by Tarlan
Chris and Vin find some shade from the heat of a high noon.

The rolling plain seemed to ripple in the rising heat, the illusion of water drawing the unwary to their deaths but Vin knew this land too well to fall for nature's tricks. His horse plodded on beneath him, rein long and loose in his hand; his slouch hat pulled low to keep the sun out of his eyes. A slight tug of the reins set his horse heading through the wavering landscape towards a small stand of trees, knowing they would offer welcome shade until the main heat of the day had passed, as well as providing precious water, trickling from the tiny spring that gave life to those trees.

Riding just to the side of him, Chris was as silent as ever, barely speaking more than three words since they set out hours earlier but this dry heat had a way of sapping the conversation from most men. He smiled. Not that Larabee was much of a talker anyhow. Vin didn't mind the silence, finding companionship in the steady plod of hooves on baked earth and in Chris's soft breaths that caught upon his hearing like a gentle breeze, audible beneath the harsher panting of the horses.

He eased out of his saddle, dropping carefully to the ground, and led his horse up the final incline before tying the rein around a low-hanging branch, eager to take a siesta and wait out the heat of the day. Chris followed, working silently as they both stripped off saddles and blankets, dropping them to the dusty ground in the shade of the trees to use as back-rests while they waited for the sun to pass its high noon. Before they settled, they collected water from the spring; wetting their bandannas and filling canteens, taking quick but generous gulps and splashing some water over their faces before seeing to their horses' needs.

Afterwards, Chris dropped to the ground beside Vin with a soft grunt of exertion; his long, dark-clad legs stretched out before him as he pulled the hat from his head and ran a hand through sweat-matted hair before dragging the dusty poncho over his head and laying it aside.

"Damn! It's hot today."

Vin grinned over at him as he discarded his heavy buckskin coat, and found himself mesmerized, watching beads of perspiration well at Chris's temple and trickle down the slightly stubbled cheek to hang poised upon the edge of his chin before plunging to the vulnerable throat lying beneath. He licked his lips in rising desire, all too aware of how many days had passed since he'd last had this chance to openly stare at his lover. Chris, the ornery bastard, knew exactly what he was thinking, his lips curling into a smug grin as a hand moved down his clothed chest to pause over the gun belt's buckle. Agile fingers had it loosened in seconds, leather sliding over leather with a soft rasp, the heavy rig dropping away as those clever fingers started on buttons next, opening the tight black pants that barely restrained Chris's growing interest. As the last button popped, Vin rubbed against the hard evidence of his own interest, groaning softly as Chris's cock curved up towards his belly, constrained only by thin, washed-out cotton.

Chris played with himself through the thin cotton, lower lip caught between white teeth, eyes heavy-lidded as the dampness of precome darkened the pale pink cotton. The sight left Vin silently cursing the intense heat, knowing it made skin-on-skin contact too sticky and uncomfortable to even think about despite the temptation lying before him. Instead, he watched as Chris opened the buttons of his union suit and drew out his hard cock, fingers wrapped around the shaft, moving rhythmically yet languidly, slowly bringing himself to the edge as Vin unbuckled his own gun belt. The mare's leg dropped to the dusty ground and Vin quickly released his own hard cock, his hand matching the slow rhythm set by Chris. The first spurt of seed over Chris's fist triggered Vin's release, the heady scent of male sex drifting heavy in the air between them before a single breath of fresh air breezed over them, followed by another, and another as an afternoon zephyr took a little of the heat from the surrounding air.

Chris gave a lopsided grin as his hand dropped away, and if Vin had the energy to move then he might have been tempted to lean across and taste those lips. Instead, they each cleaned up with their still-damp bandannas, before the heat dried them out completely. Vin knew no other living soul moved for many miles around them, giving them the freedom to just relax, so they slumped back against their saddles with pants and underwear still in disarray.

In a couple of hours the heat would become more bearable for the remainder of their ride back to the town they protected but, for now, they had that slight breeze cooling exposed flesh, and the trees shading them from the worst of the sun. They also had quiet companionship and heavy, sated limbs.

It was a good time and place to take that siesta.

The End

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