Taken in Hand

by Jane Davitt


The water's lapping warm and deep around Buck's chest and he sighs happily and sinks down until it's kissing his neck. In the tub in front of him, JD makes an answering sound, an ecstatic grunt, and Buck grins, his mind going from pigs rooting happily in their swill to the squeals and cries and oh-my-mys he'd overheard listening in on JD and his lady friend.

"You missing that Emily?" he asks idly. The skin on his toes is beginning to wrinkle and he supposes he should think about getting out sometime soon. "Want me to point you at another woman? Once a man's had his first taste, he tends to get hungry mighty often."

There's an agitated splash from JD's tub and a muffled curse. "It wasn't my first time!" JD tells him. "And, no, I don't. I'll find my own women, thank you kindly."

"Haven't noticed you looking," Buck points out. "And judging from the commotion in that stable, I'd say you'd make some woman mighty happy."

"So you were listening." JD doesn't sound surprised enough, which sets off warning bells, jangling loud.

"Yep." Buck scratches an itch on his leg and starts to listen real closely to what JD's saying. "I was worried about you. First times can be --"

"It wasn't my first time!"

"No, it wasn't, was it?" He's guessing, but… "Because nothing happened, then or ever."

"Goddamn it!" The curse this time is loud enough to echo through the room and JD hauls himself half out of the water and glares back at Buck, face scarlet from more than the water, which is cooling off now, anyways. "What is it to you anyway?"

Buck calmly soaps his chest. "A man who puts his life on the line like you; a man who's shot and been shot at; well, let's just say you shouldn't die never having known the love of a good woman, or the touch of a bad one." He grinned, sweet and dirty. "Good or bad, pick one who likes what she's doing and you'll have yourself a whole lot more fun."

JD can't blush any hotter, but he sure as hell tries. Then the indignation fades from his face to be replaced by a hesitant curiosity. He sinks back into the water and clears his throat. "Buck?"

"Mmm?"

"The ones who like it…"

"Yeah?"

The words come tumbling out. "What do they do? I mean, I know what happens, course I do, but I've heard stories --"

Buck exhales, a low, long whistle. "Oh, JD, you have no notion."

"I know I don't." JD's getting snippy again. "It's why I asked, but you know what? Forget it. Just forget it." There's a defiant splat, as if a palm's struck the water. "I'll find out for myself."

Buck pictures the conversation JD might have with the next willing woman he meets and winces. "Boy, you can ask me anything," he says with a large generosity. "Because I've done it all."

"Really?" There's a shocked, astonished squeak in there which Buck doesn't take kindly to.

"Hell, yes," he says, a mite huffy. "If a man can do it to a woman or have a woman do it to him, I've done it." He reconsiders that sweeping statement, remembering some of the less savory appetites he's run into over the years. "That is to say, a normal man. I don't do nothing…" He searches for a word and comes up with one he recalls a preacher using with a salacious lick to his lips, the filthy minded old buzzard. "Perverse."

"Perverse?" JD swallows hard, the sound clear. "Oh, God, Buck, there was this one thing -- but how do I know if it -- if it's that?"

"Hold on there," Buck says. "Chances are anything you heard about that tickled your fancy ain't more than milk and water mild so calm down. What is it?"

"I've heard…" JD's voice drops to a shamed, thrilled whisper. "Some women will -- they'll touch you -- there, you know, with their -- their mouths."

Bick bites his lip. Hard. He can't laugh at the kid. "Mmm," he says in a strangled murmur. He takes a deep breath. "Some do that."

"And it's not -- it's not perverse?"

"Not in my book," Buck says heartily, letting some of his amusement out now he can do it without hurting anyone's feelings.

"Have you ever --?"

"Hell, yes."

"And is it -- is it good?" JD sounds wistful. "I -- I think about it sometimes. Imagine it."

"It's like a little piece of heaven," Buck tells him. "'S'long as they don't bite."

"Warm and wet…"

Buck squirms a little, his hand dropping automatically to his cock, perking up and showing an interest, before he catches himself and redirects it to his knee. Knees are safe. "Yeah," he says hoarsely.

"Licking at you like you was a dish of ice cream on a hot day."

"Oh God, I love that," Buck says with a groan and gives up the battle. His cock's smooth and slippery in his hand and he arches up so he can work it quietly, no tell-tale noises from the churned-up water. "There was this one girl, Susie her name was, and she could wrap her tongue around you and --"

JD gives a startled, stifled moan and there's water on the floor now and Buck knows what JD's doing and he closes his ears and closes his eyes, and does it harder, letting himself slide back into the tub. It doesn't take long for either of them, the soft sounds that escape their lips mingling in the steamy air, the knowledge of what's happening a few feet away oddly exciting.

Buck wants to watch the kid do this, he realizes, wants to see his face twist and crumple and then smooth out, his mouth hanging open in a silent cry as his climax washes over him. You learn to do this quietly, you learn to do it with small secret movements the man in the bedroll beside you can pretend he doesn't hear. JD's not learned that lesson well and Buck's glad of it somehow.

He comes, a sweet, sharp tremble racing over him; not as good as when he's with a woman, no, but better than usual when it's just him and his hand, and lies back in the clouded water to listen to JD finish. He's seeing the kid up against a wall, a shadowy figure kneeling before him, coaxing out those sweetly pained sounds, those grateful gasps and choked-off cries.

He thinks he could get hard again, just picturing that. And his knees aren't that safe, after all, now are they?

JD gives one last satisfied whimper and the water in his tub sloshes back and forth a few times and then settles.

Buck stands, wraps the thin towel around him, and ruffles JD's wet hair. "Want me to find you a woman who'll do that?"

JD doesn't bite his head off this time. Just lies there, stomach painted with come, wavering lines of it, disappearing into the water, and smiles.

It's answer enough.

Maybe not the answer Buck wanted, but he'll tuck that thought away, deep down.

Really deep.


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