A little info and NEW Blog Story ****NSFW****

Okay, so here's what I figured. I might not write about ALL of the Xxchange couples or menages, but I will write four or so shorts. Each one will be in three parts, so it should be a week to tell each short. Sound good?

So, with that plan laid out, here's the first part of Rory and Chance's story--

Chance and Circumstance
Copyright 2013
Bailey Bradford

Blog Special: Love in Xxchange: Chance and Circumstance

Part I

Rory ran his fingers through his blond curls as he paced. His boot heels struck the ugly white marbled tile with enough force to jar him. He gave those blond strands a tug before he stuffed his hands in his front pockets. Worry etched the beginnings of fine lines around Rory’s mouth and eyes.

Goddamn, Chance loved the man. He was going to love him even more tomorrow than he did today, and seeing his husband age did funny things to him. Scared him, sometimes something awful, because he had a lot of years on Rory. He wasn’t concerned about Rory leaving him for someone younger—Rory was too good a man to do such a thing. When Rory made a commitment, he meant it. He kept it.

But Chance was older. Two decades, just about. He had to accept the fact that he was likely to die while Rory was still young enough to have a plenty of years left. God knew, if something happened and Rory went before him, Chance wouldn’t last out a month. He wouldn’t want to, and if that made him a sinner or whatever, he didn’t care.

No one but him needed to know that, though. Rory never needed the burden of knowing Chance wouldn’t—couldn’t—live without him.

Selfish, that was probably what it made him.

Rory stopped his pacing and Chance stopped his morbid musings. Rory sighed and stretched. He rubbed at his face and looked at Chance. “I’m scared.”

Chance couldn’t just sit there any longer. He got up walked over to Rory. Screw any onlookers in the waiting room who didn’t like it. Chance put an arm around Rory and pulled him in for a hug.

“It’ll be all right, honey. It will be. Ain’t nothing going to go wrong. Nothing.” Not like last time. This time, Rory’s going to have his dream.

Nineteen months earlier…

The summers were getting hotter, that was all there was to it. Chance didn’t know how anyone could argue that global warming wasn’t real. God knew he wasn’t the brightest guy in the world but even he knew that the temperatures had gotten on par with the fires of Hell.

He lifted his cowboy hat up and used a faded bandana to mop at the sweat on his forehead. His eyes stung; between the sun and the sweat, he was going to look like he’d tied one on but good. His eyes would be redder than they last time he’d gotten puking drunk.

He tied the bandana around his head and put the hat back on. It was a tight fit, but he was determined and fuck it all, it wasn’t his favorite hat anyway.

His horse nickered and shuffled in place. “I know, boy. Too hot to keep you out. I’ll finish up tomorrow using the four wheeler.” They stayed in the shade for a few minutes until Max rode up, his denim shirt soaked with sweat. “Look like you’ve been playing in the stream,” Chance said. “I know you haven’t been working that hard.”

Max snorted and kind of slumped in his saddles as he reined to a stop in the shade. “I ain’t been working hard, just trying to find that lost calf. Rory still looking?”

“Yeah he is.” Chance glanced at Max’s two-way. “Batteries dead?”

Max took the radio off his belt. “I guess. Dang thing ain’t working. I thought Bo said he just put new batteries in it last night. Maybe I didn’t hear right.”

Chance smirked. “Knowing Bo, it wasn’t the radio he was telling you he put new batteries in.”

Max’s already red face went a shade or two brighter. “Jesus.”

Despite the miserable heat, Chance laughed. Even though Max and Bo had been together for years, Max hadn’t gotten any less shy. It was kind of cute.

“Too many hot days already,” Max muttered, and Chance had to wonder why he sounded so far away when the guy was right by him.

Chance closed his eyes for a second. Really, he was just going to blink, but somehow, his lids were too heavy to raise and the world spun, or his head did, something—fear shot through him as he realized he was tipping, falling, and someone was shouting.

Chance had been thrown off of horses plenty of times in his life. This wasn’t anything like being thrown. It was more like the entire world turned over.

“Chance!”

Chance winced as he landed hard. He wasn’t the only one who grunted, but he couldn’t figure it out. There was burning in his legs, cramping, pain, and his head was full of bees, buzzing and confusing the fuck out of him.

The only really coherent thought he had was that Rory was going to be heartbroken if he died—and alone.

****

“It was just potassium—“ Chance began. He should have known he wasn’t going to get any further than that.

“Just?” Rory shouted. “Chance, it wasn’t ‘just’ anything! You could have died!” Rory’s face crumpled and Chance felt like shit. “I can’t lose you, Chance. I can’t.”

Chance started to get up from the bed—Rory hadn’t let him do more than sit up since he’d gotten home from the hospital hours ago. Wasn’t going to let him this time, judging by the way Rory’s expression morphed into one of…Well, of an anger intense enough to make parts of Chance shrivel right on up.

“Don’t you dare get up,” Rory growled.

Maybe Chance wasn’t so shriveled after all, because that? Made his blood race and his dick start to fill.

Rory’s expression darkened. “Don’t even think sex is going to get you out of this.”

“Out of what?” Chance yelled back, confused and scared—that last one was the tough one to deal with. “Christ, Rory! I didn’t know there was anything wrong! It’s not like I haven’t spent forty-four years sweating in the heat!”

Rory stepped up and bent over to get nose to nose with him. That fierce look in his eyes was something to behold. It made Chance’s heart pitter patter a little faster. “You…you…” Rory growled. “Ugh!”

Maybe they had both needed to vent, yell a little.  Chance palmed Rory’s chin, cupping it firmly. They’d yelled enough. He surged up and the kiss was almost too much, almost too rough, but it gave them what they needed, or at least the start of it.

“Rory,” Chance breathed Rory’s name over swollen lips. He licked at the bottom one, drawing a soft sound from Rory. “I’m sorry.” He was, so, so sorry to have scared Rory. And himself. It wasn’t like Chance had a deathwish. And who the fuck thinks about something like potassium? How is anyone in Texas alive?

The doctor said excessive sweating contributed, that and a lack of potassium in his diet. Chance didn’t know jack about that stuff, but he’d bet Rory was fixing to implement the diet from hell on them both.

Rory didn’t reply. Instead he went after Chance’s mouth like it was the last kiss they’d ever have. It started out rough, with a split lip and too much biting, but neither of them seemed to be able to stop.

Slowly, it turned into the sweet, tender kiss that had Rory melting against him. Chance wrapped his arms around his lover and cradled the back of his head. Rory’s hair was soft and fragrant, the sandalwood and citrus scent of it ending a familiar spike of lust through Chance.

Chance stretched out on the bed, delighting in the feel of Rory doing the same. What he’d do without the man in his arms, Chance couldn’t imagine. Didn’t want to.

And Rory felt the same about him. Damn. Chance knew that, he did, and if he’d been the one getting a frantic call on the radio from Max, he’d have been angry and terrified and he wouldn’t have handled it well at all.

Chance ran his other hand down Rory’s broad back. He felt him trembling then, followed by the harsher shaking when the first sob really hit. Chance’s eyes burned as he held onto Rory and tried to soothe him.

He told Rory he was sorry, again, but it wasn’t an apology that Rory needed. Chance knew that, but he couldn’t just shut up because he was sorry Rory was hurting and scared. He also knew, though he tried not to dwell on it for long, that this was the first brush with his mortality that Rory had been a witness to, and it had to be sinking in to Rory. Chance would grow old, if he was lucky, and die long before Rory would.

So Chance held Rory, and loved him, and started to think.

****

Wrung out, eyes swollen and his nose raw from blowing it, Rory knew he couldn’t be an attractive sight. Add in bed-head and morning breath, and yeah, that hard-on was poking at his ass just ‘cause Chance hadn’t seen the front. He had a vision of rolling over and roaring, flames of bad breath shooting out, his eyes red and glowing, his nose spiked with a horn—Aw, heck, I need more sleep. My brain’s turned to toast.

But Chance had seen him looking pretty damned rough more than once over the years, and morning breath was something they’d ignored more often than not if they wanted to. And that thick cock sure felt good nudging at his crack.

Rory had no memory of getting naked, but since that’s how he and Chance always slept, he supposed it was so natural to him he’d just done it in his sleep. Chance, too, probably. There wasn’t a stitch of clothing between them.

He blinked open his burning eyes just as Chance rubbed his thumb over one of Rory’s nipples. Rory moaned and arched his back, getting that dick to press into his crease.

“Yeah, baby,” Chance said in a sleep-roughened voice. “Let me in.”

Rory hitched up his top leg, hooking it with one arm to open himself up better. He should probably have insisted Chance rest today, but denying either of them this pleasure was unthinkable.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” Chance murmured in his ear, then he was pushing into Rory, spreading his ass open with a steady thrust. Chance’s cock was slick, hot, lubed. The man had been prepared.

Rory’s eye widened as he became fully awake. He grabbed at his pillow with his other hand, moaning, his own dick hard and aching. Need swelled and pulsed in him as a blissful sensation spread out from his ass.

Chance grunted when he bottomed out, then he shoved forward and Rory moaned, closing his eyes again. Chance licked his jaw, sending goose bumps racing down Rory’s spine. He gripped the pillow harder and begged as much as he could for Chance to start moving.

Chance locked one arm around him and sucked on Rory’s neck. Then he began to move his hips, just withdrawing an inch or two before sinking back in. Every time he thrust, Chance sucked on Rory’s skin. Rory panted and pushed back. He needed more hands because his cock was going to fall off if someone didn’t touch it soon. He whined because the words just wouldn’t form, but Chance knew him.

One big, callused hand gripped him perfectly. Rory couldn’t hold still. He moved back and forth, fucking himself on Chance’s cock, fucking Chance’s hand. Chance made one of the deep, rumbling noises Rory loved hearing. It meant he’d pushed Chance past his restraint. That always, always meant things were about to get more intense.

Chance left off leaving hickeys on him and withdrew his shaft from Rory’s ass. Rory didn’t protest, he knew it was about to get hotter. He was pulled roughly onto his back then Chance was shoving his legs apart. Rory did him two better and pulled his legs up, knees to chest, offering Chance everything.

Chance grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them apart. The first hot lick of tongue over his hole drew a yelp right out of Rory. He clenched his hands tighter around the back of his legs, hoping he was leaving marks. Chance went after his ass like a starving man, licking and tongue-fucking him with more passion than they’d shared in a while. Their lovin’ was never boring, but sometimes they were tired and things were routine, and there was nothing wrong with that. Being secure with someone was amazing.

But passion was amazing too, and Chance was pouring it on him, rimming him until Rory’s head was spinning because he was panting spastically. Chance thrust his tongue into Rory again then lick over his taint and mouthed his balls.

Rory tried to beg, but the garbled sound he made was unintelligible. He rocked his butt up. Chance gave his balls a toothy tug that was painful and damned near orgasmic at the same time.

Then Chance was biting his way up Rory’s body, nibbles that wouldn’t mark him for more than minutes, but they felt so good. Rory almost cried with relief when Chance buried his dick in Rory’s ass with one hard thrust. Rory let go of his legs, wrapping them around Chance’s hips. He drove his heels against Chance’s butt, spurring him on.

Rory’s shout was muffled by the press of Chance’s shoulder. He took that for the offer it was. Chance would have his share of marks, too, before they were done. Holding onto Chance tightly, he drove his hips up to meet every deep thrust.

And still, it wasn’t enough for either of them. As if having agreed on it, Chance once again withdrew. Rory peeked out of narrowly slitted eyes, seeing the half dozen purple marks he’d left on Chance’s neck and shoulder—then he was flipping over onto his knees. He slapped one hand against the headboard and gripped his prick with the other. Chance mounted him and began pounding his ass.

Chance wrapped his arms around Rory, batting away the hand working his shaft. Rory put his other hand to the headboard then, too. It always felt better when Chance was beating him off than when he did it himself.

Chance nipped at his shoulder, grunting and rasping as he fucked Rory. Every drive in brought the fat cap of Chance’s cock into contact with Rory’s gland. It was marvelous, spectacular, and Rory never wanted it to end.

Rory reached behind himself with one hand, grabbing Chance by the back of the neck. He twisted his own head around and they managed a sloppy kiss. Chance sped up the strokes to Rory’s dick, sped up the thrusts of his hips. Rory’s balls ached in the split second before he came. He clenched his ass down hard on Chance’s shaft, wanting his lover right there with him in ecstasy.

Chance’s hitched breath and his frantic thrusts came to a halt as he shivered and came, pumping his cum into Rory. Rory felt every jet of spunk branding him as Chance’s. It wiped away the fear he’d had hounding him constantly, at least at that moment.

As they slid down to lie together on the bed, Rory’s ass ached and he felt almost content. The fear was trying to return, but he told himself—no more wasting time on what might happen in the future. He wouldn’t spend today worrying about tomorrow.

“Come ‘ere,” Chance grumbled, tugging on Rory’s arm. 

Rory scooted closer until he was plastered against Chance. He got his head right where he liked it on Chance’s shoulder, and he nuzzled Chance’s neck. “Love you. Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I won’t,” Chance murmured, “And you know I love you too, more’n anything.”

It almost felt like there was something more Chance wanted to say, but Rory didn’t want to ask. All he wanted then was to be right there, in the moment, with
Chance. Everything else could wait.