The Farmer & Dale

He set the cup down and looked at Dale, his grin renewing itself. Dale stood shaking his head, his own smile playing over his face.

"I can't help it, man, you've got the best coffee in the county, hell probably the whole state."

On their second day, Rick had discovered Dale's coffee. Dale had some special blend of beans he bought from a place in Seattle, which he ground himself. The stuff was heavenly. Since that first taste, Rick made it a point to start their work day with a cup of Dale's coffee.

Dale watched Rick as he nursed the treasured cup. His honey blonde hair was tousled, blown about by the breeze before he'd entered the house. Dale was seized with a sudden impulse to cross the room and run his fingers through the soft, silky strands. He felt himself begin to stiffen. Hastily, he took a chair at the table and concentrated on his own cup, silently cursing himself for a fool.

He looked up to find Rick's intense, blue-green tinged, gaze on him. A silent message seemed to flash between them, the air suddenly tense, electric. Rick broke the look, taking another sip from his cup. Dale sat, still and silent, his breath fast and shallow, his heart racing. He felt like the rabbit that cowered in the tall grass, frozen with fear, as the predator passed. In this case there was no fear, there was only the hope that the predator would strike.

"I thought we'd do something different today." Rick announced. "Give those poor, city boy muscles a chance to flex in another direction."

Dale looked up, startled, unsure what Rick meant. He was met with Rick's usual grin. A frisson of disappointment shuddered through him, but he rallied.

"Just exactly what is it you've got planned for us, boss?"

Rick went into his farm boy mode, "Seein' as how you got that there dumpster delivered yesterday, I thought we'd fill er up." He waited for Dale's reaction. Dale snorted and shrugged. "Seriously, I thought we could take care of all the stuff you want to get rid of today. Fill up the dumpster, haul the good stuff to Goodwill like you wanted. Does that sound like a plan?"

"It's a plan, man." Dale quipped. "Let's go to it. That is, if you can tear yourself away from that coffee cup."

"I'll manage." Rick replied sarcastically, taking a last sip.

He stood and they both headed out the door. Rick watched the mesmerizing flex of Dale's ass as he walked out ahead of him. He took a deep breath and silently blew it out. He'd almost blown it. When Dale sat down at the table with him, he'd had such a forlorn look on his face. It was too cute. Rick had had the sudden urge to round the table, pick him up and carry him off somewhere to love that look off his face. To replace it with passion and need. To make Dale beg for release. With that fantasy running in his head, filling his eyes, Dale had looked up, falling straight into the fire. Rick saw his eyes widen, his pupils dilate, the rhythm of his breath increase.

He'd seen that reaction before. At Stud's, when he picked up a guy for a quick fuck in the back. Only this was Dale, Dale who made his heart flutter and his stomach quiver. Dale, whom he wanted to make love to, not fuck and walk away. Dale, who changed everything. Dale, who scared the shit out of him. Dale. The man who represented heaven and could plunge him into hell.

Rick wasn't ready to face these new and unfamiliar emotions, and so he'd backed off. He'd known at that moment that Dale reciprocated his interest, at least in a physical way, but what about the rest? What about love? Rick shook his head. It was too soon, too much, he had to think about it. So lost in thought was he, that he didn't see Dale stop, and plowed right into him.

Dale stumbled and caught himself, turning, "Damn, buddy, anybody home?"

Rick had to laugh at the half annoyed expression on Dale's face. "Yeah, city boy, sorry, I was thinking."

"Whoa," Dale quipped, "that had to hurt."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, come on boy, you got too much sass in you. Let's work some of it off."

They decided to load the truck first and drop off the boxes at Goodwill. That accomplished, they headed home and began to fill the dumpster. They cleared the garage and barn of old fencing, paint cans, shingles, rotted lumber and items too numerous to mention. There was even an old refrigerator and a couple of lawn mowers that were long past their prime and irreparable.

At the end of the day, they again stood in the kitchen, slugging down a cold beer.

Dale wiped the sweat from his brow, "I thought this was going to be easier. It wasn't easier." he dead-panned.

"Looking forward to getting back to those trees tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah." Dale agreed sarcastically.

"Hey man, three more days should see the deed done. Tell you what," Rick offered, "the day after we finish, we'll celebrate. Drag that grill out that's in the garage. You fire it up, I'll bring the steaks and we'll have a barbeque. When it gets dark, we'll light up the brush pile and have an old fashioned marshmallow roast. How's that sound?"

Dale smiled, enchanted by Rick's boyish enthusiasm, "It sound good, man, sounds good."

Rick headed out the back door, Dale following behind, "Hope you're a good cook." He turned and winked, "I'm particular about my meat."

Dale raised an eyebrow as a chuckling Rick climbed into his truck. Now just what was that supposed to mean? * * *

Three days later, just as Rick predicted, the final tree came down. The next day was spent making a wood pile for Dale's use, and helping Rick's friend, Craig, load and haul away load after load of the excess. They finished the day early and Rick invited Dale to join him in town at Smiley's, for a few beers.

Dale accepted and spent a semi-pleasant evening being introduced to Rick's friends and acquaintances. He couldn't help but notice Rick's popularity. Several women were particularly insistent about staying close to him. He danced with some of them. Dale sat in their booth, conversing and laughing, all the while hiding his melancholy and jealousy

Their time was over. The job was done and there was no reason for Rick to spend his days with him. All their time together and Rick had not once made a move. Beyond that look they'd exchanged in the kitchen, beyond their usual banter, there had been nothing. Dale was sure he'd seen interest in Rick's eyes. But here, now, in this bar, it was apparent that Rick was into women. Dale felt he must have been mistaken, miserably mistaken.

Any enjoyment he had derived from the evening, fell flat. When Rick returned from his latest whirl on the dance floor, Dale tendered his excuses and made his way to the door. He was stopped by a hand on his arm.

Rick halted him, "We're still on for tomorrow, the barbeque, right?"

Dale gazed at him, Rick seemed almost anxious for his answer. He smiled, "Yeah, we're still on."

"Good." Rick replied with satisfaction and surprised Dale by accompanying him out the door.

"Uh Rick?" he quipped, "You don't have to walk me to my car, man."

"Smart ass, I'm heading home. I'm going to bed so I can dream about a big, juicy piece of meat."

Once again Dale gave Rick a startled look. He shivered at the fire he saw blazing in his eyes.

Rick's eyes gentled, he reached out running two fingers slowly over the curve of Dale's cheek, while his thumb rubbed lightly across Dale's bottom lip, "Don't worry about it, babe. We'll sort it out tomorrow."

Without another word, he crossed the lot to his truck, jumped in and took off. Dale watched him leave, his head whirling, his cheek and lip tingling. Babe? Rick called me babe, he thought, oh God, I think I'm in trouble. He had no way of knowing that his sentiments had been echoed, several days earlier, by the man who'd invaded his life, his dreams, his fantasies, and his heart.

Dale climbed into his car and drove slowly home. His emotions were in turmoil. Anticipation, trepidation, excitement, fear, all warred inside his confused psyche. He wanted Rick, was sure he was falling in love with him, but he was frightened. Did Rick want anything beyond a fuck? A night? Would they begin a relationship, only to have it end? Would this be Tony all over again?

He bit his lip until the pain made him wince, admonishing himself to stop. What ever Rick wanted, he knew he wasn't going to pass the opportunity by. He was a grown man, with 30 years of living under his belt. It was time he got on with his life. He just hoped he'd be able to survive the consequences.