Matty woke up the next morning to snuffly wetness on his hand, and he opened his eyes to find a brown and white, shaggy dog on the bed, sniffing his fingers eagerly. Matty sat up. He was alone, except for the Australian shepherd mix, which came at his face next, tail wagging, and tongue ready.
Matty held the dog off. “Hey, hey now. Wait a minute. No tongue kisses. I don’t even know you.”
“That’s Lila.” Rob’s voice came from the bathroom. Then, in a higher pitch, “Lila, come here, girl. Come here.”
Lila jumped off the bed and trotted to her master as Rob said, “That’s a good dog. Leave Matty alone. He needs his rest.”
Rob came out fully dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt, and a thick flannel shirt over it. Very rancher-chic. Morning sun seeped lightly into the room from the window, and Rob sat down on the bed next to Matty. He gestured at a tray on the bedside table. It held yogurt, honey, and some granola in separate bowls.
“I wish I could stay and eat with you, but we’re testing the herd for brucellosis today. If you want, I could have one of the hands run over and take care of the Pages’ horses too. You could go back to sleep. You’ve got to be tired.”
Matty leaned his head into Rob’s palm as Rob touched his hair tenderly. Part of him wanted to play the part, roll down into the bed, bat his lashes at Rob and claim that he was so entirely exhausted from their activities that he simply couldn’t move. Somehow he knew that if he did that, Rob would lean over him, kiss him tenderly, and brush his hair out of his eyes before leaving to do his work. It would be amazing to be babied like that. He missed that kind of thing so much.
Instead, he sat up straighter. “This looks great, and I’ll eat the yogurt, but let me take care of the horses.”
“Are you sure? I could do it myself if you don’t want Terry or Dino to do it for you.”
“No, it’s all good. Besides, I’ve got to get into town to skate today. I’m going to record myself to see if I can figure out the issue with the triple Salchow landing I keep tripping on.”
Rob ran his hands down Matty’s neck, stopping to draw a small spiral in the hollow of his throat. “Can I see you tonight?”
“I’m sure you can. The question is if you will.”
Rob grabbed his hair and pulled him close, laying a kiss on his lips. “Smartass.”
“Yeah,” Matty said. “I’d like to see you tonight too. I’ll call you when I get back in from town.”
“Or, I could meet you in town. I should be done with the testing in time to meet you for dinner and I could show you around a little.”
“That sounds great.”
“Take your time leaving. I’ll see you later.” Rob kissed him. Then, indicating the tray, “Eat something.”
“I’m not anorexic, you realize.”
“I know,” Rob said, winking. He left the room whistling under his breath.
As soon as he was out the door, Lila hopped up on the bed again, her brown and white spotted face in Matty’s personal space, panting and begging for him to pet her. Matty scratched her ear and she plopped down with her head on his leg. Her big brown eyes went from him to the tray beside the bed.
“Oh, I see what this is about.” He moved the tray onto his lap, eating almost all the yogurt under Lila’s hopeful eyes.
***
Back at the Pages’, Matty’s eager acceptance to go out later left him with some worries. He wouldn’t call them regrets, but there was no doubt he’d been hoping they’d fuck their brains out again tonight. What if going out somewhere interfered with that?
On top of those concerns, he was worried about the implications of going out. Was it another date? A public one? What did that say about Rob’s expectations? Matty knew that was something he needed to address sooner rather than later, but he really wanted to get more amazing sex out of this whole deal before he did. Just in case the well dried up when Rob understood that no matter how good they were together, they had no future.
Matty paused in mucking out Daisy’s stall and really let himself feel the truth of that last thought. It made him deeply sad—inexplicably given how little he actually knew Rob. He left the stall to go stare at the horizon, the hills and mountains rolling away into the distance.
If he took everything out of the equation—skating, New York, Moscow, Hong Kong, Seoul, the Olympics—this wasn’t a bad life in Montana. He could even say that so far he’d been pretty happy here, except for the dearth of fashionable people, and the terrible food options at the local grocery store, and the boredom, and the ungodly furniture he had to gaze at day in and day out. But other than that, life had a nice regularity to it, something that his OCD nature could find pleasure in.
Even if he still wanted to feel the teeming streets of New York City around him, or party in Moscow, or go to a boutique and buy some fabulous item that would make his brother confused and his friends envious—he felt good here. Other than everything he was missing, this place was all right. At least he wasn’t distracted from his skating.
After mucking the stalls, Matty headed into the house for a shower and to grab his skating equipment. He was getting a late start, but if it cut into his practice time, or he had to share the ice with the post-school crowd as his punishment for not having mucked the stalls over the weekend, then so be it.
It turned out he had plenty of room to skate and, aside from a young girl practicing shooting a puck into a net, he was alone on the ice. The skating went well, despite the hours he’d spent pursuing pleasure the night before. Once the public free-skate time began, he drove into Kalispell to work out in the gym. It was a good effort, and he quit only a little earlier than normal to hit the showers. Between all the sex the night before, mucking the stalls that morning, skating, and lifting weights, he felt boneless and exhausted.
He stayed under the hot water for a long time thinking of Rob. They’d fucked three times, and Matty would’ve taken it again if Rob could’ve given it to him. It’d been amazing. After riding Rob, Matty had taken his dick on elbows and knees, and he was still a little sore from that one. He turned into the water, and tried to slow his breaths as he remembered Rob moaning, “Your ass is great. You’re gonna make me come.”
His dick fattened up at the memory, so he finished quickly, and grabbed a towel.
It was late afternoon when Matty texted Rob to ask if Rob had finished testing the herd for…Bucephalus, or whatever it was called. He kind of hoped Rob would suggest they meet up at the ranch, because while his ass was definitely feeling the effects of the prior night’s activities, he was very willing to brave it again. The orgasms had been literally incredible. As in, hard to believe. As in, if he hadn’t had them himself, he would not have found a description of them to be plausible.
He had his jeans and sweater on, and his hair half blow-dried when his phone buzzed.
Finished for day a few hours ago. Am at Bill’s Place. On left on way out of town. Can’t miss it. Join me?
Matty read the message twice. Bill’s Place? Wasn’t that the run-down shack of a bar just after Kalispell and before Whitefish, smack in the middle of nothing but ranchland? Okay. He looked in the mirror, applied a gloss to his lips, put on some concealer to cover the places where his skin tone was uneven, and considered. This was Rob and he was at this Bill’s Place joint. So, okay. Matty would go.
He texted back:
Be there in twenty.
***
From the outside the bar looked as though it might tumble down at any moment, and the wooden structure appeared to have never seen the wet side of a paint brush. Yet the inside was tidy—for a bar—and smelled lemony fresh, like someone had just Pledged every table and chair, and possibly the entire old-fashioned wood bar.
Rob sat at said bar, drinking what looked like a cola, and laughing about something the barkeep had just said. The joint was empty except for the two of them, and Matty stood in the half-open doorway, the dust motes circling in the air around him, until the bartender nodded in his direction.
“That him?” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, obviously that’s him.” The dark-haired man wore a plaid shirt and jeans, and a cowboy hat hanging on a hook behind the bar likely belonged to him. He looked in his thirties, although his skin was craggy.
Rob stood up, a big grin splitting his face, and motioned for Matty to join him. “Hey! Come on in! Matty, this is Bill. Bill, this is Matty Marcus. He’s staying at the Pages’ place this winter.”
Now that Matty thought about it, it was strange to be introduced like that. He was used to more of a star-fucker approach, he supposed. He remembered how often his friends, and even some of his family members would say, “This is Matty. He’s on the U.S. figure skating team. He’ll be competing at the Olympics.” Or after the Olympics, “This is my friend Matty Marcus. You might recognize him from the Olympics?”
Matty would then be obligated to poo-poo and play down the introduction, or possibly play it up to look like a diva bitch, depending on the situation. But here he was just the guy taking care of the Pages’ ranch while they were away. It was a trip, and yet he also wanted to pipe up and explain who he really was, because that introduction failed to encompass the reality of him.
Matty shook Bill’s hand at the bar. “Nice to meet you. Is this your place?”
“Since Grandpa Bill died, yep. Sure is.”
Rob pulled out the stool beside him, and Matty sat down, wincing a little because his back hurt. But by Rob’s expression it was clear he’d misinterpreted the source of his pain. A mix of concern, lust, and pride flashed over his face.
As amusing as it was to Matty to see Rob taking credit for his discomfort, he still disillusioned him. “I hurt my back a little today on the ice. I’ll need to ice it down later, and maybe take it easy tomorrow.” He adjusted his posture, sitting very straight since it hurt less that way. “Quadruple Axel. The nightmare.”
“Figure skating?” Bill asked, cleaning his glasses with a very white rag.
“Uh-huh.”
“Get you a drink?”
“Thanks. I’ll have water for now.”
Bill, with his tough guy face, and his deep, cigarette-trashed voice, asked, “Sparkling or tap?”
Matty’s lips quivered as he fought back a laugh. People kept on not being what he expected, and it never stopped amusing him. “Sparkling, but of course.” He lowered his lashes.
“Done,” Bill said.
“Matty’s a competitive figure skater,” Rob supplied.
“Ah, explains the ass,” Bill muttered, handing Matty an ice-cold Perrier, the bottle beaded with water droplets.
Matty blinked. For real? He glanced around the room again. It looked like a honky-tonk out of a movie.
Bill evaluated him closely. “Pretty, too. You sure can pick ’em, Rob. I gotta give you that.”
Matty found himself uncharacteristically speechless, and he opened his bottle of water, taking too big of a swig. The bubbles exploded into his nose, and coughed and sneezed, covering his mouth and nose with his elbow.
Rob laughed. “I think he’s in shock or something. He normally rattles on like you wouldn’t believe.”
“About what?” Bill asked.
“Oh, himself, or whatever. He’s very amusing.”
Matty was still coughing, and he glared at Rob, who seemed to take pity on him.
“Okay, this is Bill. He’s been my good friend since high school. The only other gay guy in my graduating class—”
“Out gay guy,” Bill said. “There are a few guys who are married with kids, but totally never objected to me blowing them back in the day. Or even now.” Bill covered his mouth and coughed, but it sounded like he said, “Eric Brown.”
Rob rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, yeah, Bill and I go back.”
“Popped his cherry,” Bill added with a gleam in his eye.
Rob snorted. “If you call a quick handjob in the back of the school bus when we were fifteen popping my cherry, fine.”
“He’s not really my type,” Bill said. “I like ’em a lot more—”
“Straight,” Rob said. “A lot more straight and a lot more likely to punch him in the face for even trying.”
Bill turned his head and showed his profile. “See my pretty nose?”
Matty said, “It’s a very lovely nose. Soft and flat. Nice.”
Bill laughed. “Yeah, that’s what comes of the kind of guy I like. What can I say? My psychologist says I’ve internalized the oppressor. I just say I like it rough.”
Matty winked. “There’s nothing wrong with liking it rough.”
Bill’s smile twitched with mischief. “Well, Rob. Very pretty—and kinky too? This one is the works, ain’t he though?”
Matty took a moment to reconcile the use of the word “ain’t” by the same man who had just discussed internalizing the oppressor.
Bill slapped his towel down on the counter. “So, how long will you be around? For good?”
Matty slipped easily into talking about his sport, explaining the competition season, the training periods, and the traveling exhibition shows. Bill listened and asked smart questions, and Rob did as well. Although it was clear, to Matty’s touched amusement, that Rob had been researching on his own. He had some questions about the sport and Matty’s competitors that he could only have asked if he’d been reading up on it.
Bill even noticed. “Well, if that’s not evidence of smit, I don’t know what is.”
Matty raised an eyebrow. “Smit?”
“Smit, being smitten, possessing smit,” Bill went on.
Rob said, “Well, I think my smit is pretty obvious, so I won’t pretend it doesn’t exist, but I was actually looking into it with Ben. He’s very interested in the sport, and we both wanted to know more about how it all works. I was hoping to dissuade him, actually. It seems like a hard life in a lot of ways.” He glanced toward Matty like he was apologizing for what he was saying. “I don’t know that I want him giving up so much and maybe not getting anything in return.”
“Did it work?” Matty asked a little defensively, thinking of the determination and passion that Ben had thrown into their work together the prior weekend. The kid had something special, but if he didn’t want to put in the time and effort…Matty understood, but it was still kind of disappointing.
“Nope. It just convinced him even more that he wanted to pursue it. I’m leaving it to him to break it to his mom. I don’t know where we’ll find the money…” Rob trailed off, his eyes growing distant. “Maybe we’ll have more to spare this summer after the goats kid and we sell them for Eid al-Fitr.”
“It’s expensive,” Matty agreed. That was, after all, why he was even here in Montana to begin with. “It’s probably $90,000 a year at this point for me. There’s my coach, my choreographer, the costumes, the skates, travel costs, the help I give my folks, sending my brother to school…there’s a lot of money behind it.”
Rob rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know that we can afford that. I don’t make a lot off the ranch right now. The improvements I made after my dad died cost me.”
“Maybe Anja’s right,” Bill said, and then held up his hands. “Whoa, just sayin.’”
Rob glared at Bill for a moment. “Maybe, but if I sell now…”
“You lose. I know.”
Matty had to admit he was pretty clueless about business, and even more clueless about ranching. “I don’t understand. I thought you said the ranch was worth something, and that was why you’d married Anja and stuff. To secure your son’s future.”
“It was worth a lot.” Rob sighed. “A fortune, really. But then the real estate bubble burst right after my parents died. I had to sell off part of the land to the Pages and take out a lot of loans to get by over the past nine years. That’s how long it’s taken me to transition the ranch from my father’s way of doing things to mine. Now the land’s barely worth what I owe on it. If it hadn’t been for my folks’ insurance money, we’d be destitute. The estate taxes would have wiped us out.”
“If he sold now,” Bill said, “he wouldn’t get any money out of it, but if he holds on, and the market recovers, then he could be looking at having a good fortune on his hands again. A nest egg for himself, and an inheritance for Ben.”
“Right. Or if I build up the goat side of the business, continue to raise the cattle for the Halal market, and make the ranch more profitable, then I’ll have an operation someone’s willing to pay for, if I ever choose to go that route.”
“But,” Bill went on. “Anja’s point is, what’s the good in having money one day if you’re not living your dream now.”
“And I suppose Anja knows just what my dream is, too, doesn’t she?”
Bill held his hands up again. “Listen, I’m just explaining to your new friend Matty here. I’ll shut up.”
“Thank you kindly,” Rob bit out before looking away.
“See now, if this were me and my best friend Elliot, I’d call you a bitch,” Matty said, gesturing at Bill. “And you’d call me a bitch, and then I’d threaten to kill you in your sleep—probably with a stuffed toy, because that’s my M.O.—and then you’d say that you like breath play, and we’d laugh. So, Bill, on the count of three…one, two, three.”
“I’ll kill you in your sleep with a buzz saw. Because that’s my M.O.,” Bill said.
“Bitch,” Rob said.
Laughter broke the tension, and Matty lifted his bottle of sparkling water, clanking it against Rob’s head gently. “Cheers!”
“How did your testing for bovine brain-eating illness go?” Matty asked.
Rob chuckled. “Brucellosis. It’s a bacteria that causes spontaneous abortions in cows.”
“Ew.”
“And it didn’t go so well. Dino showed up this morning with a bred-heifer in poor condition he’d bought off a ne’re-do-well, wanna-be farmer in Beaver Creek. We spent the morning getting her checked out by the vet, dewormed, and then figuring out how adding her will affect our hay supply.”
“You’ll have to test for the bacteria tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Rob sighed. “I’m still a little worried about the winter feeding situation. It’s hay supply in the winter that will make or break a rancher, and the addition of even one head of cattle more than expected can hit us hard, especially a lactating cow with a calf to feed.”
“Will it be okay?”
“Probably. Like with anything to do with ranching, we’ll have to wait and see. I’d have liked a little notice, but Dino saw a chance to save her life and he took it. Can’t blame him for that. If it all works out, that’s one more calf for the market and another milk cow for the ranch, which Bing’s been wanting for a while now.”
“Is he still hoping to make soap?” Bill asked.
“Yep.”
“You’d think he was a queer with his obsession with wanting to make that fancy-schmancy soap.”
“He’s straight but not narrow.” Rob chuckled. “He smells damn good, so whatever he bathes with, I think we could make a killing if we can replicate it the way he wants.”
Matty didn’t have much to say about the ranching—or soap—business. It seemed so real in a way, especially when compared to the ephemeral nature of his own career. Everything Rob talked about came down to flesh and blood, food and water, and the problems of life itself.
An hour later, Rob smiled. “What do you say we head out?”
Matty reached for his bag to pull out some cash, but Bill waved him off. “Forget it. It’s on Rob’s tab. That he never pays.”
Rob shrugged. “Send the gay mafia to collect and I’ll pony up.”
“I’ve got my request for assistance in already, but they’re kind of busy fighting for our right to join the heteros in the misery of marriage at the moment.”
“Ah well. I’ll be waiting when they finally get freed up.”
“Evening customers will be here soon. Time for the mood lights.” Bill flipped a switch and some additional lights came on in the room, not bright or intense, but yellow and dark. It kind of made the place look a little dirty. If Matty hadn’t seen how spotless it was before, he would’ve been afraid to touch anything. Bill turned on the stereo next, and an old country song from before Matty was even born filled the room.
Rob lips quirked up. “My mom danced in the kitchen to this once. I remember the curtains billowing out from the window. She wore a yellow dress. She’d just made cookies. Chocolate chip.”
For the first time, Rob looked fond when mentioning his parents.
He turned to Matty. “Dance with me before we go. Just this song. I know it’s corny, but I’d really like it.” He tugged Matty off the stool. “Come on.”
If questioned about it, Matty would have to admit it was nice being held tight, his face turned into Rob’s chest, smelling his detergent and cologne while the music played. If he didn’t think about it, he could pretend it was a Christina Aguilera ballad they were dancing to, slow and close, circling in one spot again and again. But when it came down to it, he didn’t want to pretend anything to be different from the way it was at all. The country song suited the moment just fine.
Rob hummed a little in his ear and his voice was nice. Matty’s heart slowed, his eyes closed, and he relaxed, moving slowly to the music.
“Not bad,” Rob whispered softly.
The song was over before Matty knew it, and he smiled goofily.
“Now, if that wasn’t the most darlin’ thing I ever did see.”
“Shut it, Bill,” Rob said, also smiling.
Matty said nothing at all. It kind of freaked him out, but he pretty much felt exactly the same way.
***
On the way home they stopped by the Safeway to get some fresh salad fixings for dinner. Matty was incredibly relieved and happy they were going back to Rob’s place. That meant he was going to get laid again, laid again, laid again. It was like a song in his head, and he could have skipped around the store to the beat of it.
Rebecca was working the register, and Matty could feel her eyes following them as they chose the vegetables and Matty spent some time picking out the perfect dessert.
“This is dessert?” Rob asked. “Are you sure? It looks oddly like a pineapple to me.”
“It’s good for dessert. You’ll see. Trust me.”
Rob took the basket from Matty’s hands at the checkout line.
“What are you doing?” Matty asked.
“Buying dinner.”
“Oh no. I’m buying dinner.” Matty fished in his handbag for his wallet. “Don’t even. I’m serious, Rob. Don’t.”
“Hi, Mr. Lovely,” Rebecca said, scanning the items and weighing the fruit. “Mr. Marcus.”
“Hi,” they both said, jostling each other trying to get closest to the register.
“That’s twenty-three-thirteen,” Rebecca said, popping her gum.
“Here.” Matty thrust a fifty at her, just as Rob stuck out a twenty and a five.
“We don’t take anything higher than a twenty dollar bill.” Rebecca watched them with interest. “Sorry.”
“What kind of backwoods, ridiculous store doesn’t take a fifty dollar bill?” Matty muttered, looking through his wallet, but not finding anything smaller.
“Next time.” Rob smiled in a way that was super annoying.
“You know, I can pay my own way, and I will, because I am not a damsel in fucking distress. Do you understand?”
Rob looked vaguely surprised. “I was under no illusion that you were a damsel of any nature, my good sir.”
Matty narrowed his eyes, shoved his wallet in his purse, and turned his back on Rob.
“So, um, do you have your bag, Mr. Marcus?” Rebecca asked. “Or do you want me to use one of ours?”
“Fuck the environment. Use plastic.”
He didn’t really know what had flipped his switch. He was always a moody and sensitive sort of guy. He knew that. He could spin from playful to bitchy in two seconds flat, but he’d been in a good mood when they came in. What was the big deal if Rob wanted to pay? Matty gritted his teeth. He might be smaller than Rob, he might even be prettier in his own way, what with his delicate features and all, but he was not less of a man for it, and he could buy his own goddamn food.
“So, like, are you guys on a date?” Rebecca asked, tentatively.
“No,” Matty said, and walked away, wrapping his scarf a little tighter, and putting his nose in the cold Montana winter air.
Rob exited less than a minute later, his brow furrowed, and his arms gripping two paper bags firmly.
“I thought I said plastic,” Matty said.
“I prefer paper. I can put it in the compost or use it to wrap a present. That sort of thing.”
“Very earth-conscious of you.”
Rob opened his door and got in. Matty climbed into his own car and started the engine. He waited for Rob to pull out, not sure if he was going to follow him to his place or go be lonely and miserable at the Pages’ in protest. It took a few minutes for Matty to realize that Rob hadn’t started the truck and that he was just sitting there staring out the windshield.
Matty waited, trying to decide what to do. What to say. He finally got out of his car and opened Rob’s passenger side door. “What is up with you?”
Rob just shrugged.
Eyes narrowed, Matty climbed into the truck. He might have given in by switching cars, but he was going to make Rob talk first, that was for sure. Rob could make this or break this with the next words out of his mouth, and Matty had a crazy, terrifying hope that Rob would break it. Then he could somehow escape this sudden intense entanglement, even at the expense of great sex, because…fuck, he could already tell he was going to get hurt. Better now than later.
Rob stared out the windshield. He didn’t move, and barely seemed to be breathing. When Matty turned to dart a look out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Rob had his eyes closed, and his head back on the head rest. Matty waited. He waited some more. Rob’s breaths started to come in even, slow measures, like…like he was…
“Are you asleep?” Matty asked, incredulous.
Rob shook himself, and sat up, yawning. “It’s been a long few days. Sorry.” He rubbed at his eyes in a way that was oddly endearing.
Matty’s fingers itched to smooth through Rob’s hair, but he clasped his hands together instead.
“You know, I only wanted to pay because I know you’re saving money for your career,” Rob said, starting the truck.
“And I just listened to you talk about how your ranch is barely turning a profit and you can’t afford skating lessons for Ben.”
“That’s true.”
“So, I don’t need you to decide for me what—”
“Matty, look. I’m not the kind of guy who’s going to tell you what to do with your life, okay? Or with your money. I might tell you what to do in bed, but you always have the right to say you don’t want to do it.”
Rob turned and looked at him, his face and eyes barely visible in the dark of the truck, but Matty could feel his intensity.
“You’re amazing, driven, and inspiring. I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you. I even like that you threw a bratty fit just now over paying for the food, because for some reason everything about you makes me a little crazy in the good way. But I don’t ever want you to look back and think to yourself, that was a waste. I mean that in every way, from the time you’re with me to the money you spend around me. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Matty nodded, speechless.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Good.”
Matty climbed over the gear shift, crawling onto Rob’s lap. His ass hit the steering wheel as he kissed Rob hard. The honking was loud, and he pulled away, tumbling back into his own seat. Rob leaned over, and Matty grabbed Rob’s hair to pull him down, kissing his mouth and his chin, and then nuzzling his neck.
Rob kissed him gently on the lips, nose, and forehead before pulling back. “I’m glad we understand each other.” He ducked his head a little and looked out the window, and laughed under his breath. “I’m pretty sure that Rebecca knows we’re on a date now.”
Rebecca stood in the doorway of the grocery store watching. Matty gave her a little wave and blew a kiss. “That, or she thinks I’m a giant slut. Come to think of it, she wouldn’t be that far off.”
“Somehow I think you’re all blah-blah-blah with that and not nearly enough action.” Rob smiled slyly.
“I’ll have you know that I’ve been incredibly sexually depraved during my relatively short life.”
Rob smiled. “When we get back, you’ll have to show me. I’d love to see how dirty you can be.”