Ever the Same by BA Tortuga

might give him.
    When Audie slid up next to him, hip pressing against his, he held his breath. Audie grasped his hand, holding on, palm warm and firm against his.
    He explored Audie’s hand, wrist, then brought it up to lick.
    The flavor of salt came through, along with a hint of coffee, Audie’s skin rough with calluses and weather. His lips found scars, tracing them.
    “Dixon.” Audie sounded breathless, and a little like he’d been gargling rocks, his voice rough.
    “Uh-huh?” He brushed his lips over Audie’s palm.
    “That feels amazing.” Audie turned toward him a little, facing him, the rustle of those starched jeans loud.
    It did. It felt damned amazing, and he nuzzled the palm again before testing the pulse at Audie’s wrist.
    Audie touched his cheek with the other hand, tracing a line from his eye down to the corner of his mouth.
    He opened up, turned his head, and wrapped his lips around Audie’s finger.
    “Oh.” The moan came, long and drawn out, Audie making a little music for him.
    Someone liked that. Excellent. He gathered his confidence and pulled, sucking in a steady rhythm.
    Audie stroked his face, his hair, slow and easy. The heavy scars from the head wounds were traced, touched, not avoided. Audie seemed as curious about him as he was about Audie. Okay, maybe not that much. He needed to touch Audie’s face, to use his hands to see what his eyes couldn’t. He’d always thought that was bullshit in movies, but now he wanted to do it.
    “Can I… can I touch you?”
    “Of course you can.” Audie pulled away with the hand Dixon had been sucking and grabbed Dixon’s fingers in his.
    “No, I want to touch your face. Please.”
    “You got it.” Audie brought both his hands up to lie against his own cheeks, letting Dixon go so he could touch at will.
    He was fascinated. Audie’s face was clean-shaven, nose long, straight. He traced the man’s eyebrows, surprised to find little eyeglasses. Oh God, that had to be adorable. A cowboy in spectacles.
    “Oh man. I…. You look like you’re happy to see me. I’ve never had a man look at me like that.”
    “No?” That was a shame. Audie deserved good moments. “Well, I think you’re hot as hell.”
    “You can tell. Can I kiss you?”
    “I think that would rock.”
    Audie made a happy noise and touched his face again, fingers sliding behind his ear and into his hair to pull him close.
    It was brand-new, to have to wait, to let someone else initiate, because he wasn’t sure where the kiss was coming from.
    Audie’s breath on his lips told him which way to tilt his head, and he took this kiss full on the mouth, the brush of lips together, making him shiver. He moaned, the sound vibrating in his throat.
    “Mmm.” Audie made this long, low noise, pure pleasure. The kiss went deeper, not fierce, just a slow, thorough tasting, and he traced Audie’s teeth, finding one that was the barest bit crooked.
    Audie chuckled, and Dixon pulled back a few inches. “What happened?”
    “Got kicked by a calf.”
    “Ouch. Is there a scar?” He licked again.
    “A little one. I was really young, so it healed good.” Audie touched his shoulder, palm cupping the ball of his joint, fingers rubbing gently.
    Oh damn. That felt so good. So good. The simple act of touch made him want to sit there forever. He’d missed it so much, the closeness of someone else’s body.
    He reached out, finding Audie’s belly. Oh. Oh, hard. The man had a flat stomach, the cotton shirt covering it had snaps, and he felt a heavy, metal belt buckle. Cowboy to the bone, this one. He traced the buckle, the heavy edges shaped like a rope. The center had some words and maybe a horse.
    “Now, if you start playing with a cowboy’s buckle, you’re making inherent promises.”
    “Am I?” He grinned. He was good—at playing and promises.
    “You are. You don’t handle one unless you’re gonna make good.” Audie kissed his smile, tone light, touch easy. No one was pushing.
    He