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“Carla,” Kaoru says, stepping out of the taxi and into the blazing Wyoming sun, “are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” Kaoru’s watch informs him in a smug tone. “The S ranch is considered a relaxing retreat location for getting in touch with nature and refilling the creative well.”
Kaoru has never regretted Carla’s creation more than he does right now. He never should’ve mentioned a desire to get away for a while to develop fresh ideas for his exhibitions. Although, he’d been imagining an isolated hot spring resort or perhaps a villa in the south of France.
He never could’ve predicted she’d book him something like this—a one-week stay on an authentic ranch in America.
“Hey there,” a man speaks from behind Kaoru.
It’s been years—the language and accent both unfamiliar—but Kaoru doesn’t need to turn around to know exactly who it is. He does anyway, needing to see for himself. “Kojiro-san…how…what are you doing here?”
Kojiro looks equally as surprised to see him. He’s grown in their time apart, his shoulders broader and his shirt straining over bulging muscles. “I could say the same to you.”
“This is a retreat, isn’t it?” Kaoru can’t resist the urge to retort. Kojiro always did bring out the worst in him. He supposes some things never change.
“It is.” Kojiro’s shoulders relax and he looks marginally less like a deer in headlights. “I’m only surprised. This doesn’t feel like the kind of place you’d choose.”
There’s no point in pretending. “My assistant booked it.”
“Well.” Kojiro’s muscles flex unreasonably as he leans over to pick up Kaoru’s luggage. “Welcome to the ranch.”
Kaoru is comforted by the lavish interior as he follows Kojiro into the ranch house. There’s a rustic feel to the wood paneling, tables with raw edges, and handmade rocking chairs, but the space is clearly modern with all associated amenities. Kaoru is particularly grateful for the air conditioning to chase away the late summer heat.
“I’ll leave you to get settled,” Kojiro says, dropping Kaoru’s luggage off inside the Sagebrush Room and then he disappears before Kaoru has a chance to think about whether there’s anything left he needs to say.
His room for the week turns out to be small but still perfect. It’s no hot springs resort, but he has a private bathroom with a tub large enough for a soak and the walls are painted with watercolor wildflowers as delicate as any of his caligraphy.
Kaoru glares down at his watch. “How did you even find this place?”
“It is a highly reviewed location fitting your parameters of a high level of relaxation with limited traffic.”
“And is that all?” Kaoru looks out the window in time to see some variety of small brown animal scamper by.
“Several local artists have credited this location with sparking ideas for their most popular works—”
“Carla,” Kaoru interrupts, jet lag running his patience thin, “did you know he would be here?”
“Nanjo Kojiro is listed on the website as the chef apprenticing here for the summer.” Carla’s tone has no emotion, but Kaoru isn’t sure if he’s imagining the way her volume has quieted through the admission.
He doesn’t want to ask, but he does it anyway. “Why?”
“You miss him.”
“That isn’t relevant to why I wanted this vacation.” Kaoru slips out of his watch and leaves it on the end table, heading back out of his room. He needs a walk to clear his head.
***
The sprawling, dusty ranch is far from Kaoru’s scene. Beyond the house, he can see a small barn in the distance that, judging by the creatures roaming the attached paddocks, is for the horses. Other than that, the only things in sight are a scattered handful of sheds and a whole lot of grass waving in the wind.
It’s all shades of brown with scant touches of pale green and Kaoru can’t imagine how it’s supposed to do anything for his exhibitions.
A pounding rhythm of hooves yanks Kaoru’s attention to the field behind him and away from whether it’s too late to cancel his reservation and go home. He spins around to see Kojiro cantering up on a golden horse with a white mane and tail.
It’s so cinematic it feels sickening.
Kojiro is wearing jeans and a flannel, all of it stretched taut against his muscles. There’s sweat dripping down his face and dirt streaking his forearms and it can’t have been that long since they parted in the farmhouse.
It’s disgusting and the sight definitely doesn’t do funny things to Kaoru’s insides.
“What are you doing?” Kaoru asks as Kojiro halts the horse only a few paces away, kicking up a plume of dust.
“When I have free time between meals, I’m allowed to ride out,” Kojiro says like that’s any kind of answer. The only thing Kaoru’s ever seen him ride is the train. “Want to come with me?”
“Come with you…riding? On a horse?”
Kaoru’s voice must not have the level of venom in it he’d planned because Kojiro is still looking thoughtful and inviting. “Yes. If you go change, I can tack up another horse for you.”
Kaoru wants to scoff and say no, but he doesn’t know how he’ll respond if Kojiro asks why. He can’t admit that the last thing he wants is to hop on the back of a wild animal with a mind of its own, not when Kojiro is clearly making a habit of it.
“Fine,” Kaoru says and returns to the farmhouse to change.
By the time Kaoru returns in the closest thing he brought to riding attire, Kojiro is standing in the driveway holding his golden horse alongside a dark brown horse. It all feels like a mistake when Kaoru’s mount flares her nostrils and snorts in his direction.
“I think it hates me,” Kaoru announces, backing away a step.
“She doesn’t hate you.” Kojiro offers out the reins like Kaoru isn’t definitely about to be killed out here. “Her name’s Cherry and she’s the sweetest thing on the ranch. She’ll take good care of you.”
“Why do I feel like she’s actually a demon and you picked her for the irony?”
Kojiro blinks at him with complete innocence. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Kaoru doesn’t point out that Kojiro has lied to him at least once—when he left for Italy and promised it wouldn’t change their friendship. If that were true, Kaoru would’ve known to avoid this place. “Let’s go.”
Kojiro helps him into the saddle and Kaoru feels nothing at the feel of Kojiro’s hands on his thigh, his hip, guiding him into place on the saddle. From there, Kojiro swings up effortlessly and they’re away.
Cherry’s striding walk feels like the swaying of a ship and it takes some getting used to. Kaoru thinks he’d prefer the steadiness of his own two feet, but he has no idea how far Kojiro’s planning to take him and he’d rather not find out while keeping up with Kojiro’s mount’s pace.
The landscape doesn’t look much different away from the farmhouse and at a new height. Brown-green grass waves in the breeze and stretches out for what seems like forever.
“We’re not anywhere near Italy. How’d you get here?” Kaoru asks, needing the distraction from the horse between his legs as she reaches her neck down and snatches a mouthful of grass without permission.
“It’s a work study internship.” Kojiro’s holding the reins in one relaxed hand and it shouldn’t be attractive but somehow it’s all Kaoru can look at. “The owner is a friend of one of my professors and they needed someone to assist.”
“And the horses?”
“There are only so many push-ups a man can do before it gets boring.” Kojiro winks at him and Kaoru decidedly does not look away. “One of the tour guides invited me out for an afternoon ride and I was hooked by Cheyenne here.”
“Is that so? It wasn’t the tour guide that had you hooked?” Kaoru gives him a sharp look.
Kojiro holds Kaoru’s gaze. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
“I didn’t ask,” Kaoru shoots, heat rising on his cheeks. He can only assume it’s the warmth in the air.
“That’s how I got the job here. Now it’s your turn. How’d you end up booking this ranch and not some fancy resort in the Bahamas?”
“I told you my assistant booked it.”
Kojiro raises an eyebrow as he takes the right fork on a path that’s little more than the grass beaten down by hooves and four-wheelers. “Did you fire them the moment you arrived?”
“No.” Carla feels like too much to explain right now so Kaoru pushes past that whole incident. “I mentioned to them I wanted to get away and they thought this would be a good idea.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” Kojiro looks across at Kaoru with such intensity in his eyes it makes him wish both horses would disappear. “I’ve missed you, Kaoru.”
Kaoru’s snort echoes Cherry’s and he looks away. “You knew where to find me. I didn’t leave the country.”
“You never called.”
“Neither did you.”
Kojiro’s sigh says more than the words they haven’t shared over the past few years. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”
Kaoru sits up so fast Cherry slams on the brakes. Of course he’d wanted to speak to his best friend, but with the miles and time difference and texts drafted and deleted—
“Shit,” Kojiro whispers and he isn’t looking at Kaoru or ahead at the trail. He’s twisted in the saddle, watching a trail of black smoke reaching for the sky. “There’s something going on back at the ranch. We need to go.”
Kojiro wheels his horse around and while Kaoru is fairly certain they aren’t galloping back to the ranch, the pace is still too fast to think about anything but clinging to the saddle and hoping he doesn’t fall in the dirt.
That isn’t exactly the inspirational experience he has in mind.
Kojiro leaps from the saddle while his mount is still moving, shouting towards the nearest ranch hand. “What’s going on?”
Kaoru is too busy trying to get Cherry to stop to hear the response. He slides out of the saddle and nearly thanks every deity in existence for his feet back on solid ground.
“Sorry,” Kojiro says, turning to Kaoru as a ranch hand leads their horses away. “I have to help take care of this. You’ll be okay?”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Of course not.” Kojiro examines Kaoru’s face, looking like he wants to say something else, but he turns away and leaves Kaoru there alone in the dusty driveway.
***
Kaoru retreats to his room and for all its lavish amenities, he’s left with far too much to think about and too little to do.
He wants to go back in time, demand a few more minutes so he can hear Kojiro’s justification for why Kaoru wouldn’t want him to reach out.
He opens a sketchbook, doodling mindlessly until he looks down to find the kanji comprising Kojiro’s family name. Kaoru tears the page out and balls it up.
It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t. It’s only his childhood crush come back to haunt him and, once he leaves this place, everything will go back to normal. There isn’t any other option.
***
Dinner that night is an eclectic mix of ranch employees and guests. There’s only one other person who hasn’t seemed to have bought whole-heartedly into the ranch aesthetic, but Kaoru’s quick to realize he doesn’t have anything in common with any of the others.
Kojiro isn’t there, presumably because he’s busy cooking the meal, but he does appear in chef whites in time for dessert. The whole meal was more than worth the trip, not that Kaoru would ever admit as much out loud.
Kojiro sits across the table from him, attention honed on Kaoru even as he accepts compliments from the rest of the table. Kaoru doesn’t miss the way Kojiro’s gaze lingers on his over a sip of wine.
Kaoru is deliberate when he traces the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. The tease feels more dangerous than the childish poking they got up to in school. Before Kojiro moved away, didn’t call, and had the audacity to grow into a man with more muscles than sense.
After dinner, the whole table is enthusiastically invited to a wine tasting put on by a neighboring vineyard, but Kaoru gracefully declines, claiming jet lag. He is tired, but not as much as he would expect. He simply doesn’t have the energy to put on a performance among these strangers.
It’s no surprise when, twenty minutes after he settles into his room, there’s a knock on the door.
Kojiro’s changed out of his uniform and back into a more casual T-shirt and jeans. If it weren’t for all the muscles, Kaoru might swear they’re teenagers again.
“I think we should talk,” Kojiro says.
Nothing good could ever come from a conversation that starts like that. “You’ve said enough. Any more and you might ruin it.”
“You’re still insufferable,” Kojiro mutters and then he’s stepping into the room uninvited and wrapping a hand around the nape of Kaoru’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair where it hangs from its loose bun.
Kaoru’s head flutters with a hundred barbs he could throw back, but they all pale in comparison to what he wants to say—nothing at all. Even though Kojiro is the one holding on to him, Kaoru pushes up onto his toes and crosses the distance into a kiss.
Kojiro’s lips are trembling, an almost pathetic counterpoint to the demanding clutch of his hands. A moan rumbles low in his throat as Kaoru’s lips part at the first touch of Kojiro’s tongue.
Years. They could’ve been doing this for years. Anger burns in Kaoru’s chest and the bite he places on Kojiro’s bottom lip is more punishing than he meant it to be.
“Can I…” Kojiro’s hands travel to the small of Kaoru’s back, pulling their bodies flush.
Kaoru bites hard on the side of Kojiro’s neck, not even trying to hide the press of his hard cock against Kojiro’s hips. “You better finish what you started.”
It turns out Kojiro’s muscles do have some uses, as he wraps his arms around Kaoru and lifts him with ease. Kaoru shoves his face into Kojiro’s shoulder to smother a moan and wraps his legs around his waist, if only to ensure Kojiro doesn’t drop him.
“Relax,” Kojiro says and Kaoru tenses instead. “I’ve got you.”
“You—” Whatever insults Kaoru had planned die on his tongue as Kojiro shucks off his clothes without pretense. He’s armored in thick muscle, skin several shades paler where it’s protected by his clothes, bruises smattering his chest and thighs. “Did you get attacked by a cow?”
Kojiro glances down, seeming to notice the bruises for the first time. “These are all part of the job. No, I didn’t get mugged by a cow or whatever it is you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking you should be doing less talking.” Kaoru yanks on the tie for his silk robe, letting it cascade down around him. He spreads his legs in an invitation obvious enough that even Kojiro shouldn’t be able to miss it.
“You like it when I talk to you.” Kojiro climbs onto the bed like a prowling lion. “You’ve missed it.”
“Shut up.” Kaoru fists a hand in Kojiro’s hair and drags him down into a kiss. He can’t speak if his mouth is occupied. Even though Kojiro has clearly showered, he still smells like horses and tastes like white wine.
The truth, aching in Kaoru’s chest, is he has missed Kojiro. Every day since he watched him walk away at the airport, if he’s being honest with himself. If he could, he’d pin Kojiro to the bed here and they’d never leave.
Kaoru gasps as Kojiro wraps a hand around his cock. Even at this awkward angle, it feels like too much. He might as well come in his pants like a horny teenager, really complete the moment.
“You’re gorgeous,” Kojiro whispers, stroking Kaoru with a hand rough with unfamiliar callouses. “You always have been but—now. I feel like a commoner touching an angel.”
Kaoru yanks at Kojiro’s hair with one hand and finds his cock with the other, taking it into a too-tight grip. It still isn’t enough to get Kojiro to stop talking.
“I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe I’m finally touching you. I’ve dreamed about it, you know, but it’s even better than I imagined.”
Kaoru gasps as Kojiro quickens his pace and he tries to keep up, but Kojiro won’t keep still. His hips are rolling like he’s inside Kaoru—or like he’s imagining what it would be like. There’s no lube and no condoms—not unless Kojiro is hiding something—and Kaoru hates that he didn’t come prepared.
“My cherry blossom,” Kojiro whispers, the pad of his thumb against Kaoru’s bottom lip, “you can let go.”
Kaoru’s self control snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. His body goes taut beneath Kojiro’s as he spills between them.
Kojiro groans as he chases Kaoru over the edge, even though Kaoru is barely even touching him. Their lips brush as they pant for breath, sharing air more than kissing.
Kaoru can’t find it in him to regret any of this.
Kojiro leaves the bed for only long enough to fetch a washcloth from the bathroom to wipe up. Kaoru waits for him to disappear again—surely there are dishes to be done or prep work for tomorrow’s meals—but Kojiro rejoins him on the bed.
“How long are you staying?” Kojiro asks once they’re cuddling in the afterglow. Kaoru doesn’t even protest when Kojiro manhandles him into curling up with his head on Kojiro’s chest.
“I should’ve tried harder if you can still speak,” Kaoru mutters, conveniently ignoring how little he’d tried at all. “I’m booked for a week. I need to prepare for an exhibition on the equinox.”
Kojiro places a kiss in Kaoru’s hair. “An exhibition?”
“I have a career in art.” Kaoru tries not to think about the crumpled page from his sketchbook, covered in Kojiro’s name. “Caligraphy.”
“I’d love to see it. I have three more weeks on this job and then a final semester back in Italy. I’ll be home just after New Year’s.”
Kaoru’s heart flutters. “Home, is it?”
“Yes.” Kojiro lifts Kaoru’s hand to kiss his palm. “What do you think?”
“I told you if you keep talking you’ll ruin it.”
Kojiro doesn’t rise to Kaoru’s abrasive tone. “I’m serious. I don’t want this to be the only time I see you like this.”
“I’m here for six more nights.” Kaoru studies a bruise just above Kojiro’s belly button. It looks oddly like a rabbit.
“Kaoru.”
Kaoru lets out a slow sigh and squirms until he can reach to press a bite to Kojiro’s jaw. “Come home,” he says, lips whispering the movements against Kojiro’s skin, “and then we’ll see.”