Work Text:
Dennis sat in the pen, his hand on the pommel of his saddle. He reached down and patted Riot’s neck. This horse had been good to him since arriving in Pennsylvania. Once the stable owner saw what he was capable of, what he was teaching students, Riot became his. He righted his hat and checked his feet in the stirrups. The roar of the crowd made his blood sing.
This had been his life in Nebraska. He remembered touring and hitting rodeos all over the Midwest. Whitaker had become a name on the circuit. It surprised first-time watchers when he flew out of the box. He was the smallest steer-wrestler people saw. Severely underestimated by his competition, Dennis’s technique was infallible. At least, it had been. He sustained his first major injury two years into his rise. By the time he had rehabbed, his entire world had changed. Rodeo didn’t matter as much to him.
His father had his first heart attack. He finally had a chance to see something for his life other than muck and horses. He used all his cash winnings for university. He had found something he loved more than he loved the rodeo. Medicine. But it didn’t stop him from getting in the saddle every chance he got.
“And returning to the circuit, Dennis Whitaker. The golden boy of the Midwest has come out of retirement.”
Dennis waved his hat and then lasered in to what was about to happen. It would only be seconds, but the adrenaline would flow through his body as soon as he got the signal to go. His eyes flicked to the steer he’d be facing. He was big. He had to focus on the basics. Lean in his saddle, wrap his right arm around the steer’s horn, then with his left, push up on the horn and let his body do the work as he yanked.
It’d be over in seconds. He had to make every movement count.
“Coming out!”
Dennis kicked his heels back, and he and Riot flew.
He leaned in the saddle, his right arm reaching out over the steer’s head. Without hesitating, he let his thighs loosen. Before he could blink, he was off his horse at full speed, and his arm wrapped around the steer’s horns. The heels of his boots kicked up clumps of mud, and it caked on his skin and clothes. He pulled with all his weight. Dennis wrestled it to the ground. He was winded, and he couldn’t help but laugh. No matter how many times he had done this, it still surprised him that he still had it in him.
He stood up and brushed the seat of his pants off. He smiled at his time. He fucking killed it. He needed to check in with Hayden, his Hazer. He winced as he walked. He tweaked something in his back. Not surprising. He’d work through it and hopefully on Monday he’d be okay.
He was in the middle of brushing Riot when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his middle. He smiled. “How’d I do?”
“Fucking fantastic.”
Dennis felt lips on the nape of his neck. Stubble scratched lightly against his skin. Fingers slipped between the buttons of his shirt to scratch at his undershirt. Dennis couldn’t help the way he arched back, his head rested on his shoulder.
“Love it when you get all dirty like this. Getting to see your eyes turn feral. You going after that steer and then jumping off that horse. It’s like my heart beats out of my chest while I wait for you to get up out of the mud.”
“Now you know how I feel when I see you come home all sweaty in those swat fatigues.” Dennis turned in Jack’s arms. He pulled his hat off and held it at his side when he leaned in for a kiss. Jack stopped him. He grabbed Dennis’s hat and placed it on top of his head.
“You gonna come home with me, cowboy?” Jack teased.
“Like you even had to ask,” Dennis wrapped a hand around the back of Jack’s neck and tugged him in for a filthy kiss. It was all heat, teeth, and tongues. Jack gripped Dennis’s waist in one hand, and the other rested on Dennis’s cheek. He took complete control of the kiss. Dennis whimpered into Jack’s lips.
Jack slowed the kiss. Dennis loved this side of Jack. It was caring, gentle, and Dennis savored the moment. It sent heat down his spine. It was the precursor to what they’d be doing later tonight.
“Alright, Dennis,” Hayden said as he rounded the corner. Once he spotted Dennis and Jack, he scrunched up his nose. “Christ, you two are worse than Johnson and his new wife. Tongues to yourselves for five minutes.”
Both Dennis and Jack laughed loudly. Jack pressed a smacking kiss to Dennis’s lips.
“I gotta head back to the medical tent. My relief comes in an hour,” Jack hugged Dennis tightly and pressed his lips to Dennis’s ear, “You rocked that shit today, baby.”
Dennis knew he was blushing by the way Jack grinned at him. He watched Jack adjust Dennis’s hat and walk away. He tilted his head as his eyes trailed from boots to ass. Jack had a swagger that made Dennis think how lucky he was to be going home with him.
Dennis had barely clocked in before he heard Trinity screeching, “Dennis Huckleberry Whitaker!”
Dennis looked up with wide eyes. The first person he saw was Robby. The man wasn’t any help. He held his hands up and smirked, “Whatever you did, that’s your bed to lie in, Whitaker.”
“You want to know what this idiot did?” Trinity stomped over and held her phone out for everyone to see.
It was him. Steer Wrestling.
“How could you do something so stupid! You said you were just riding horses.” Trinity smacked him over the back of his head. Robby took the phone, and a group of interested co-workers crowded around him.
“I mean,” Dennis stepped back, “I was riding a horse.”
“For three seconds?” Trinity rolled her eyes. “Was there even a doctor on site?”
“There were multiple,” Dennis nodded.
“And this little hitch in your step, I know, isn’t from having a good time overnight,” Trinity spat out. “So how hurt are you?”
At that question, everyone turned towards Dennis. It was partially because he had one hell of a night with Jack. He wasn’t going to say that out loud, though. Robby pulled his glasses off and tucked them in his shirt pocket.
“Are you hurt?” He asked.
Dennis could never lie to Robby, and that was coming to bite him in the ass. “I pulled a muscle in my back. It probably happened when I slid off my horse.”
“You didn’t slide,” Dr. Robby said as he handed Trinity her phone back, “You jumped from your horse.”
“Okay,” Dennis drew the word out, “When I jumped from the horse.”
“Is the article right?” Trinity asked.
“I don’t know because I didn’t read it,” Dennis swiped a hand over his eyes.
“You were trampled when you were younger,” Trinity answered.
“Okay,” Dennis rocked back on his heels, “I didn’t get trampled. It was one hoof to the chest.”
“Christ,” Trinity groaned. “It ended your career, and you went back!”
“You went and looked me up,” Dennis smirked.
“Of course I fucking did. I need to know what kind of idiot my roommate is and what kind of in-case-of-emergency phone calls I get for you.” Trinity ran her hands through her hair. “You know this is just as bad as Robby riding his death machine.”
“Enough!” Robby broke into their conversation. “We have work to do.”
Robby waited until Dennis was by himself before he leaned over. “Jack’s not going to like this.”
Dennis snorted, “Who do you think the doctor on site was?”
“Of course he was,” Robby shook his head. “Adrenaline junkies, both of you.”
Dennis shrugged, “You want to know what I won?”
“Nope,” Robby shook his head. “I already made the mistake of following Jack on Instagram. I see way too much of you on there. I don’t even want to think about what happened before you took that half-naked picture of Jack in that hat.”
Dennis threw his head back and laughed. Yeah, it’d probably be good to let Dr. Robby live in delusion land.