Saddle Up Cowboy

SADDLE UP COWBOY

Barely eleven, and I already glistened with sweat. Music pumped out of the speakers on the stage while we crowded the small dance floor. Amanda bumped her butt against my hip. Jon had taken off his cowboy hat, waving it in the air as we danced our hearts out.

The club wasn't large. It didn't take many people to make it appear packed. Spectrum gave us a chance to be ourselves. I knew half the people dancing. The rest had come from nearby towns. Chances are at least one or two were tourists that heard about the club on the internet. Billed as Gay Night, it was impossible to tell who played for what team. Mrs. Hawthorne, straight as an arrow, claimed ‘the gays' knew how to have a good time.

The DJ on stage bobbed back and forth. There was a lull in the music, the beat building while we all prepared. When her arms rose in the air and dropped with the beat, we renewed our jumping about. It could be the electricity in the air or the four bottles of beer, but I was feeling no pain. I'd deal with sore thighs and a cranky back tomorrow. After the cardio workout, I'd have an extra cupcake when I got home.

Jon put his arms around my neck, getting close while we danced. Technically a cub, he was the only other girthy man in the club. Yet, somehow, I was the only one drenched in enough sweat I soaked my undies. Jon and I had dated until we discovered two bottoms didn't make a top. Now, he and Amanda were my weekly dance buddies.

He put his cowboy hat on my head as he swayed to the techno music. Amanda danced with a woman I hadn't seen before. I was jealous that Spectrum had a steady influx of women, but never new men. If she played her cards right, she'd be walking into the comic shop with a hangover and smelling of her new friend's perfume.

Leaning in, Jon pulled my head close. "Looks like a straight man got lost." We spun about so I could have a clear view of the door. I choked when I spotted Simon.

My overactive imagination imagined a record screech as the flashing lights all focused on this beautiful bear. It had been a busy day for a comic book store in the middle of nowhere, Maine. Between the beer and the music, my hormones were in overdrive, and my cock knew what it wanted.

I stopped dancing, despite Jon grinding against my side. Simon wore a button-down shirt tucked into his jeans. If he threw open that shirt, he'd look like every other man here. It was almost comical as he bobbed his head to the music. It continued the debate. How straight was this straight man?

I gave Jon a pat on the cheek before heading toward the door. I could hear him shouting, "Go get ‘em, cowboy," over the thumping bass. As I shuffled through the crowd, I closed my shirt, fastening one of the buttons. When Simon spotted me, I gave him a slight nod toward the bar.

Simon had entered my world. There was no holding back as I wrapped my arms around the burly man. I kept it civil with a few pats on the back before letting go. I would have given him a slap on the ass, but I didn't want to scare him away. Not yet.

"I didn't think you were going to show."

"I wasn't sure I could. But it seems Mrs. Hawthorne's daughter babysits."

Oh. I had thought his apprehension was about coming to Gay Night at the bar. It'd take me a while to recalibrate to the needs of a dad. "Just warning you, Julie is a chocolate fiend. Most likely, she's cleaning out your pantry as we speak."

"Who don't you know?" He laughed before an abrupt stop. "Lucas is going to be wired when I get home, isn't he?"

I nodded. "If you're lucky, Julie will wear him out."

I gestured to the bar. He scanned the alcohol along the back wall. I could see the mistake before it happened. Taking inventory of Spectrum's hard liquor was a wasted effort. Filled with water, the pretty bottles were there for show .

He waved down Patrick. Usually, he was the only straight man in the bar. It didn't stop him from putting on a leather harness and wearing chaps. I appreciated he knew how to get tips from the gays.

"A Moscow mule?"

Patrick pointed at Simon and then at me. We laughed at the inside joke. Patrick hadn't mixed a cocktail in the three years Spectrum hosted Gay Night. Everybody in the bar knew better.

"Welcome to the middle of nowhere." Screw it. I slapped Simon on the ass. "We'll both have a beer. Make his fancy."

Patrick reached into the cooler and pulled out two beers. He popped the caps and put Simon's beer on a napkin. See? Fancy. I slid money across the counter as Simon caught up with the reality of small-town living. I picked up my beer, clanking it against his.

"Welcome to Firefly," I said with a laugh.

He couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he picked up the bottle. With another clank, we both took swigs. It could be the alcohol, the music, or the fact Simon had entered the world of flexible sexual boundaries. I grew bolder than I had at the farmers' market.

"Did you see yourself coming to the country and hanging out at a gay bar?"

He turned around, leaning against the counter. The music hadn't stopped. Amanda had taken her fling to the side of the room. As she made out with her mystery woman, I made a note that she would be coming in late tomorrow .

"I haven't been to a club since Lucas." I noted he didn't comment on the fact he was in a gay bar. "I used to show up at all the new clubs when I first moved to Boston. I was that kid."

"Think you've still got it in you?"

He raised an eyebrow. When I pointed to the dance floor, his hands came up in protest. "There's a good chance I'd break a hip."

"Stop it. You're only what…"

He evaded the statement with another swig from his beer. Simon must be a few years older than me. Maybe ten? I wanted confirmation that this straight dad was old enough to be a daddy. I'd find out one way or another.

He patted me on the shoulder, swallowing a mouthful of beer. "I told Lucas about the convention. He's already coming up with ideas for a costume."

"If you show up in spandex, I'm going to pat you down for all that heat you're packing."

"You've already seen what I'm packing."

It was the first time he referenced our quickie in the mill. It still didn't confirm anything. In a gay club, I assumed he felt more comfortable talking about being balls-deep in another man. I was about to ask when he flicked the hat on my head.

"A cowboy?"

"Oh, it belongs?—"

"To me." Jon threw his arm around my neck, pulling the hat off my head. I cringed at the sensation of slick arms touching my equally slick neck. Jon had no shame as he gave Simon the once over. "Jason, are you keeping secrets?"

I gave Simon a silent, "I'm sorry."

"We didn't come tonight to stand around and drink shitty beer, did we?" He slid his arm from around my shoulder and moved closer to Simon. Jon wrapped his arm around Simon's waist. "I bet this daddy knows how to bump and grind."

"Daddy?" Simon mouthed. Simon might play for our team occasionally, but it didn't mean he knew the lingo. When our eyes locked, I raised an eyebrow, nodding to the dance floor. We came here to dance like fools, and I wouldn't mind a chance to see Simon sweaty.

"What do you say, poppa bear?" asked Jon. I wanted to look at him in horror, but if Jon's drunken antics got Simon on the dance floor, I'd owe him.

Simon threw back his beer and slammed it on the counter. He took a step forward, and Jon celebrated, giving Simon a swift slap on the ass. I wasn't prepared for Simon to grab me by the front of my jeans, dragging me in tow. This wasn't how my dreams unfolded since our time in the mill, but it was the same commanding attitude. Nope, my little cock wasn't straining at all.

Jon followed us onto the dance floor. The techno music had the same thumping bass it did every Thursday. The lights flashed in time with the beat. Even the people were the usual suspects. The only thing that had changed was the beefy bear throwing his hands in the air with reckless abandon .

I wanted to grab him by the hips and straddle his leg. I could almost feel the phantom grip of his hands on my ass as we danced. There remained an unknown between us, and I didn't want to step over the line and spook him.

Jon had other plans.

He wiggled his way behind Simon and ground against my teddy bear. If I didn't know better, I'd say he moved in on my turf. He smiled at me as his hands drifted to Simon's hips and then up the inside of his t-shirt. Jon, that daring bastard. A moment later, Simon pulled his shirt over his head and stuffed it in his back pocket.

Sweet jumping Jehovah. I said a silent thank you to whatever higher power allowed this to happen. He reached out. With a flick of the wrist, I unfastened the button on my shirt. A trio of shirtless, chubby bears swaying to music. I imagined this is what my heaven looked like.

Jon blew me a kiss before he vanished into the crowd.

I would have been content to stare. When Simon pressed against me, it took a moment before our hips swayed in unison. I wrapped my arms around Simon's neck, settling into our groove.

Our eyes locked.

In a small town next to Firefly, we gathered to dance. The queer community from up to an hour away drove to let off steam and be around our own. Spectrum had become our haven. Each night, I went with the hope I'd meet somebody… a special somebody. Every time, it ended the same way. I'd be slightly buzzed, exhausted, and alone.

Tonight, the stars aligned. Loneliness was nowhere to be found.