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Roughstock: And a Smile Coke s Clown - 62
"You bet." He couldn't even remember what the day
was supposed to be like. It didn't matter, really, as long
as he was with Coke.
Oh, right. That had been his plan.
Have Coke.
Score!
Roughstock: And a Smile Coke s Clown - 63
Chapter Five
"Hey, Cajun. How's Bell doin'?"
Jesus, he'd got his phone ringer turned off, and he'd
missed about ten zillion phone calls, easy. Coke shook
his head, heading into the kitchen to feed the dogs while
he chatted. What was worse was he didn't even really
miss it.
"He's better every day. Stubborn. Tired."
"I bet. How're you holding up? Y'all gonna have your
turkey dinner there?" Thanksgiving. Right. Coke needed
to find out what all he was supposed to do. He needed to
call Nattie, too, find out what to send the kids from
Santa...
"Shit. The family is all ready to do us up." Beau
snorted, and Coke had to grin.
"You think he'll be home come Christmas?"
"I sure as shit hope so. How are you, cher?"
"Real good, real good. Me and Dillon, we're just
taking it easy."
Dillon'd got him a bunch of pillows, and the man's
bed was as good as his.
"Good. You needed some rest."
"Yeah, it was a long finals." And he was getting older
every day.
"Tell me about it. That last ride was harsh." Beau
chuckled.
"No shit on that, Cajun. No shit on that."
"Anyway, my people are planning on deep-frying a
turkey in the hospital parking lot."
"Good Lord and butter." He hooted, tickled bone-
deep. "I'd like to see that, I surely would." Except that he
didn't want to miss Thanksgiving here, with Dillon.
"You got snow and all." Beau sighed, and the sound
was a touch sad, but Coke reckoned the man had the
Roughstock: And a Smile Coke s Clown - 64
right to be a little down. Hospitals wore on folks. "We
might here, too, but I ain't got outside in days."
"Is... is he gonna be okay? For real?" He should have
moved faster, got in there.
"He is. I promise, cher. I have never lied to you,
huh?"
"No. No, you ain't. If you need me to call Bonner's
daddy about a truck, I can."
"That would be good, Coke. I just don't have it in me
to look right now."
"I'll handle it. You know I will." He sighed, rubbed
the back of his neck. "Okay, cowboy. I gotta make some
phone calls."
Jason. Nattie. Bonner.
"Okay, cher. You take care. Give clown boy a noogie
for Sammy."
"I will, you." He hung up and made himself another
pot of coffee, feeling like there was a weight on his
shoulders. He really needed to call folks. He did.
"Hey, babe. What's up?"
He looked over, realized he was rubbing the back of
his neck. "Talking to Beau. Sammy's doing better."
"Yeah? They having Thanksgiving at the hospital?"
Dillon came over to help out.
"Yeah. You want some coffee? I missed, like, ten
thousand phone calls."
"I do, and I know. None of them were urgent." Dillon
started rubbing his shoulders.
This groan tore out of him, damn near hurting, really.
He hated the fucking phone.
"Let it go for a bit, babe." Dillon rubbed harder,
really digging in.
"I..." His knees buckled a little. "Fuck, that's good."
He shouldn't just... but he did, damn it. He needed
this for a little.
Roughstock: And a Smile Coke s Clown - 65
"I got you, babe. I would tell you if anyone needed
you." Yeah. Yeah, Dillon was a good guy.
"Uh-huh. I got a wicked headache, you know?"
"I can tell." Dillon took him by the hand, sat him
down at the table.
He went, leaned his head on his hands, trying to
stretch out a little. "I made us coffee."
"You rock." Something went into the microwave, and
before he knew it, he had a nice, hot neck pillow on his
skin.
"Oh, damn."
Dillon made him feel so fucking good. Like he wasn't
eighty thousand years old and busted.
"Mmm." One hand stroked the back of his head.
"Better?"
"Yeah. Yeah, sorry, cowboy. I got all..." Tense.
Aggravated. Worried. "...caught up."
"No need to apologize, babe. You love your people. I
get the benefit of that." Dillon kissed the top of his head.
"You're my people." Sometimes he thought that he
ought to be guilty for having someone who loved him so
good.
"I am. So yours." Now the slippery man just slid
between him and the table, landing in his lap.
That made him grin, made him happy where nothing
else could. "Well, hello there."
"Hey, babe." He got him a peck on the lips. "You just
need to focus."
"Focus." He leaned and took another of those kisses.
"Mmmhmm. You need to be one with the clown."
That came with a little wiggle that made his eyes cross.
"I can handle that, I think." His hands found Dillon's
hips, rubbed a little bit. "It snowing outside?"
"It is. Just a light dusting." Those lips rubbed his
cheek, Dillon's ass moving on Coke's lap.
Roughstock: And a Smile Coke s Clown - 66
"That's good. We oughta take a walk tomorrow
morning, explore some."
"Sure." Those clever fingers moved up his arms, then
to his shoulders, digging in a little again.
Coke hummed, his forehead against Dillon's. "You
got the neatest eyes, honey. Clear as all get out."
"Yeah? I like yours. Kinda hazel-y." They rubbed
noses, too.
He took a deep breath, relaxed some. "We're basking,
cowboy." It felt pretty damn good, actually.
"We are. There is no bad there. I'm thinking of
getting us a heat lamp." That had him chuckling.
"Lizard boy." He swatted Dillon's butt playfully.
"Anything for you, babe." Dillon wiggled harder, his
breath coming fast.
"You okay?" He leaned in, lips brushing Dillon's
again.
"I am." Hugging him tight, Dillon hummed. "I'm here
with you."
"Yeah. Damn, we're fixin' to have a holiday, you and
me. It... Shit, Cowboy. Sometimes it's so good you just
can't believe it."
"I believe." That smile told him how frickin' happy
Dillon was.
How real it was.
"Come on." He grabbed hold and stood, bringing
Dillon with him. "Let's go channel surf and play tonsil
hockey."
He had them cuddled up on the couch before he
remembered the coffee.
***
Dillon got out all the stuff he'd picked up at the REI
in Reno for Coke. Long undies. Double socks. A hand
Roughstock: And a Smile Coke s Clown - 67
warmer. Flannel. Yeah. He knew Coke had hiking boots
in his bag. That would do for Coke's first foray out in
the snow. They'd have to get the man new gloves, as the
ones Dillon had would be a bit tight, and Coke needed a
new coat, but a man had to try those on.
"Babe? You about ready to get dressed?"
"I'm dressed, cowboy." Coke came into the bedroom,
looking stunning in a flannel shirt, a quilted flannel on
top of that, and a pair of jeans.
"Do you have longies on?"
"Huh?"
God, that was cute.
Texans.
"Long undies." Dillon picked up said longies and
waved them.
"Man, I bet you look hot wearing that. You got 'em
on?"
"I do." He was vain enough to want to wear denim,
but not crazy enough to make that his only layer. "You
show me you wearing them; I'll show you mine."
"That's fair, least for me." Coke gave him a grin and
started unbuttoning.
"Oh, it's more than fair." He would get to see Coke
naked. Coke just got to see his underwear.
"Pshaw. You got that belly, that fine ass."
His cheeks heated, pleasure warming him right up.
"Thanks, babe. I like that you like."
"I like. Lemme see." The shirts were tugged off,
giving him a look at that broad, fuzzy body.
Dillon's fingers flexed, wanting to touch. He loved
everything about Coke, from the scars to the tattoos.
Coke opened his belt buckle, started working off the
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