Chapter 1-4
776 Words
The early afternoon flight from Newark across the Atlantic was thankfully less crowded than their earlier flight. Barry had lain awake the previous couple of nights, worrying something would go wrong or that Jake and Jimmy would hate England, that the hands back on the ranch would starve. Rory had agreed to reheat the meals Barry had pre-prepared and put in the freezer, Barry writing out detailed instructions for Rory to follow. But what if…
“Babe?” Jake whispered, leaning in and rubbing a hand up Barry’s arm. “You okay? Looked like something was bothering you.”
“Sorry.” Barry shrugged. “You know me. If I’m not planning something or worrying about my plans, then I’m asleep.” And according to his men, he sometimes ground his teeth and mumbled while asleep.
Jake treated Barry to a ‘you’re silly but I wouldn’t have you any other way’ smile. “Relax. You’re not flying the plane, or feeding its passengers. Even though I’m sure you’d do a damn fine job at either.”
Barry chuckled. His men had an over-inflated opinion of his abilities. Although, come to think of it, he probably could have made more inspired menu choices if he’d been in charge of in-flight catering.
“What’s worrying you the most? Your acceptance speech?”
Barry laughed. “Haven’t written one.”
Jake’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Thought it’d be bad luck. There’s no guarantee the game will win anything.”
It was clear Jake didn’t believe that. This made Barry worry all the more. His men put so much faith in his abilities and Barry feared disappointing them.
“Relax,” Jake said, rubbing Barry’s knee. “Watch a movie or something. They’ve got a pretty good choice.”
Barry considered it before shaking his head. “Nah. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
“So try and get some sleep then.”
Barry yawned. He could certainly do with the rest. “I can’t sleep sitting up.”
“There should be enough empty seats that you could probably find three together and stretch out.”
Barry doubted that, as other people would have already had the same idea. Besides, for the past sixteen months he’d slept every night with his cowboys, and doubted he’d be able to sleep if he were separated from them. That was another reason why he’d rejected the idea of business class. They didn’t have three seats all together, and he knew there’d be arguments about who sat with whom if they had to be separated. They were a threesome, and Barry wouldn’t have it any other way. He patted Jake’s knee. “I’m right where I want to be.”
They both looked over at the window seat and a softly snoring Jimmy. His baby face looked peaceful and untroubled.
“To think he was scared shitless of getting on the plane in Denver,” Jake observed.
“I knew he’d take it in stride once he got used to it.” Barry yawned again.
“You excited about going home?”
Barry shook his head.
“No?”
Barry turned in his seat to more easily face Jake. “England isn’t my home. Not anymore. The Double J is my home.”
Jake’s smile was of…relief?
Barry pointed up at the overhead lockers. “Remember what I said just now about being happy where I am?”
Jake nodded.
“Wherever my cowboys lay their hats, that’s my home.” He chuckled. “God, that sounds like a line from a country music song. But it’s true.”
Jake leaned in and whispered, “If I wasn’t in a cabin full of potential homophobes I’d lay one big, wet, soppy kiss on you right now.”
Barry stifled a groan.
Growing serious, Jake said, “I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought that once you got back to England you’d realize you’d missed it so much you’d want to stay.”
“Not a chance,” Barry said louder than he’d intended. More softly, he added, “Home is with you and Jimmy.”
“Damn right,” a sleepy Jimmy announced.
Barry found himself being pulled to his left to receive a hug and a discreet kiss to the cheek from his blue cowboy.
* * * *
“Are we there yet?” Jimmy yawned and stretched his arms and legs.
Barry grinned and shook his head. “We’ll be passing over Dublin in a bit. Should be landing in Manchester soon.”
“Good, I’m hungry,” Jake said.
Although the snack they’d been served a while ago had been okay, Barry knew it wasn’t enough to satisfy his hungry cowboys. “We’ll find a McDonald’s or something before going to the hotel.”
“You guys have McDonald’s?” Jimmy chipped in.
“Less of the ‘you guys,’ please,” Barry said. “I’m a bona fide American now.”
Jimmy’s smile turned lecherous and his hand began to creep up Barry’s leg.
“Don’t go there.” Barry slapped Jimmy’s hand away.
“What?” Jimmy tried to look innocent.
Barry leaned closer and whispered, “My boner.” At a more normal volume he added, “They’ll be putting on the fasten-seatbelts sign in a minute, so if you need the bathroom, then go now.” Again whispering, he added, “Alone.”
Jimmy tried on his best puppy dog expression, but Barry remained unmoved. If they were to find a suitable bathroom in the airport he just might reconsider. Did being forced to sit between his two studly cowboys for over twelve hours and not able to love on them count as cruel and unusual punishment? And while he was asking questions of himself, was it normal to still think he was in the honeymoon phase of his relationship, even after sixteen months?
- Writer
