Perriadoᥫ᭡.—No Better Time//one shot in full!
the title of this is a song by Dylan Gossett! I’ll link it, and though lots of people claim to hate country, I like this guy.
!southern Jaime¡
!southern Tony¡
Jaime and Tony hadn’t seen each-other in years.
Around 12, actually.
Growing up in the hard south, the deep run of Mississippi, with southern accents, and that stubborn southern charm, their nature was to grow up cowboys.
The two had met in their sophomore years, and were the typical buddies. Hanging out after school, riding horses, and trecking mud into their homes.
But one day, Jaime just up and left with no words. No warnings. No anything.
And though he was upset, his dad told him to man up.
To not worry about the boy.
And that started the twelve whole years.
Twelve years with no words. No sight of the other.
So now, in their late twenties,
the two rarely ever thought of the other.
Jaime had just moved a bit north, not even moving states, but a bit up the river. But as kids with no contact, he let it be.
They weren’t even that close, anyway.
There’s a bar in the snack middle of one of the smallest towns in Mississippi. A beautiful, old, rustic barn bar. Fully equipped with old saloon doors with the prettiest carving details you’ve ever done seen.
And annually, they host one big get together. Trying to get as many people in the one bar as possible.
Jaime had never gone. Even though he lived a ten minute walk from it, he figured it was a waste of time.
Now living on his own, with no girlfriend, no wife, barely any friends other than his bar buddies,
He figured
Why go?
But Tony, on the other hand, went every year.
He people watched,
Drank some beer and some cider,
And left.
Was never much of a partier.
But this year, magically, Jaime decided he was tired of sitting on his butt all day.
He was going to go to that darn get together.
So, he tugged on one of his best pair of blue jeans,
A nice blue and black flannel,
A dark brown cowboy-hat,
And his best, leather, embroidered cowboy boots.
And once he didn’t feel so squirm-ish,
He left.
Making that ten minute walk.
Listening to his boots hit the ground with the soft crunch of the pebbles beneath him.
And soon, he’s walking up to the bar. Pushing the door open, and letting himself in.
The space is dimly lit. It has a slight scent of old wood, and duster, but it isn’t unpleasant.
He adjusts his hat. Pushing the front of it back by its lip. Looking around quietly.
He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks up to the bar. Starting a tab and ordering himself a beer. Watching as the bartender cracks off the bottle top. Handing him the cold glass bottle.
Jaime takes it, brings it to his lips, and takes a nice long sip. Sighing when he pulls the bottle from his mouth with soft ‘pop!’.
His eyes scan the bar. Seeing all of the southern people talk and chat with one another.
When finally,
His eyes land on a familiar looking face.
The face is grown up, definitely. He’s unsure if he actually knows this person, and hasn’t just seen him in passing.
But the man turns his head a bit.
The perfect amount of light cascades down his nose, and dips down to the gap between his nostrils and top lip.
He almost drops his beer.
No,
That can’t be.
“Tony?”
Jaime calls before he even registers the name coming from his mouth.
The man hears his name. The voice it’s coming from familiar. Though, just a bit deeper than he recalls.
And the face he’s met with, almost across the bar, nearly knocks the man out of his stool.
He doesn’t hesitate to stand up. Pushing through people as he makes his way to Jaime.
What once was a small smile from across the bar, grows wider as he gets closer.
“Jaime?”
He asks.
Jaime nods. Stunned.
And Tony just stares.
The stupidest, goofiest grin on his face.
“Man, now where the hell ‘ve you been?”
Tony asks. His accent still drawls, just like Jaime remembered.
He could never quite say his ‘e’s without stretching the word out.
“Ah—man—what in the world?” Jaime laughs. Though, the word world coming from the man sounds more like “werld”.
They both laugh. Shocked that they’re seeing eachother after so long.
“Well, dontcha look nice and neat.” Tony jabs lightly. His grin somehow growing.
Jaime almost blushes.
Blushes.
What kind of man was he?
“Well, I coulda said the same ‘bout you. How’ve you been doin’?” Jaime asks. Bringing his bottle to his lips for the first time since his first sip.
Trying to hide how Tony’s words made him smile.
Tony, however, has no shame in smiling.
In fact, his smile grows wider.
“Same old, same old, man. I’ve missed ya’, where’d you end up goin’, eh? Left without a damn word.” Tony chuckles.
Jaime almost cringes.
“I forget I ain’t ever got to tell ya. My momma, she just packed my stuff. Told me we were goin’ away. Already enlisted in a new school and everythin’. Stayed up in western for a while.” Jaime explains. Shrugging almost every other word, it seemed.
Tony puts his full attention to the man in front of him.
When’d he get so attractive?
His eyes slowly scan the man as he speaks. Hanging on to every word. He takes notice to the slight scruff on his jaw, the mustache, the hat. The way his flannel fit his arms, and the way the seams of his blue jeans seemed to hug the sides of his thighs.
Tony looks back up at Jaime’s face after a moment, nodding.
“You ain’t ever thought to send a letter or some’n?” He laughs.
Jaime shrugs.
“Could never tell ya’ yer address. Knew how to get there like the back of my hand, just never know where to address it to.” Jaime laughs softly.
Both of them liking the sounds of each others laughs.
When did this change?
“Well damn, man, I worried ‘bout ya’. I ain’t jokin’.” Tony says. He’s serious, too. He did worry.
Jaime feels a soft warmth spread throughout his ribs at Tony’s confession.
“I worried ‘bout ya’ too, bud.” Jaime says with a soft smile.
They both just look at each-other for a bit. Taking each-other in.
“Can I hug ya’?” Tony finally asks. The grin on his lips gets even stupider.
Jaime nods, barely even hesitating. He opens his arms and welcomes the other man in.
Tony takes the two steps to Jaime’s arms, and wraps his own around Jaime’s middle. Feeling the soft fabric of the flannel against the rough palms of his hands.
He starts rubbing his hands up and down Jaime’s back. His hands gliding against the fabric of the flannel.
And Jaime feels it.
He feels Tony’s touch like a dozen matches,
Even through the thick fabric of his flannel, and the undershirt beneath it.
Jaime slowly lowers his arms, and wraps them around the other man. And god, if he doesn’t hold him tight.
They both stand there in each-other’s embrace, probably for longer than normal friends do.
And finally, when Jaime pulls away, Tony almost chases it. Chases his warmth, his musky scent, the soft rise of his chest with every exhale against his own.
But reluctantly, Tony pulls away as well.
“Would yew uh— would ya’ wantta meet up soon? Like, tomorrow, or somethin’?” Tony asks. Because truthfully, he doesn’t want Jaime to go. Not for so long again.
Jaime can’t help the little smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. He’s nodding before he even recognizes it, but he doesn’t mind.
“Yeah, uh— where’do ya live at now?” Jaime asks.
“Just ‘bout 20 minutes down past all the shops.” Tony says. Waving his hand north.
Jaime nods.
“Would it be too much trouble for ya’ to get over to the little café shop right down the road?” Jaime asks. He feels a little nervous. A little stupid for even asking.
Tony shifts his weight on his feet.
“No, not at all. I can meet ya’ there round 9?” Tony offers with a slight cock of his head.
The action makes Jaime’s smile grow a bit wider.
“Yeah. That’s perfect.” Jaime agrees.
And the rest of the night goes by well. The two catching up, telling stories, getting warmer with eachother as the drinks slowly flow.
And soon, they’re departing.
But not for long.
Because only 14 hours later, the two are meeting eachother at the same café they discussed.
Jaime had gotten there first. He hadn’t ordered himself anything yet, wanting to wait for Tony.
He has on a brown jacket, no hat, blue jeans, and the same pair of embroidered cowboy boots. His hair a bit tousled on the top, but rougher on the shaved sides.
He watches Tony walk in, and immediately smiles. Setting the small menu down and standing up to greet the man.
Tony’s own boots make a soft clink against the wooden floor. Smiling as he approaches Jaime after just a moment of searching.
He picks his steps up.
“Well, good mornin’, ain’t it?” Tony greets. Holding his arms open for a hug.
A hug that Jaime can’t find himself ever declining.*
“It is. Beautiful out. Lovely walk on over ‘ere.” Jaime says. Pulling the other man in for a hug. And it’s not a very manly one.
Again, just like last night, they hold each-other longer than two normal friends would.
But who’s even counting?
The two sit down. Speaking and chuckling lowly as they look over the menu.
When the waiter comes over, Tony orders a nice coffee, with half and half creamer. While Jaime orders a tea.
The two talk. Just kind chatting about their plans, and more on what they do for a living.
Tony is a typical farmer. He lives in a beautiful white barn, with gorgeous horses, and a nice group of various animals ranging from goats, to sheep, to pigs, to even a few dogs.
Jaime works with horses himself. He helps take care of the farm animals around the area—being vet certified. He loves his job.
Their boots gently knock against each others. Both of their right feet knocking eachother, almost absentmindedly.
But eventually, they keep their feet together under the table. The two of them letting the touch simmer, the gentle, almost unnoticeable contact.
By the time the two are leaving, they’re both bashful. Jaime’s cheeks are even tinted a soft, baby pink.
But they weren’t flirting.
It’s eachothers presence.
And when the two are finally outside, their conversation simmering down, and their arms itching to be around the other,
they slowly let each other into the others embrace. Tony’s hands gently roam Jaime’s back. Their chests molding together perfectly. Fitting like a piece of a puzzle. Jaime’s hands gently skim the fabric of the hips of his jeans, and the rough fabric of the others button up. His fingertips just grazing the other male.
and for years, and years after that,
the two share similar hugs,
and a lot more.
the twelve years gone, their thoughts of the other pushed back into their minds, is overridden by the time spent together. the days, nights, and evenings.
there was No Better Time.
