Page 5 of Hearing Hank

“Hey Leroy,” he says with a smile.

“Hi, I was just going to wander around and make lists of things we need for the wedding. Is that all right? I’ll give the goats their space.” I say, grinning at him.

“Of course, we all really appreciate it that you came up to help. Mark and I don’t know the first thing about planning weddings. I’m glad Paul has a friend who does.” Wyatt nods.

“I’m happy to be here, and now that I don’t have a job, I have all the time in the world,” I say. I can hear the tone in my voice, and obviously, Wyatt can too.

“Paul said you had some office job. Is that not the case anymore?” Wyatt asks.

I would have blown it off, but he sounds like he actually cares about the answer, so I end up giving him a quick run-down of how my manager didn’t like my presentation and forced me to choose Paul over my job.

“Well, that’s a shitty way to treat your employees,” Wyatt says emphatically. “Who did you work for again?”

“It’s just a place called Image Professionals. No one’s ever heard of it,” I tell him breezily, but from the way his eyes sharpen, and his head turns toward me, I realize that he has heard of it. Not very many people know that “Imaging Professionals Inc.” is an arm of the U.S. Intelligence dealing with audio and visual data analysis. The people who work there are technically civilians, but everyone has security clearance, and some of the things we dealt with were vital. Still had a douchebag for a manager though.

I can tell is Wyatt choosing his next words carefully. “I used to be in the service with a couple of guys who have an operation in Denver. They might be looking for someone with those skills. Did you deal with admin or data?”

This conversation can’t go very far without me knowing if Wyatt has a clearance level, but I figure it’s safe to tell him I was on the data end of things.

“I’m not interested in working in the gray areas,” I tell Wyatt. “If I go to work for someone using these skills, they’re going to have to be white hats all the way.”

Wyatt grins at that. “These guys are about as good as you can get,” he assures me. “I’ll give them a call and see if they have any need in your area. They pretty much only hire by reference, but a friend of Paul’s is a friend of mine, so I’ll see what they say.”

“Wow,” I say, “I would really appreciate that. I figured when I left, I was going to have to find something totally different, and I was bummed because I do really enjoy the work.”

“I’ll go ahead and give those guys a call,” Wyatt says. “Poke around all you want for wedding stuff and let me know if you need a hand. I’m more than happy to help.”

“I’ll start putting together a list of things we need to either rent or buy. Just writing the list ought to take me a day or so, and then I’ll start tracking things down.” I start to turn away but stop myself. “Wyatt, I need you not to tell Paul what happened at work. I told him that I quit but not why. I don’t want to put a cloud over his wedding.”

“No problem,” Wyatt says as he heads down the steps. “I’ll keep it to myself, and I’ll let you know what my buddies say.”

I stand on the porch for a minute with my head spinning a little. That was one heck of a coincidence. I’ll take all the luck I can get. I keep my fingers crossed mentally as I head for the side yard. There’s a sliding door from the dining room area to a patio on the side where they’re clearing for the wedding. You really couldn’t ask for a better setup for catering and indoor access. I start making a note on my phone for the number of tables I think will easily fit in the yard, and another to go over the guest list with Paul. We’ll need to figure out food too. There’s going to be an awful lot to do, but I’m psyched to get started.

By the time I’m done making lists for the big day, it’s late afternoon. I wander back out on the front porch hoping to catch a glimpse of Hank, and this time I’m not disappointed. He’s down in a fenced-off area by the barn leading a horse in circles around him. His hat is gone, and the sun is glinting off the blond in his hair. The t-shirt and jeans he’s wearing hug him in all the right places. I swear the man makes my mouth water. Before I even really think about it I’m checking both ways for goats and heading down to the fence so I can ogle him close up. I can pretend it’s the horse I’m watching, right?

I can tell exactly when he spots me because as I’m halfway across the yard his posture goes stiff, and the horse starts shaking his head nervously. I watch Hank make an obvious effort to relax, and the horse relaxes with him. It’s breathtaking to see how intertwined their energy is. I’ve never ridden a horse, but I’m suddenly thinking that it might be a very different experience than I’ve always thought. Less like a vehicle and more like an extension of the self.

I lean against the fence and let my eyes drink their fill. Both man and horse are beautiful, strong, and a little wary. Hank is keeping his attention firmly fixed on the horse, but I can tell he’s aware of me. There is a tingling current running between us that I’m sure isn’t one-sided. He works with the horse for another ten minutes or so while I lean against the fence, watching the incredible view and enjoying the feeling of the sun on my back.

Eventually, Hank leads the horse back into the barn and I resign myself to not having an excuse to be a creeper anymore. Before I gather the motivation to disengage from the fence and head back up to the house though, Hank comes back out of the barn and heads straight for me. The look on his face makes me think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He stops abruptly a couple of feet from me and then puts his arms on the top rail, leaning against his side of the fence. He’s not making eye contact, and I realize that even if he does have something to say, he’s probably not able to do it. I, however, definitely have something I need to say to him.

“I’m really sorry if my flirting bothered you. It’s kind of my primary language, but I can make an effort to tone it down if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Hank shakes his head, still without looking at me, and I assume that means the flirting wasn’t the problem.

I don’t want to play 20 questions about what I did to bother him this morning. I’m not even sure that it was me at all, so instead I change the subject and tell him what I figured out for the wedding and the setup. He nods like he’s interested in all the right places, but at every pause in my monologue, when there’s a chance for him to say something, he gets a little redder in the face, like it’s stressing him out not to answer me. Just about the time I’m running out of things to say about the wedding, he abruptly pushes off the fence and heads out of the other side of the barn and out of sight at a fast walk. Unlike the last time he ran away, I’m pretty sure that this did have something to do with me, but I’m not so sure it was a bad thing. Besides, I really enjoy watching him walk away.

7

Hank

It’sagoodthingall of my chores are done for the day because I don’t think I can focus on anything right now. Seeing Lee walking across the yard toward me spiked my anxiety for sure, but I got a tingle of arousal just from watching him approach. As he watched me, my jeans grew uncomfortably tight, and I would have given anything to just go up and talk to him and see where it would go. I tried, I really did, but it still ended up with me running away red in the face. This time I have the uncomfortable addition of a matching hard-on.

I’m aroused and pissed off at myself, and completely out of patience with my inability to communicate like a normal person. I kick off my boots at the door and strip the rest of my clothes, tossing them behind me in a trail of frustration all the way to the bathroom. I don’t even wait for the water to get warm before stepping into the shower. I’m not surprised that the cool water doesn’t soften my boner one bit.

I don’t convince myself I’m doing anything other than what I came here to do. Grabbing my dick, I give it some rough tugs, but that’s not what my body or my mind actually wants. Almost against my will, my eyes slip closed, and Lee’s beautiful face appears in my mind. That’s all my dick was waiting for. I don’t even have the chance to daydream about what he might look like with his clothes off before I’m painting the shower wall like I’ve just figured out how to use my cock for the first time.

I sigh and rest against the back wall under the spray for a minute before lazily washing the day’s dirt off of me and the cum shot off the shower wall. Stepping out, my self-frustration has eased, but I am still tired of keeping myself from going after what I want. My therapist has given me concrete steps to take to improve things, and I’ve been lax about following them. I’ve been pretty comfortable here on the ranch. I don’t want to talk to people like that asshole Frankie in town anyway, so I haven’t really focused on the exercises she’s recommended. It’s time though. Well past time. I’ve done all the things she told me to do to talk to people I trust. The step I’ve been putting off is the talking to strangers part. I’m supposed to practice in low-stakes social situations with people I don’t know.

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