Bad Pennies
By Chris Owen
(This story was written as a birthday gift for
Tory Temple)
"Bidding's going to be high on that one," Jake said
as he and Tor walked away from the pens.
"Yep." Tor nodded, his eyes distant
as he thought. "But that's the bull we need."
"Need more than one," Jake reminded him. "Can't
spend the budget on just one." They hadn't sold their own
cattle yet, wouldn't take them to auction for another month,
but the chance at new blood for their herd had come up and was
too good to miss. The two of them had taken a three day round
trip just to check out the bulls; if they could get a deal,
they would, but Jake wasn't ready to go into debt for bulls
they could find a little later in the season.
"Yeah, I know," Tor said, turning his head to grin
at Jake. "Sure would be nice to take him home, though."
"We can try." Jake grinned back and swerved to avoid
a group of cowboys who'd stopped to loudly discuss a lot of
cattle, arms waving as they argued. There were more than a few
people standing around, and still others gawking or hurrying
to get somewhere; the narrow path between barns was getting
congested. "Let's find some food," Jake suggested,
pointing to the general area of the vendors.
"Think I saw barbeque," Tor teased. Barbeque was really
all there was, aside from one stand that had chili and another
that seemed to be supplying the entire auction ground with vegetables
and fruit.
"Ribs," Jake agreed with a nod. They sped up a bit,
swerving and having to force their way through more than one
crowd of men until Jake wondered if it wouldn't have been easier
to just go around the barns instead.
"Shit, sorry," a cowboy said as he backed into Tor,
almost knocking him over. "Wasn't watchin'--oh. Hey."
Tor had stopped walking and Jake had instinctively reached for
the stumbling cowboy to keep him from falling on his ass, but
his hand stopped when he processed who it was. Floppy blond
hair peeking out from under his hat, blue eyes that were just
a bit too big.
"Travis." Tor's voice somehow managed to sound like
a growl and a surprised statement at the same time, and Jake
noted that he didn't sound even remotely happy.
"Tor," Travis said, nodding his head politely. "Jake.
How ya been?" His voice was thin, the strain showing even
if he did keep his limbs loose.
Jake blinked at him and shook his head, then started walking.
He wasn't about to waste even enough breath to be polite, not
to Travis. He didn't check to make sure Tor was with him, just
assumed he was, even if Jake was going on a head start. By the
time he'd gone ten feet, he was cursing and muttering to himself,
ignoring everyone and damn close to shoving a path for himself
through the pack of bodies in his way.
"Taggart, hold up," Tor said, grabbing his elbow.
Jake jerked his arm back, his face flushing. "Sorry,"
he said, looking away and starting to walk again. He slowed
a bit, though, let Tor keep up with him. "Not your fault,
I know. Just… the fucking son of a whore." He could
almost feel the snap in his words, each one bitten off and sharp.
"Could've lived the rest of my life never seein' his face
again."
"Yeah, I know," Tor agreed. "Just don't…
Christ, calm down a bit, okay? Let it go. He's back there and
chances are we won't see him again in this crowd. Don't let
it get to you."
Jake stifled a growl and tried to make himself relax, rolling
his shoulders a little and flexing his fingers. Tor was right;
there wasn't any point in going off. "Surprised me,"
he said, making himself slow even more as they broke through
the crowd and approached the food stands. "Made it worse.
No time to think."
Tor nodded, his mouth a thin line and the muscle at the side
of his jaw jumping. "I know," he said again, and Jake
realized it must have been just as much of an unpleasant shock
for him. "Let's eat."
Jake wasn't sure he had an appetite anymore, but he ordered
his food and waited while Tor got his. They walked around for
a bit, trying to eat at the same time, and Jake concentrated
on not looking at people's faces and not looking at Tor. He
made himself eat, though the ribs sat like lead in his belly,
and unsuccessfully battled memories. When he found himself picturing
Travis on his knees in front of Tor, he gritted his teeth against
bile and threw the remains of his meal into the nearest trash
bin. "I can't deal with this right now," he said in
a low voice. "I keep going back, and I can't stop it."
Tor stood next to him, not moving for a long moment. "It's
over," he said, his voice just as tight as Jake's. "It's
done and over and we moved on. Unless you've got something to
tell me."
Jake shook his head almost violently. "Told you the truth.
Forgave you for Travis a long time ago. Just can't seem to forget.
Not when he suddenly turns up."
"Look at me," Tor insisted.
Jake glanced around first, not sure he wanted the intensity
of what he'd see, not surrounded by strangers, people who were
living their lives without a clue. But he looked, because he
couldn't not, and he met Tor's eyes as honestly as he could.
"I know you're pissed," Tor told him. "At Travis,
at the world, maybe even at me. But you've got to either deal
with it, right now, or push it away. You dwell on the past,
it'll get worse and bigger and it'll take weeks to get out of
your system. I don't know how to help you with this, but I will
if I can. I'm sorry for what I did, and I've made my amends
to you. We're good now, yeah? Think on that instead, if you
can."
Jake nodded, knowing the truth when he heard it. "I know
you are," he said. "I do. And I ain't mad at you.
Him, I can't say the same for. But I'll try to… Damn. Let's
go look at bulls, all right? Give me some math or something
to think about instead."
Tor nodded and gave him a faint smile. "All right. Got
a few hours before dark, we can look at bulls, talk to people.
When we get back to the motel, I can find something else to
distract you with."
"Reckon you can," Jake said, his smile just as faint.
He felt a good way off from messing around, but if he could
pretend to not be pissed off he could pretend to be horny. Wasn't
like Tor didn't know how to get him there for real, after all.
They looked at bulls. The kept a running tally of the ones they
were interested in, the stock they wanted to watch for a few
seasons, and the ones they wanted to stay away from. They ran
into a few people they hadn't seen in a while and got caught
up on some gossip about which spreads were doing well, which
were failing and why. They met a few new faces, talked up their
own herd a lot, and through it all Jake felt himself letting
go, bit by bit. His back relaxed, he laughed a few times, and
when it started getting dark he steered Tor toward where they'd
left the truck, ready to head to their room for the night and
find out what was on TV.
"TV?" Tor asked, one eyebrow going up and his smile
genuinely suggestive.
"Sure. Background noise," Jake shot back with a grin.
"The walls are thin in those cheap motels." It wasn't
quite back to normal, but it was getting there, and Jake kind
of thought that making out while they ignored the news would
get him the rest of the way to right. If not, sleep could take
care of the rest.
He was actually bordering on eager as they walked through the
parking lot, though he kind of ignored the differences between
being eager for Tor and being eager to forget a little more.
But as they walked, not talking and not taking their time, they
heard the unmistakable sound of a fight off to their right.
Boots scuffing on dirt, fists hitting skin, and voices panting
curses.
"Shit," Jake breathed, turning toward the sounds.
"Should we?"
Tor shrugged but turned as well. "Don't go wading in if
it's just a couple of drunks," he said, leading the way
between a couple of pick-ups. "None of our business."
Jake snorted; he wasn't one to go looking for a fight, and he
certainly didn't go jumping into someone else's messes. But
he didn't like to think that fighting could turn into something
that would leave a man bleeding in his guts, maybe hit too hard
on the head, either. So they walked up to where they could see
what was going on, the dying light reflecting off truck windows
and getting lost in shadows.
Two men rolling on the ground, one with fists flying. A third
man, watching and hauling back to kick at soft spots. Between
the fists and the steel-toed boots, someone was getting the
shit kicked right out of him.
Jake turned his head as he heard more people running up, boots
thudding heavy and hard, and he wondered if it was people like
him and Tor, just coming to check things out, or if it was back
up. His head snapped back to the fight when the one doing the
kicking yelled, "Fucking queer!"
After that, things got a little busy; three or four others arrived,
starting breaking things up by tossing the kicker against the
side of a truck. He retaliated by throwing a few punches. On
the ground, the two men were pulled apart, both of them kicking
and lashing out, only to be whacked right back when their fists
connected with the newcomers.
When Tor started moving into it, Jake made a grab for him. "Hey!"
It was under control, after all, and there might be more bruises
but he'd be damned if any of them turned up on Tor.
Tor threw him off and kept going, grabbing at the man who'd
been the target. The queer. Irritated, Jake watched as Tor got
hold of him by the back of his collar and yanked him to his
feet, shoving him out of the way. It would have been a neat
and tidy rescue except the others didn't really know what he
was doing, and Jake winced as he saw Tor take a punch high on
his cheek before he could back out of the scrum.
Jake gave him points for not hitting back and shook his head.
Stubborn, willful cowboy. The points evaporated when he saw
what Tor must have seen earlier; the man staggering to him,
eyes glassy with drink and balance shot by the fight, was Travis.
"Whooeee!" Travis crowed, stumbling a little. "See
that?" His clothing was torn, blood oozed from a half dozen
scrapes on his face, and his eye was already swelling shut.
Tor came up alongside him as Jake stared and shoved Travis on
the shoulder. "Get going before they try again," he
said gruffly.
"Aw, no way, man!" Travis grinned at him, smacking
his hands against his thighs. "You, like, saved me! Deserves
a reward." He didn't so much as lean into Tor as try to
attach himself to his side; he barely stumbled when Tor shoved
him back.
"Fuck off," Jake said, ice in his veins. "Both
of you." He turned, not knowing or caring what was the
right way to the truck, just not willing to stay there at all.
"Always so cold to me, Jake," Travis laughed at him.
"Now Tor, he was nice to me. Never got the cold shoulder
from him."
Jake didn't even think about, and he certainly didn't try to
stop it--he just did a quick pivot on his left heel, brought
his right fist back and smashed it into Travis' face, almost
smiling when he felt the impact. Travis went down with a squawk
before Jake had even pulled his arm back.
Tor's fist hit Jake just as fast, splitting his lip, and Jake
snarled, trying to keep his footing. He grabbed Tor's shirt
and yanked him close, staring into his eyes. "You'd hit
me for him?" he asked, reacting and letting go of the tangled
reins he held on his anger. He didn't wait for an answer, just
pushed Tor away with a hard shove and threw a quick right to
his jaw before storming off. He barely landed the punch, but
he'd done it, he could feel bone and stubble and the enormous
weight of something inside of him snapping in reaction.
"God damnit," he yelled. "This the way it's supposed
to be? You protectin' that piece of shit?" He didn't wait
for an answer, didn't bother returning the looks of the men
who were still standing around, watching them warily. "I'm
goin'."
He heard Tor tell Travis to be somewhere else and walked steadily
into the growing dark. He hoped he'd picked the right direction,
hoped that he and Tor wouldn't wind up getting the shit pounded
out of them in some other hidden spot; nothing like picking
a fucking cattle auction to air dirty laundry. That they were
together was hardly a secret, but there was a difference between
being 'those two queers who bought Gillian's' and 'those two
queers who look for trouble'.
Jake kept his head down, but he could hear Tor walking behind
him, pacing him. He could hear the others finally scattering,
yelling and calling out insults to each other, some of them
good natured and some not. He couldn't tell where Travis went.
When he got to the truck he unlocked the door with only a vague
sense of being grateful he'd headed the right way, and then
rummaged around behind the seat for the first aid kit. He could
still taste blood, feel it trickling on his chin, down from
the corner of his mouth. He found cotton and a water bottle;
a clean up was about all there was to do.
Some things cleaned up easy. Some, not so much.
Tor leaned on the side of the truck and watched him as Jake
rinsed out his mouth and spit water out. "You done being
an idiot yet?"
Jake glared at him and aimed the next mouthful of water nearer
Tor's boots.
"Yeah, okay." Tor didn't move, but his voice got harder,
a richer shade of dark. "You listen to me, Taggart, 'cause
I'm only gonna say this once. Don't matter if it was Travis
or not, I wasn't about to let some guy get killed just for being
what we are. And you wouldn't either, if you were thinkin' right.
You ain't that way, no matter what you tell yourself."
"He wasn't getting whipped 'cause he's gay," Jake
said, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with the cotton. "He
was getting whipped 'cause he's a stupid shit who doesn't know
when to keep his hands to himself."
Tor moved, lunging forward and pinning Jake to the side of the
truck with his body. "You saw the start, did ya? You heard
them talkin', heard Travis make his pitch and not take no for
an answer? You got better ears than me, baby."
"Get off 'a me," Jake said, pushing on Tor's chest.
"Nope." Tor leaned in even closer, his face next to
Jake's, his breath tickling at Jake's ear, warm and moist. "You
might want to start thinkin' on what this is really all about."
Jake stopped trying to push Tor away, a useless battle. His
breath was coming in gasps and he suddenly realized that the
pain in his cheeks had been from his jaw clenched tight against
the stinging in his eyes. "I hate what you did," he
whispered. "Forgiveness doesn't mean condoning."
"Of course it don't," Tor whispered back. "And
it doesn't have to mean burying the last of the anger, either.
You never once yelled at me for it, you know. You threw a bottle
at a tree. You listened to me tell you about it. But you never
got to… to release the pressure."
Jake snorted, his head falling back on the truck with a thump.
"Don't want to fight you."
"And I don't want to keep paying for the rest of my life,"
Tor said bluntly. "If you pounding on me would kill the
last of this--"
"It won't," Jake growled. The thought of hitting Tor
made him feel faintly sick, and he lifted his hand to touch
Tor's jaw, where his knuckles had glanced off. "It won't."
He followed the touch of his fingers with his mouth.
Tor went still against him, and Jake dragged his teeth over
the spot he'd hit. "Don't like hitting you," he mumbled
against the roughness of Tor's cheek. "Don't like hurting
what's mine."
A shudder passed through Tor and Jake realized he was vibrating
himself, unable to keep from moving as anger turned to something
else, dark and demanding. When Tor fit himself against Jake's
hip they both shuddered again.
"Thank god," Tor said under his breath and he kissed
Jake hard, reopening the split in his lip before Jake could
ask if the thanks was for Jake not hitting him or for the fact
that they were both hard like stone.
It didn't matter, though; nothing mattered, other than the way
they were rocking together, Tor thrusting him up against the
side of the truck, his hands buried in Jake's hair and tilting
his head precisely. There were bites and grunts and Jake pushed
back, one leg hooked around Tor's so he could get the angle
just right, rub on Tor's thigh just like he needed it.
"Mine," Jake said again, as if there was any doubt.
"Mine," Tor said back, pushing hard and biting down
on his neck. "God damn it, gonna make you believe it."
"Do." Jake's eyes had closed, unable to focus on anything
at all. All that mattered was the body between his legs, the
mouth working up a mark on his neck. "Love you."
"Fuck!"
He felt Tor come, the jerk and crash of it spilling right over
the one and into the other, and he could feel the stain soaking
into denim. He laughed with it, his soul soaring as he followed,
the sound of Tor panting out the words ringing in his ears.
"Love you back."
There were some things that you had to learn the hard way, Jake
knew that. He knew that some things came back again and again
and that sometimes exorcisms didn't take. But he also knew,
standing there in a parking lot with a mess in his pants and
tears on his face, that there were some things that were untouchable,
places no one could reach and damage. Tor was his salvation
and he wasn't ever going to let him go again, no matter how
many times Travis turned up. Bad pennies were just bad pennies;
Jake and Tor, they were worth more than that.
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