31. Bede

Chapter 31

Bede

" D o you want to come to my tent?" asked Galen, and when Bede didn't respond, he felt another tug on his belt loop.

"Yes," said Bede, because of course, while Kell might be in Marston's tent, he very well might be in tent number eleven, reading a book, waiting to hear all about how Bede's night out had gone.

He let Galen lead him like a well-trained pup to the path that went along the front of the team leads' tents.

Of course they could have gone through the woods and not risked being seen, but Galen seemed eager. It was just as well, for by the time they reached Galen's tent and tiptoed up the wooden steps to the platform, Bede was more than ready to devour Galen, or be devoured by him.

Galen had just about pulled Bede's snap-button shirt out from the waist of his blue jeans, when Bede started doing the same to him. The dark evening air cooling on his skin made him shiver, then Bede soothed him, stroking his sides, his waist, with warm fingers, leaving Galen breathless.

"Did the stuff get here?" Bede asked, peppering a light kiss to Galen's mouth, to his neck, along his collar bone.

"It did," said Galen, boldly as he turned on a flashlight and placed it on the small shelf so the light spread itself on the ceiling of the canvas tent.

"Amazon to the rescue," said Bede with a smile.

Galen's answering smile and the sparkle in his eyes were as bright as if he'd been showered by moonlight. Only there was no moon, and no stars, just the quiet shadows of the green canvas tent as they undressed and tumbled into the clean-sheeted cot.

Galen let Bede lead the way, as though he was standing on the edge of something and might fall.

But Bede would not let him fall. Rather, Bede took the stuff that Galen pulled from the shelf, and opened the small plastic bottle of lube with one hand and dexterous fingers, not even looking down.

Then, hugging Galen close, their breaths mingling, the warmth between them rising, he prepped Galen from behind, lubed finger going in, then two. Gentle and sweet. Slowly, slowly, as though he might be anointing Galen for some holy ritual. As though only the most careful of touches was allowed, the lube cooling on his skin, the ease of his fingers inside of Galen, causing a low groan to build inside of him.

"Face to face," said Bede in a whisper. "It's better this way."

With a sweep of his hand, Bede trailed his lube-cool fingers across Galen's cock, sweeping along its hard length. More shivers, more slick-soft sounds as Bede slid the lube down his own hard cock. Then, when Bede reached for the small, foiled condom, Galen gasped out loud.

"Don't," he said. "Don't use that."

All of this went against Bede's normal protocols, but in that moment, he wanted skin-to-skin and nothing less. His body surged forward, demanding it. He felt his eyes blazing as he silently demanded it, looking right at Galen, into his dark eyes.

"Okay," said Bede, a little breathless himself as he hugged Galen close and then released the tension in his muscles, his hand going between his legs, guiding himself to Galen's anus. "Okay."

Bede felt the sweat drip from his forehead as he lifted himself above Galen and eased Galen back on the pillows.

The night air, sweet with coolness, swept across the side of his cheek as Bede eased himself inside of Galen's body. Eased and withdrew, eased and withdrew, the cadence mesmerizing, the rhythm slow. As if they had all the time in the world. As if Bede's patience was endless, but endless only for Galen in this moment between them.

He picked up that rhythm, feeling joyous, triumphant when Galen tossed his head on the pillow and arched his neck, his whole body seeming to beg for more, and then more.

"C'mon," said Galen, guttural, low, a sound meant only for Bede's ears. "Don't hold back."

Cupping Galen's hips in his hands, Bede moved even closer, shivering at the feel of Galen's warm thighs on his own, spreading for him, then clasping him. Which urged him to move faster, his hips snapping as he drove himself into Galen's body.

The moment when the world collapsed around him, his seed spilling inside of Galen's body, his heart was full. Full of the push of desire and the thick, soul-deep urge to hold Galen to him and never let go. Never let go of this feeling of connection, the sorrow of its imminent passing, the sorrow of the future tomorrow when he and Galen would be separated at summer's end.

Heat washed over him, taking with it those soft feelings, replacing them with his body's own urges, then he pulled out so he could curl his fingers around Galen's cock and worship it with his mouth, and feel and taste Galen's hot, sweet release.

As they settled in the cot, breathing hard, and then softer, twined together like warm ribbons, with only the soft cotton sheet pulled up, Bede felt himself relax for the first time in hours. They had something together, and this was now. Tomorrow could not be counted on, but then, it never could be. At least not in Bede's world.

He twirled Galen's hair around his fingers as Galen traced lazy swirls across his chest. Then Galen sighed, and Bede looked down.

The only light they had was a flashlight, which gave them light enough to see by, but left shadows to hide in, so he couldn't see Galen's expression, only feel his soft breaths across his skin.

"This was good," said Bede, drowsy in the dark, but focused on Galen at his side.

"You seemed stressed earlier," said Galen, then added, "But when I asked, you didn't say."

"Okay."

That was fair. Galen seemed like Winston in that way, that the sharing should happen in balanced measures. Tit for tat.

This made Bede's heart ache all over again so, braving his own internal warnings that he should just shut the fuck up, he told Galen about Winston. Not just about how much he missed him, but about all of it. The years they spent together.

"We'd known each other forever," Bede said. "Winston was always by my side. Always on my side. He made me laugh, like you do. And yes, he was a criminal, like me."

"And now he's gone." Galen's hand became still on Bede's chest, the palm warm, fingers spread out as if to catch Bede's heartbeat.

"He died," said Bede, short. "There was a shootout the day I got arrested. A bullet from the other gang got him and he bled out before the ambulance arrived."

Bede left out the part about the incompetent, unwilling cop, and that he blamed him and that the only reason that cop wasn't dead already was that a gang member had shot the gun that killed Winston. He held all of that back. There was too much rage in the idea of this to unleash it on the gentle-hearted Galen.

"His name was in your file. Winston Ludlow." Another soft breath as Galen lifted his chin to look up at Bede. "I knew he was on your team, but I didn't realize he was your partner. There was no mention of it." After a pause, Galen bent his head and kissed the soft curve of Bede's chest, an acknowledgement, a blessing that he knew would never be enough. "I'm so sorry."

"I've had five years to get over it," said Bede, attempting to shrug it off, only managing a half-hearted twitch of one shoulder. "Though I don't suppose I ever will."

"Sometimes you never do," said Galen, sounding wise. He reached up to loop his arm around Bede's neck to pull himself up so his head rested on the pillow next to Bede.

Bede turned on his side so he could look at Galen, and absorb the lines of his beautiful angular face. Those silvery gray eyes that seemed to search for answers to questions he didn't even know how to ask.

"I've not gotten over my dad dying. Don't suppose I ever will."

"When was that?" asked Bede, reveling in this new information.

"Last summer," said Galen with a hard, little swallow. "Spring and summer. Cancer took him fast, so it was mercifully quick, though I didn't think that at the time. Only that I wanted one minute more. Just another second. Anything. He died in hospice. They took good care of him and me, both. Now I've got the family farm, and have no idea what to do with it."

"Tell me." Bede, his heart speeding up a bit at the idea that he and Galen trusted each other not just to bare their skins, but their souls.

With a hard-drawn breath, Galen began to speak. He talked about the farm and the current tenants. About lavender and goats and bees. About how he'd sat at the kitchen table all of last winter and stared at the snow, overwhelmed by the decisions needing to be made. About everything, fast and urgent, as if he'd never talked to anybody about any of this up to that moment.

"I didn't want to do this program," said Galen, a bit rueful, his mouth curving into a smile. "As you probably guessed. But I owed Leland because he held my job for me while I took care of my dad. He offered me a loan, as well, to keep the farm going, but I turned that down because then I'd owe him even more. But he's a great guy. Seriously. If not for him, I'd still be up at the guest ranch, I guess. Shoveling shit. Taking care of guests."

"Is it better here?" asked Bede.

It didn't matter the answer. He just had a sense that, like Winston, Galen needed someone to flip the switch open so he could get it all out. Then, unburdened, he could better figure out what he needed to do. Bede was more than happy to be that guy.

"It is and it isn't." Galen rolled onto his back.

Bede rolled too, propping himself up on one elbow, his hand on the flat of Galen's belly, pushing the sheet down a little way, creating a curve like a white wave against his skin. And waited patiently while Galen seemed to prepare himself that Bede wouldn't like what he had to say.

"It's good money, and the work is interesting. You guys are interesting, that's for sure." Galen laughed, full throated, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Bede. "I will say this. Not all ex-cons are alike."

"Did you think we were?" asked Bede.

"I did."

"How?"

Galen seemed a little reluctant to answer, so Bede peppered his mouth with small kisses, then laid his head on the pillow next to Galen's, his arm looped over the top of Galen's head, fingers again in Galen's silky hair.

"That you were just dumb. All of you." Galen shook his head, then cozied himself into the curl of Bede's arm, his body. "Weak willed. And not very interesting. I've learned none of that is true, though I still don't get how someone could live a life of crime." With a shrug, he flailed his free hand as if to say, There's nothing you can tell me that would change it.

"Yeah." Bede let out a long-drawn breath. "I get that. Before I went into Wyoming Correctional, I thought there were two types of criminals. The ones you could trust and the ones you couldn't."

"And now you know."

"Yes, now I know. There's as many kinds of criminals as there are people." Bede laughed a low laugh, then kissed the plane of Galen's cheek. "Look at how much we've both learned! Gold stars all around."

Galen laughed in response, then shifted to turn into Bede's body, a curve of warmth to match Bede's own.

Bede's arms came down to circle around Galen's shoulders to draw him close. His blood raced at the added closeness, groin tightening, the back of his neck getting hot.

"Are you good for another round?" he asked, leaning in to nip at Galen's ear.

"Yes." The response came with no hesitation as Galen arched his neck, his hair spilling on the white pillow. "Yes," he said again, and his chin came down, his gaze on Bede's mouth. Flicking up to his eyes, his own eyes darkening to gray smoke. "Yes, please," he said. And then, again, "Yes."