice the way the sky was darkening up, but couldn't miss the way the wind suddenly made him shiver. "We should probably get back, huh?"

"Yeah, we'd best." Scotty nodded, moving them a little faster. Even the horses seemed to want in.

The sky lit up suddenly, and he counted to eight before the thunder sounded off in the distance. "Still a bit away," he noted, the horses speeding up even more.

"We'll be inside before it hits." Scotty didn't look worried. Hell, the man looked tickled.

"Yeah? Cool." He watched a bit longer and smiled, Scotty's grin infectious. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Hmm? What? You don't love the energy in the air?" Scotty leaned back, stretching, riding like he was born to it.

Drake laughed, remembering running with the rain back when he was a teenager. "It's been awhile," he'd admitted. Shit, that seemed to be his answer for everything. All that money in the bank, all those adoring fans and he'd spent the last years
not
living his life.

It was time he did something about that. He shouted "I'll race you!" and took off.

Scotty's laughter followed him, the horses heading toward the barn, knowing right where they were going. In fact, Tarzan sped up even more once the barn was in sight and he nearly took a header, managing to cling in place long enough to get his balance back. He was laughing like mad by the time they hit the barn, feeling wild and free and wonderful in a way he hadn't in ages. It kind of reminded him of the rush of performing for a crowd. A rush that he'd been too tired and cranky to appreciate the last couple tours.

They were both still grinning as they hurried to put the tack away, get the horses combed and fed and settled. The thunder boomed again, close this time, just as they were finishing.

Drake jumped a little, and laughed. "You think the rain'll be too cold to play in?" He had an urge to strip down and go out there and run in it, just be.

"Probably. But you won't fucking melt." Scotty grabbed his hand, tugging him outside.

It wasn't raining too hard yet, but a flash of lightning hit the sky as they closed the barn door, the thunder right overhead now. Sure enough they hadn't taken four steps when the clouds let loose and it started to
pour.

Drake stopped, turning his head up and let it rain on him. "Wooheee!"

Scotty hooted, grabbing his hands and dancing him around in wild circles. Around and around they went and he felt like one of those satyrs. He let go of Scotty's hands to tear off his T-shirt and sweater, the rain pelting down over his skin.

"Jesus." He heard the word moaned out, Scotty staring at him with what looked like hunger.

He stopped moving, stopped breathing, everything in him tightening at that look. "Scotty?"

Scott shuddered, that prick hard and obvious in those skin-tight, wet jeans. "I..."

Jesus, steam ought to be coming off Scott's skin. Scotty wanted him. Him. Did Scotty even know he was gay?

Did it matter?

He licked his lips, tasting the rain on them. "You?"

"I..." Scott blushed dark, head ducking all of the sudden. "Lemme get us some towels, huh?"

"I'm gay, too," he blurted out, the words sounding louder than the thunder in his own ears. He'd never told anyone that, never said it out loud before.

Scott's eyes locked with his, held on. "Since when?"

He snorted. "I imagine since forever, but I didn't admit it to myself until about three days after I'd married Laura." God, he'd been such a fucking idiot.

"That's got to suck." Scotty grinned at him, eyes dancing a little. "It would have been way more convenient if you'd figured it when I was following you around high school like a love-struck puppy."

"You what? Me? You?" He blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah. You. Me. Really."

"Christ, I've been a blind fool for a really long time."

The thunder boomed as if to agree with him, the rain cold-cold against his skin now that they'd stopped moving.

"Nah. I'm your friend, honey. Always." Scotty gave him a grin. "Come on in. It's cold. I'll make coffee."

"Yeah, okay. Just..." He licked his lips again and stepped forward.

"Just?" Scott tilted his head, staring right at him.

"This first." He took another step, bringing him right up into Scott's space. He did this, he could never turn back, never deny what he was again, at least not to himself, not to Scott.

"This first," he said again, pressing their lips together.

He'd kissed and been kissed a thousand times, but shit. He'd never felt it down to his toes, aching inside him in a rush. He felt something inside him break, a wall he'd built up come tearing down. A harsh sound tore from his throat as his lips parted.

Drake heard an answering sound from Scott, the man dragging him close enough that air couldn't get between them. He went willingly, hands wrapping around Scott's arms, fingers curling tight, holding on.

The rain poured over them, but the heat of Scott's lips nearly burned him up.

It couldn't last forever--they had to breathe--but when Scott's tongue pressed in to taste him, he fucking prayed time would stop. He wrapped his lips around Scott's tongue and sucked on it, groaning at the taste. Scott moaned, walking them back toward the house. Scott hit the wall with a thud, one leg curling around to hold him close.

Oh, fuck, this was nothing like how it was with a woman. This was hard and hot and fucking primal. He rubbed against Scott, their bodies all hard angles and bumps. It felt amazing.

They got a rhythm going, Scott humping his thigh like a madman, the kisses getting sharper and harder. The rain pushed at him, trying to steal his heat, but it was no match for Scott, for the pleasure that was building and building. Drake pushed one hand through Scott's hair, the other opened and closed on Scott's arm as he started to shake, every sensation so big.

"It's okay, honey. I got you. Come on." Fuck, had Scott always sounded so sexy?

Between that and Scott's shirt
sliding
against his skin, dragging on his nipples, he couldn't hold back for a second. Crying out, he came in his jeans like some horny teenager making out for the first time.

"Mmm..." Scott's teeth tugged on his bottom lip, drawing it out, just a little longer.

A shudder went through him, his cock throbbing inside his jeans. "Scotty... God." He pressed into another kiss, just humming.

"Mmm. Right here." Scott shifted, muscles tight and hard against him.

He rubbed his thigh against Scott's hardness. "What do you need, buddy?"

"Anything you'll give me, honey." That groan was pure sex.

He pushed his hand between them, working open Scotty's belt, the top button of his jeans. He met Scotty's eyes. "Wanna touch."