29. Bede

Chapter 29

Bede

G alen was nothing like Winston, but in a subtle parallel, he ate his popcorn the same way that Winston used to. With a cupped handful of popcorn held to his mouth, munching on the first kernel to encounter his tongue and teeth. Then he crunched away, a horse at its net, watching Cool Hand Luke with avid eyes.

Unlike Winston, however, he didn't laugh at the bits that were screamingly funny to criminals, like the egg-eating scene. Galen did seem to appreciate Cool Hand Luke's continual defiance, at least until the end, when Luke got killed, and then Bede realized that Galen didn't like the movie at all .

"I suppose we could ask for a Disney film next time," said Bede, leaning close so only Galen could hear. The response he got was a silver flash from those gray eyes, and a slight shrug.

"At least they don't have chain gangs anymore," said Galen, taking another scoop of popcorn, holding it to his mouth. One or two kernels fell to the floor, but he ignored them.

"Actually, they do," said Bede. He'd never been on a chain gang, or a work camp, as the younger inmates called them. "They're mostly in the south. Arizona, I think. Maybe Oklahoma. Alabama?" He didn't really know, except from the grapevine at Wyoming Correctional, and he hadn't cared to investigate further. "I heard the one in Arizona is pretty humane. I don't know about the others."

Galen shifted in his seat, not answering, and it was easy to see that the subject made him uncomfortable.

When the next movie started playing, the growing darkness outside the mess tent made it easier to see the grainy black and white images on the projector screen. This one was The Defiant Ones, an older movie about two convicts escaping from a chain gang while chained together.

Bede had heard about this movie, but never seen it. He wanted to stay and watch, but one look at Galen told him Galen did not want to see it, and that he'd really love to be somewhere else altogether.

"Shall we go?" Bede asked, leaning close, one hand on Galen's thigh to signal his intent. Not just go, as in leave the mess tent, but go , leave together, and end up in Galen's tent together.

It'd have to be Galen's tent, because the last thing Bede wanted was for Kell to walk in on them. After all, Bede's tent was half Kell's.

Galen drew his attention from the screen and focused on Bede. His dark eyebrows lowered as he thought.

"Where?" he asked, his voice a bit husky, as if he already knew the answer to that.

"Your tent, I think."

Those four simple words had an effect on Galen that Bede could hardly keep up with. Surprise. Then desire. Then doubt. All of this flickered across his sharp features inside of a heartbeat.

"C'mon, it'll be fun," said Bede. Fun had different meanings, of course, but he didn't think Galen misunderstood him.

"Fun as in arcade fun, or fun as in haunted house fun." This was not a question.

"Definitely the second one," said Bede with a grin and a small laugh. "C'mon."

He stood up, and while he didn't offer his hand to Galen, he felt as if he had. From behind, someone threw a handful of popcorn at both of them.

"Down in front!"

Bede led the way, slinking along the outside of the row of tables, almost tiptoeing down the wooden steps. There he waited for Galen, who was seconds behind. In the semi-darkness of deep twilight, Bede followed Galen along the path to his tent, fourth along in the row of tents designated for team leads.

They went up to the wooden platform. The light wasn't on, so Bede waited while Galen unzipped the tent and stepped inside, giving Galen one more chance to back out if he wanted to. But he didn't back out. He held the tent flap open like an ingénue on opening night.

"Come on in," he said, stepping back, the single overhead bulb casting a long shadow over the floor. "And we're going to do this my way."

"What do you mean, my way?" asked Bede, already laughing as he wrapped his arms around Galen's waist and pulled him close. "Like Frank Sinatra?"

Galen laughed, burying his face in Bede's neck, his breath warm, the laugh moving his body in a gentle way.

"He was arrested, you know," whispered Bede into Galen's hair.

"For what?" Galen didn't lift his head but instead brushed his nose and lips along the muscles of Bede's neck, making him shiver.

"For seduction," said Bede. "That's what I read in an article once."

He ducked his head to kiss Galen's temple, pulling his arms closer, making Galen's body arc a little way back.

"I told you we're doing this my way this time. In bed."

Galen rose up and pushed on Bede's arms, and for a quick second Bede imagined that Galen wanted him to let go. He was about to. Then Galen clasped his hands along Bede's forearms, stroking with his fingers.

When he began to tug Bede's shirt out from his jeans, Bede realized how this was going to go. Galen was no shy flower, no ingénue, but rather a man who wanted Bede. A combination that Bede was unable to resist.

Even if they were together for only for this time, a short span in the middle of a hot Wyoming summer, it might be enough. Or it could be too much.

Bede was feeling just a stab of trepidation when Galen gently leaned forward and kissed Bede lightly on the breastbone, letting Bede's shirt drop along his shoulders. Then he used his hands to tug the sleeves off all the way and smiled up at Bede at this slight accomplishment.

"You're all muscle," Galen said, his fingers tickling along the inner side of Bede's arms. "And these tattoos—I love them."

"Got ‘em way before I was arrested," said Bede, chuckling low in his chest, standing as still as he could for Galen's inspection as he looked down at his own arm. "Getting tats in prison is just a way of getting an infection as fast as humanly possible. Wouldn't get one behind bars on a bet. These are from a tattoo artist in Denver. I told him what I wanted, and out of respect for the Maori people, they are stylized but not actually tribal tattoos. If you see what I mean."

"Maori?" asked Galen. "Why Maori?"

"I dunno." Bede shrugged slightly. He'd never really been able to explain, even to himself, why he felt drawn to the Maori culture, though his interest might have started after watching a rugby game where the All Blacks team performed their traditional haka before the start of the World Rugby cup match. "Just ‘cause."

Galen traced the edges of the blocks and curves that went over his shoulder, and a little way down his left arm. The curve along his neck swooped to represent an ocean's wave. All black, dark as night.

"I'm not a tattoo guy," said Galen, under his breath as if to himself. "But these are nice."

"Nice," said Bede in mock anger, pulling Galen to him so they were hip to hip. "Hours and hours I spent in the chair and these are nice ?"

"Very nice," said Galen, amending, punctuating the words with kisses along Bede's collarbone, which made him shiver. "Pretty damn nice."

"C'mon," said Bede, not wanting to wait any longer. "You said bed. Let's do bed."

"It's a cot really," said Galen with a snicker.

Bede wanted to swallow him whole. Instead, he used deft hands to strip Galen to the skin, all the while absorbing the pale angles of his body, the jut of his hips, the softness of his belly. The shiver that ran through Galen as Bede placed his full palm on Galen's thigh, squeezed a little, then let go.

"You are delicious," said Bede, his voice guttural and low as he pulled Galen's naked body against his clothed one.

"So are you," said Galen. "But you should be naked, too, so I'm not on my own here."

Gladly, Bede tore off his clothes, tossing them in a heap near where he'd piled Galen's clothes. Then he pulled Galen into his arms, and half-closed his eyes with a sigh at the delicious feeling of skin-on-skin.

Galen's cock was hard against Bede's belly, and his own cock had stood up and taken notice long before that. He was so ready he was weeping from the tip, and there was an insistent pull in his groin that told him to go fast, even though he wanted to go slow.

"Oh, shit." Galen's whole body jerked in his arms.

"What?"

"I don't have any stuff."

"Stuff for what?" asked Bede, getting a pleasant eyeful of the sweet blush that danced high on Galen's face. He knew what Galen meant, and playfully teased, "Stuff for Parcheesi?"

"No," said Galen, then his mouth opened, and he laughed and said, "I mean lube. You know that's what I meant."

"We don't need lube," said Bede, desperation rising in him that they should not stop. "We can get along this time. Order it later. We're sure to use some later. I just want to?—"

It would take too long to explain, so Bede pushed Galen to sit on the bed, then went to his knees, spreading Galen's thighs with both hands.

"Jesus, Bede, here."

Bede looked up to see Galen holding out a pillow, then Galen leaned forward and urged Bede to use it for his knees. "The floor is too damn hard for that."

"Agreed," said Bede, using his fingers on Galen's knees to spread his legs again. "I just want to do this."

"Fine."

Bede felt Galen's fingers lifting his chin, found himself caught in the beautiful snare of those gray eyes.

"And then I'm going to do it, ‘cause I don't want this to be one sided like the last time."

"Yes, boss," said Bede, then he laughed at Galen's face, the play of emotion there as he seemed to remember their daytime roles. Boss and worker. Parol officer and parolee. "Don't think about that now, okay? Just enjoy."

"Okay."

With satisfaction, Bede watch Galen lean back on his elbows, watched him spread his thighs further than Bede had asked him to. How Galen's eyes closed, his longish hair becoming ribbons on his shoulders.

Now Bede could get to work. Could lean close and take in Galen's warm scent. Could run his mouth over the hardness of Galen's cock, soft, dry except for the clear sheen of moisture on the top.

Bede licked that quickly, felt Galen jump a little, then licked again, more slowly this time. He drew his tongue down Galen's cock, once, twice, then leaned up to suck the entire of Galen's cock into his mouth.

Galen's cock was hard, the quiver of his whole body unstilled by the pressure of Bede's hands on his knees. Bede could sense each tremor that went through Galen with each suck of Bede's mouth on him.

And savored it, the quivers, the taste, the hum of delight that Galen made, as if he'd waited his whole life for Bede to come to him, for Bede to go to his knees and take Galen in his mouth all the way down. All new, every sensation rippling through him, as if nobody had ever done this to him before.

"Good?" asked Bede, pausing to ask, just to make sure.

"Uh," was the only sound Galen made, as if he was overwhelmed by pleasure and could not gather even a single thought in that beautiful head of his.

Bede had to stroke his own cock to quiet it, to tell it to be patient, even though he was on the verge of coming, just from that single sound.

He hurried his adoration of Galen's cock, sped up his sucking, a bit of stroking as he took his hand and caressed between Galen's spread thighs, cupping those tight balls, leaning to lick each one, patient and slow.

"Oh."

The small sweet sound Galen made told Bede that Galen was about to come, and though he wanted to linger and then linger some more, he knew he wouldn't last through another sound like that, so he rose up and sucked harder, stroking the length of Galen's cock, swirling his tongue, and savored very jolt of Galen's body as he came in Bede's mouth.

Swallowing, Bede leaned back, sweeping his hands along Galen's quivering thighs, slow, and warm, and quiet. And laughed as Galen struggled to push himself up from where he'd collapsed on the cot.

"Bede," he said, a smile in his gray eyes. "Now you, right? Now you."

"Now me," said Bede.

Though he could have tended to Galen's needs all night, he knew Galen had meant it when he'd said they were doing it his way. That they would not only be using the cot, they would share the pleasure, and not have it be only one way. Even if nothing else had made it clear that Galen was a good man, a very good man, this did.

Bede crawled on the cot, straddling Galen's hips with both his legs, and laughed when Galen tumbled him to his back in a haphazard sprawl. Galen leaned close, close enough for his hair to tickle Bede's face. Then Galen kissed him, giving him a taste of himself, such an intimate gesture that Bede's heart sped up.

"Do that again, I'm going to come in two seconds," he said.

"Can't have that," said Galen with a quick smile. "Be good for me now."

"Yes, sir," said Bede, going utterly still as Galen slithered to the floor and pulled Bede's legs where he wanted them, bent over the edge of the cot.

Bede stared at the ceiling of the tent, the pair of moths going in circles around the light, as if they were at a dance, and the lightbulb was the center of the dance floor. When he felt Galen's hands on his shins, he looked up, and yes, Galen was smiling at him from between Bede's knees, looking at Bede as though he'd discovered something wonderful in him.

Shoving every thought out of his head, past, present, future, Bede lay back, and flung his forearm over his eyes.

"Everything okay?" asked Galen, his hands sweeping up to Bede's knees, then going still.

"Yeah, just—" Bede stopped to catch his breath. To still the pang in his heart that it had been so long and the last person to touch him had left the earth over five years before.

But he didn't want to think of Winston. Not now. He had something special right before him, and that was what he wanted to treasure, to take with him in the dark when he fell asleep.

"Just hurry, cause I'm not going to last."

Galen obliged him, using his hands and his mouth, sweet and quick, to bring Bede to pleasure. His mouth was warm, and the sensation of sucking, the swirl of Galen's tongue, was enough to jolt Bede into coming before he could even take a breath.

He loved the feel of Galen licking him clean, the strokes to his quivering belly, but he didn't take his forearm from his eyes until he felt a last, soft kiss on the inside of his thigh. Then Galen sat up and moved over Bede, pressing his chest to Bede's chest, an embrace of body and heat that surrounded him with the beat of Galen's heart.

"Seriously, are you okay?" Galen asked with a soft kiss to Bede's shoulder. "Did I hurt you?"

"I'm good," said Bede. He pulled his forearm away and saw the concern in Galen's gray eyes. "Just some ghosts, is all."

"It's been a long time, yeah?"

This question was asked with warmth and kindness, and when tears prickled in Bede's eyes, he blinked them away as fast as he could.

"Longer than for you, probably," said Bede, putting a flip of impudence in his voice to distract Galen. Then, in spite of his earnest desire to stay awake so he and Galen could have a good cuddle, perhaps one that lasted until the end of time, he yawned hugely. "Man, that swim."

"Yeah," said Galen. "Me too." His yawn echoed Bede's and then he smiled, petting Bede's chest with long, slow, warm strokes.

"Get your laptop and order the stuff before we both fall asleep," said Bede, pretending to be gruff, as though Galen had been arguing with him about this the entire night.

"Yes, sir," said Galen and, with a laugh, he got up, pulled on his boxers, and tugged his laptop from the shelf. Then, while sitting on the edge of the cot, he opened it up and started typing. After a few clicks, he looked up at Bede.

"It'll be here tomorrow," he said.

"Can I stay?" asked Bede, and then hid a wince at Galen's expression, which told Bede that maybe all of this was too much, too fast, for Galen. "I'll go," he said.

"You can stay the next time," said Galen, folding the laptop closed, and replacing it on the shelf. "I just need to—" He paused to tuck his hair behind his ear.

"Get your head around it."

"Yeah."

Galen leaned to kiss the middle of Bede's chest, but he was too far away, and the kiss landed smack in the middle of Bede's stomach. And since he was very ticklish there, he curled up, burying his laugh of protest in Galen's pillow.

"Next time for sure," said Galen, and now his kiss landed in the middle of Bede's back, and it felt like a secret message that everything would turn out just fine, if only Bede had a little faith. In himself. In Galen. In the future.