Watering Hole

Disclaimer: They belong to MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy. Not mine, no money.

Watering Hole

Chris had scouted the spot a few weeks ago while he and Nathan were escorting a prisoner to stand trial out Socorro way. They’d watered their horses nearby, and he’d taken a few minutes to head upstream, just to see what was there. What he’d seen… well. He’d long since stopped looking for beauty in the world, but that beauty sometimes took him all unaware.

He and Nathan had mounted and continued their slow trek homeward, but the spot – as close to a piece of heaven as he’d seen in while – wouldn’t leave him alone. When they arrived back in town the next day, the thoughts of the clear blue water he’d found made him think that a bath might be a good idea. And when he found Ezra lounging in one of the bathhouse tubs, he knew exactly why he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Convincing Ezra of that had been another matter entirely. In the end, he suspected it only had worked because he’d somehow managed to intrigue him enough that he was willing to leave the saloon.

Though I suppose the promise to make it worth his while didn’t hurt, Chris thought, lips quirking in a grin. Seem to be sayin’ that a lot. One of these days, it ain’t gonna work anymore…

Chris had pushed the pace a little today, so they would get there before the heat of the day really started, and they were nearly there. The trail wound up a steep incline, but from his previous visit, he knew it flattened at the top. He let his horse pick its way up the trail through the scrub, leaning forward to make it a little easier. The stream trickled merrily along next to him; he could hear Ezra’s horse behind him, hooves crunching on stone, following close.

Ezra hadn’t said much since they packed up their bedrolls this morning, but Chris figured that was because he wasn’t much for rising early. Even so, Chris had let him sleep while the coffee heated in his battered pot, watching the sun creep along the blanket until it touched his face and woke him. Don’t regret not usin’ that time for travelin’ instead, Chris thought, as his gelding gained the top of the rise. Not at all.

He urged his mount forward, down toward the water, but turned in his saddle to watch Ezra’s face as he took in the spot. Ezra’s chestnut was only a pace or two behind, so he didn’t have long to wait.

Ezra’s eyes sought him out first, and then he caught sight of the grotto, and his mouth opened slightly.

Chris grinned. Yeah, it is a pretty spot, ain’t it?

The pool was as crystal clear as any water Chris had ever seen, a mirror reflection of the blue sky above. It was almost completely surrounded by tall red and grey rocks, standing around it in a horseshoe shape like they were guarding it from any intruders. In fact, the only way in was they way they were using, nothing more than a faint path through the scrub down to the rocky edge by the water. Water trickled in a steady stream over the tall rocks at the far end; it would have been a waterfall if there had been more force or more water. The way the rocks there plunged down into the pool without even a hint of shore made Chris think it was deep there – probably ten feet or more. The water ran out again not too far from the end of the path, having carved a notch in the rock ledge there, and became the rivulet they had followed up.

On the opposite side of the outlet stream, there was a wide span of nearly flat stone, close to the water’s edge, which slowly grew into the towering rock surrounding the other end of the pool. The pool itself looked to be twenty or more feet long, not quite that wide.

It was a long moment before Ezra managed to tear his eyes away from the view. When he met Chris’s gaze again, he was smiling. “Well, Mister Larabee,” he said, urging his mount toward the water, “you certainly have found a lovely spot.”

Chris’s grin widened. “Thought you might like it.” He pulled up at the end of the path and swung off. There was a little grass, tough and wiry, hiding amid the scrub; it wasn’t much, but it’d tide the horses until they were ready to leave again.

When he glanced up from unsaddling his horse, he saw that Ezra had yet to dismount; he was staring at the water again. “Can’t go swimmin’ from horseback,” he said, lowering his saddle to the ground.

“Swimming?” Ezra’s grin widened enough to let Chris see the glint of his gold tooth. “Why, Mister Larabee, was it your intent to drag me out here so that we might go skinny dipping together?”

“Wasn’t planning to do it alone,” Chris replied, still smiling. He tethered his horse, then hefted his saddle and carried it across the outlet stream to the rocky ledge.

Ezra dismounted, stretched, and began tending his horse. After laying out his bedroll, Chris took off his gun and settled down to watch, leaning back against his saddle. In short order, Ezra turned out his horse, tethering it close to Chris’s own, and brought his gear across the stream.

“I notice that you haven’t yet disrobed,” Ezra said, setting his saddle down near Chris’s.

“Just waitin’ on you,” Chris replied, trying for his most innocent look – which he knew wasn’t very. “Figured you got so many layers, I’d better let you get a head start.”

Ezra’s lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. “Is that so?” He took off his hat and placed it behind his saddle, then took off his coat, folding it carefully. “Perhaps you simply prefer to observe me removing my clothes.” The low-slung gunbelt quickly followed.

Chris felt his lips curl upward once more, and settled back against the saddle more comfortably. “Won’t deny that I like watchin’ you,” he said, pitching his voice low.

Ezra’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his fingers slowed over the buttons of his vest. “I am… most gratified to hear it.” His eyes were intent on Chris’s face, even as he unfastened each button. “Though I might wish for a little reciprocation…”

Chris gave him a lazy smirk. “You ain’t far enough ahead yet.”

One eyebrow rose. “Then I shall attempt patience.” He folded his vest with the same care, then shrugged off his suspenders, never looking away. Chris resisted the urge to dampen his own lips as Ezra’s long fingers worked at the tiny buttons of his shirt. He had not put his tie back on that morning, something for which Chris found himself grateful now. In only a moment, Ezra’s shirt gaped open and he pulled the tails free from his trousers. The shirt, too, was folded once he removed it, and laid with his other clothes.

Chris sat up and took off his spurs and boots. When he looked up from taking off his socks and stuffing them into his boot tops, he saw that Ezra had paused, hands at the buttons of his trousers, to study him. “You still ain’t ready to go swimmin’,” he said, rising. The rock was warm beneath his bare feet.

“Ah, but as it appears you are finally ready to disrobe, I wanted to pay you the same avid attention you have paid me.” Ezra’s eyes raked quickly down Chris’s body and up agan, and Chris felt the touch as if it were physical. “You are not the only one who likes to watch,” Ezra finished quietly.

Chris grinned. “If you’re watchin’, you ain’t undressin’,” he said, fiddling with the button at the collar of his shirt, drawing Ezra’s gaze to his hands.

Ezra huffed, hands on his hips, but he didn’t look away. “Maybe that’s true for you,” he replied, “but I am more than capable of performing both those tasks at the same time. In any case,” he went on, eyebrow arching, “I believe that I’m now far enough ahead of you for you to join the race.”

“Never said it was a race.” He undid the buttons of his cuffs and the first few down from the collar, then pulled the tails free from his pants and shucked it off over his head. “But if it was, you’re be behind again,” he said, smirking as he dropped the shirt to his bedroll.

“I’d count it well worth the loss,” Ezra murmured, sitting to yank off his boots. His eyes never left off roaming over Chris’s chest and arms, and he licked his lips again.

The teasing, the tongue and the weight of Ezra’s eyes fanned Chris’s impatience. Quickly, he skinned out of his tight pants and his drawers, leaving them in a careless heap on his bedroll. Ezra was in the midst of fighting with the buttons of his own drawers when Chris stepped into the water.

The pool was shallow by the flat stretch of rocks; there was a narrow shelf there, covered only by a foot or so of water. Chris stepped onto the rock shelf and discovered that the water was cool there, but not too cold. He glanced over his shoulder at Ezra, who was stripping out of his drawers in an uncharacteristic hurry, then moved off the stone and into deeper water.

The water was much more chill away from the sun-warmed shallows, Chris found as he waded deeper. The floor of the pool was mostly smooth rock, worn by ages of water passing over it, and it sloped rapidly away from the ledge, so that only a couple strides in, it was already nearly chest-deep.

Behind him, there was a splash and Chris turned. Ezra was nowhere to be seen.

Before he even had a chance to get angry – damn fool divin’ in when he don’t know how deep it is! – something grabbed onto his ankles, trying to pull him off his feet. Chris took a breath and ducked underwater deliberately.

Clear as it was, the water still muted the sunlight. Everything wavered as the water flowed around him, but Chris could easily make out the pale flash of Ezra’s back and arms. As soon as he was under, Ezra let go his legs and kicked off toward the far end of the grotto. Immediately, Chris gave chase. When he looked down, the bottom of the pool seemed dark and far away.

Ezra didn’t come up for air until he’d gotten to the rock wall. He bobbed up to the surface, water streaming down his face, one hand against the rock to help keep himself afloat. The wide grin he wore made Chris’s urge to dunk him in retaliation just disappear, and he slowed his approach, let himself drift in close. He looks like he’s really enjoyin’ this, he thought, and something unfamiliar and pleasant warmed inside him.

The water swirled around his legs as they both treaded water. He braced himself on the rock next to Ezra, half-turned to face him. The desire that had been kindled earlier by watching Ezra slowly, teasingly strip off his clothes, only to be somewhat cooled by the temperature of the pool, flared back to life at the sparkle in those green eyes, the tempting smile, and Chris reached out, hand sliding easily into his wet hair to draw him close.

He got a fleeting kiss – the taste of minerals in the water, the feel of pliant lips cool against his – before Ezra slipped away, pushing himself off the rock and back toward the other end of the grotto. As he dove underwater, he kicked, making a big splash that sprayed Chris in the face. When he finished spluttering and wiping away the water, he saw Ezra floating on his back in the middle of the pool, seemingly unconcerned and unaware… except for the smug little smile playing about his mouth. The need for revenge now uppermost, Chris pushed off the rock with all his strength, arrowing toward Ezra, and managed to drag him under when he couldn’t get out of the way quite fast enough. A moment later, Ezra managed to twist free. He surfaced laughing, and the chase was on.

It ended when Chris pinned Ezra against the stone shelf near where they had left their clothes. Too out of breath to speak, he just panted, feeling Ezra’s body shake against his with choked laughter and gasps for air.

It was the wriggle that pushed him over the edge, though. Ezra shifted between the rock shelf at his back and Chris in front of him, as if trying to get away, but that small movement reminded Chris that there had been more than just revenge in his pursuit. He leaned closer, touched his lips to the side of Ezra’s throat, then skimmed down, savoring the thrum of his pulse. Immediately, the sound of Ezra’s breathing changed and he tilted his head to the side, as if he were willing to let Chris do what he wanted.

Chris trailed one hand up Ezra’s arm, up over his shoulder where it broke from the water. Ezra shivered as his wet hand slid across skin that had already nearly dried in the heat of the day, along his jaw. Chris kissed him slowly, working his tongue into Ezra’s mouth; his hand drifted down, under the water again, skating along the muscled lines of Ezra’s chest and sides, softened calluses flicking over his nipples. Ezra moaned into Chris’s mouth, and Chris suddenly felt Ezra’s hands damp and dripping against his shoulders, down his back, pulling him even closer.

His blood roared in his ears when at last he tore himself away from Ezra’s mouth, but he just couldn’t leave him be; he traced the outline of an ear with his tongue, followed by a nip to the lobe, then down his throat again, nibbling, listening to the gasps and soft sounds of pleasure that Ezra wouldn’t hold back. His hands smoothed down wet flanks sleek and firm, down to the narrow hips, thumbs resting in the hollows, making circles on his flesh.

Ezra dipped his head, nudging his chin against Chris’s jaw. Chris slanted a look at him from the corner of his eye, but didn’t stop the biting kisses he dropped on Ezra’s shoulder and neck. He grinned when Ezra huffed, and nipped harder, just to feel him shudder against him.

“Chris…” Ezra’s call of his name was half a groan of pleasure, half a demand for more.

That’s Ezra, he thought, unable to keep from smirking. He nibbled his way back to Ezra’s lips, and Ezra took control of the kiss, his tongue diving into Chris’s mouth to tease and explore. He pressed closer, felt Ezra’s sex hard against his own, and groaned. Ezra smiled, breaking their kiss, and for one quiet moment, they just stood, breathing heavily.

Then Chris felt Ezra’s hand creeping over his belly, closing around his cock, and he arched up into that touch with a gasp. His hands tightened on Ezra’s hips, fingers digging in almost bruisingly hard before relaxing. “Ezra…”

Ezra thrust against him in response, his tongue swirling around one of Chris’s nipples before he pulled away. “Out of the water,” he ordered, his voice roughening as he lost his usual smooth control. “Up here…” He boosted himself out of the water, muscles cording in his arms as he did, until he sat on the ledge where their gear waited.

The sun was warm on Chris’s back as he followed Ezra out of the pool. Water cascaded off his legs as he swung himself eagerly onto the rock. Ezra’s hands pulled him down for another kiss, searing and fierce, and Chris settled himself astride one of Ezra’s legs, one of his between Ezra’s own. He moved, his cock pressed hard against Ezra’s hip, was met by Ezra grinding up against him.

“Yes...” One of them hissed the word, and then Chris found his tongue tangling with Ezra’s. Pulling away, panting, he braced on one arm over Ezra; his other hand fought between them to wrap around Ezra’s manhood, clasping firmly. The noise Ezra made sent heat shivering down his spine, then those long, knowing fingers were closing around him in return, teasing, pumping.

“Oh, God,” he breathed. Feels too damn good, he thought distantly. Their hands filled the space between them, bumping as they moved, and he wanted to kiss Ezra again, but he just couldn’t seem to get enough air…

He ran over the head of Ezra’s cock with his thumb, squeezed on his stroke down. Ezra bucked up hard, shuddering and cursing through his climax.

Ezra’s grip on him tightened a little, but that hand never stopped moving, never stopped that feeling that was too good to last. It was only another moment before Chris’s pleasure washed over him, and he spilt over Ezra’s hand and stomach with a deep groan.

He rolled to the side before his arm gave out, and Ezra followed him, rolling up onto one shoulder, his hand, sticky with their seed, coming to rest on Chris’s hip. For a long moment, they just lay there entwined, Chris snaking his arm around Ezra’s shoulders to draw him closer.

“Thank you for a pleasant and… relaxing swim.” Ezra’s voice was a murmur of sound that Chris felt against his throat as much as heard. “I don’t recall swimming being such a strenuous activity, though.”

Chris merely hummed in agreement, eyes closed.

“Do you suppose we might swim again before we depart this lovely spot?”

Chris felt Ezra’s fingers dance up his side, not quite tickling, and opened one eye. “Prob’ly,” he muttered, and watched that smug grin grow even wider. He smiled in response, and let his hand slide down Ezra’s broad back. “Got a couple more days before the others expect us back,” he finished, and closed his eyes again to enjoy the quiet, broken only by the movements of the horses and the lap of the water behind them.

“I believe we can get in quite a lot of swimming before then,” Ezra said, his accent heavy on the words, making them sound slow and sleepy.

Between the warmth of the sun and the warm weight in his arms, Chris drifted. It was some time before he realized Ezra had not pulled away to reclaim his own space. “Thought you might want to wash.”

“Wash? Now?” Ezra managed to instill the drowsy words with the same kind of horror that he usually had for any kind of physical labor. “I’m more likely to drown, that swim exhausted me so.”

Chris chuckled and drew him closer. “We can… swim again later.”

“And as often as possible. After all, cleanliness is next to godliness…”