A Little Carried Away

“Hey, Sydney?” Jarin poked his head into the stall he was working in.

“What,” Sydney grumbled back. Truth be told, his $50k investment had yet to pay off. All Jarin had done so far was take his horse and ignore his ass. Treating him like nothing more than a glorified wallet. That wasn’t the Jarin he knew. He had been around that hoity-toity pansy of a rich dickhead-

“Do you want to come ride the trails with me?” Jarin asked softly.

Sydney’s scowl transferred from the tack he was glaring at across to Jarin. What? “Since when did you get a permission slip from yer fuckin’ master to hang ‘round me?” It was always ‘Tristan said this’ and ‘Tristan said that’ blah blah blah bullshit. “I have work to do. Go play on yer own, asshole.” Sydney immediately regretted the words he said. Again, reacting out of jealousy and spite instead of taking the opportunity that Jarin was trying to include him in anything. For fuck’s sake, why was he like this?

“Oh…okay,” Jarin hung his head, feeling dejected. Just when he thought Sydney was softening up a bit, he turned angry and cruel again. It was so confusing. One second Sydney was apologizing and trying to make things up to Jarin and the next he was pushing him away. Jarin sighed, leading Hank away to go ride on his own then. One day, he wanted to really talk to Sydney. With his new job position at the stable, it couldn’t be here. He was respecting Jennie’s wishes to keep his private life away from the stable grounds as best he could.

Entering the wooded trail, Jarin was pretty sure he heard the sounds of hoofbeats. He stopped and looked back to make sure it wasn’t a loose horse and was surprised to see Sydney loping his horse to catch up. “I thought you had work to do?” Jarin asked curiously as Sydney slid to a stop beside him.

Sydney didn’t make much of an expression other than sour, “Yea, well, I’m working on the trails too.” He carried right on past him.

Jarin smiled, following behind him quietly. Whether he really was here by coincidence or on purpose, Jarin appreciated the company. Watching the sign go by that declared they were leaving private property and were now on public national forest land, Jarin took a deep breath in. If one of them was going to take the initiative to make things right again, it was going to be Jarin. No way was brick head Sydney going to express any kind of concern. Jarin sighed, trotting Hank up alongside Sydney’s horse, catching a side-eye. “Sydney, I have a lot to say and I-I hope you listen. I-...first, thank you for what you did for me. Buying that horse. She means so much to me. Like a real opportunity to become someone more than just a stupid kid riding a horse. I wish I could have done it on my own. And maybe I should have waited until I could… but… thank you.”

This confession immediately put Sydney in an uncomfortable position. Ugh, why so touchy-feely? He kept his eyes forward on the trail even when Jarin got too close and his knee bumped into his shin. He gave a half-shrug. Best he could reply with. Well, damn. There was the ‘thank you’ he was wanting. He didn’t expect Jarin to even remember, given that he was so much more concerned about impressing Tristan. Sydney had just been a stepping stone to that goal.

Jarin contained a snicker, knowing this was not the kind of conversation Sydney would want. But so long as he was listening, that’s all that mattered, whether he truly appreciated his sentiment or not. “Second, I…wanted to apologize to you too. For making you really sad. And mad. And I mean that from the very beginning. You know I’m not very…uhm… perceptive?” He tried that word out. Was that the way to describe Jarin’s oblivious nature? “I don’t always see how my actions impact others before I choose to do something,” he further explained just to be sure. When he heard a scoff come from Sydney, he knew he must have picked the right description. “And I promise, I’m really not trying to do things that hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Sydney could die on the spot. He hated this so much. Yuck. Feelings and apologies. Jesus Christ. What a load of shit too. If he was really sincere, he’d stay away from the asshole he was living with! Sydney scoffed again, tipping his chin away. He wasn’t a believer. He wanted to be. But his heart was so closed off and malnourished, it was hard to believe in anything. “Where did you run off to the other night? You never told me…”

“Oh…” Was that what he was more concerned with? Where Jarin ran away to after getting his face rearranged by his elbow? Jarin smiled, “Actually! I can show you! I was hoping you’d join me. I wanted to show you the castle!” Even while Sydney put up a front, he could tell he was going to follow anyway. It was times like these, Jarin saw the glimmers of what they used to be and Jarin would be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest tickle just a little.

It wasn’t much longer before they’d be at the castle. Jarin had taken the lead on the trail before looking over his shoulder, “Hey, Sydney? Are you okay?”

“Huh??” Sydney was caught off guard again by that kind of question. What was this? Some dating show? Sydney was a dude. He was fine. Even if he wasn’t, he was. That’s just how it goes.

“With… you wife and all that? A-Are you okay?” Jarin didn’t know how to exactly ask about the subject. He hadn’t exactly talked to anyone about getting a divorce and having a lover on the side and all that… and then being the one directly involved too. Did he even have a right to ask? Jarin didn’t know. This was all strange.

Sydney scowled with his mouth hanging open. What kind of question was that? “Fuckin’ great,” he answered sarcastically. What did he expect him to say?? How’s the ol’ divorce going that’s going to cripple your assets, outcast you from your family, and leave you emotionally numb to everything around you? Oh, fucking charming! Couldn’t ask for anything better! Fuck off, Jarin. Lucky for Jarin, Sydney just opted for silence after Jarin quickly turned back around in the saddle and trotted ahead. At least he cared, Sydney…

Thankfully, the castle was a much better distraction. Sydney was genuinely impressed, parking the horses out front. “Well, fuckin’ shit. Princess went and found herself a castle…”

He grabbed Sydney’s arm and pulled him for the front gate, leaving the horses tied up, “Come on! Come check it out!”

Sydney got the grand tour of what was left of the place. It really wasn’t anything to suit his style and tastes but it sure wasn’t some old rock in the woods. “Damn.” Sydney looked down at Jarin who looked like he was in Disneyland. He was always going to be a stupid kid that rode a horse. He shouldn’t have been such a dickhead to Jarin the whole ride there. Jarin couldn’t be anything but genuine. Sydney sighed, walking the halls and glancing at the dusty paintings, “I’m serious about divorcing her, Jarin.”

Jarin halted, turning back to Sydney, catching how he lowered his voice. He didn’t expect him to announce that with pride but it made Jarin frown to see how his shoulders slumped. People got divorced all the time in this century. But if it was anything like Jarin thought it felt like, it had to be a really hard decision on Sydney. Maybe the decision had been made easy but the hurt wasn’t any less.

“I shoulda broke it off with her sooner, Jarin,” Sydney explained. “And I tried but she just kept pushin’ the court dates back or schedulin’ them when she knew I couldn’t make it down to Texas. But I ain’t playin’ her games no more. She’s got less than thirty days and I’m void of the marriage no matter what she does. She ain’t gettin’ in the way of us anymore. I’m fuckin’ done…”

Wow, so he was really doing it? Jarin felt bad that he had been so distant from him while he was going through all of this. He knew he had made a few trips to Texas and back but didn’t know that’s what it had been about. To drive all the way there and to get nothing done. But was he doing this for himself or? “I-” Jarin sighed, lowering his eyes and leaning on a doorway, “You’re doing this because you don’t love her anymore, right? Because I would never want you to-”

“Yes, Jarin,” Sydney sighed heavily. “Why else would I?”

“Because you said… you didn’t want her getting in the way of us…” Jarin’s lip trembled slightly. “Like you’re choosing me over her. Like I owe you…”

“Well…” Sydney dropped his hands to his sides before taking a step closer. Owe him? “Jarin, I thought we could have what we had before. You and me. Ain’t no reason-”

“I don’t want what we had before,” Jarin cut him off before having to quickly wipe the tears dripping from his chin. “I…don’t want that at all,” he pushed through clenched teeth. “I never wanted you to lie to me or be so mean and hurt me. I didn’t want to be bad for you to get your attention or punish you like I had any control over you. I don’t want that! I-” Jarin finally looked up to see Sydney’s face all scrunched up with a mix of confusion, hurt, and resolution to stay put and hear him out. So long as Sydney would listen, that’s all that mattered. “I want more than that!”

“More what? I’ve fuckin’ given you everything. Divorce, fifty grand, my fuckin’ horse, my time, what!? What do you want!?” Sydney raised his voice back at him.

Jarin shook his head, declining all of those offers, stomping closure to him to show him if he had to. “More of you, stupid.” Jarin wrapped his arms around Sydney, tugging him close. Jarin had decided. He was done running away from Sydney. As much shit he put him through, Jarin couldn’t deny he thought about him every day, wondering if he was okay. Through taking three steps away, Jarin figure out that all he wanted to do was go running back. He had some fucked up addiction to the asshole and no one had the cure.

Sydney felt his heart get punched. This disgustingly sweet, forgiving, sugar cube was willing to give a walking hellhole like Sydney another chance. Not only another chance but he wanted more. It sparked a little fire in Sydney that skipped over the stages and became a raging inferno within seconds. Sydney wrapped his arms around Jarin in return and picked him up. He pressed him against the wall and leaned down, kissing him hard.

Jarin gasped at being shoved into the wall and the rest of his breath was taken away by Sydney’s kiss. Jarin hesitated for a moment, thinking about Tristan. What would he say…he hadn’t said much about him still having feelings for Sydney. And Jarin couldn’t try to hide his feelings for both any longer as he reached up and tugged Sydney harder into him, sighing with pent-up lust.

Jarin moaned hard and leaned into Sydney to steady himself. He had forgotten how strong his hands were when they dove into his jods and squeezed his ass hard. Jarin staggered and held onto Sydney’s shirt to keep from falling over. He panted, pressing his face into Sydney’s chest, “Th-this isn’t a good place- there’s another person that comes here-” Sydney pressed him to the wall again, working those jods down with one hand while holding Jarin tight to him with the other. Rational thought wasn’t even close to the forefront of Sydney’s mind. He needed this. There was too much pent-up tension between them. This was the only way Sydney knew to get relief from it. He growled over Jarin, “Never stopped us before. If I can fuck you in the equipment shed, I can fuck you in a castle.” Sydney ran his hand between Jarin’s thighs, nudging them open with a knee. He was already starting to feel the blur of reality take hold where he didn’t have to think about a cheating wife, a bastard child in his name, and the end of his career looming in the background. It was just him and Jarin.

Jarin moaned again, falling for the feeling of his hands on his body. Jarin was a sucker for getting manhandled, there was no denying that; a guilty pleasure. He pinched his knees back together, shouldering Sydney to back off, “Sydney, you have to listen to me or I won’t do this. I don’t want to be scared of you…”

A huff from Sydney’s nostrils wafted Jarin’s hair as he leaned back, looking down at Jarin with a stern expression. So this was his angle? Sydney was the big bad scary monster and it was all his fault that he couldn’t be trusted. Not Jarin sleeping around, no that was fine. As if the hickeys on his neck weren’t proof of betrayal already. Sydney wasn’t the one who put them there. He growled, leaning over Jarin, “And you need to listen to me, Princess. Or I ain’t never trustin’ anything you say to me ‘cuz you ain’t been the nicest lil’ shit here recently either.” He reached down below the voluptuous mounds of ass and scooped up those peachy pillows, hauling Jarin up into his arms. He grinned, looking up to Jarin, “Ain’t you heard a word I said from the very start? Didn’t I say I’d take care of you? I did, didn’t I?”

Jarin felt a shudder crawl up his spine that cranked up the temperature of his core. That is what Sydney had said all the way back to the very day he let Sydney have his virginity. Shit. Jarin felt himself being consumed by those glimmering green eyes, eating him up. Why couldn’t he just accept Sydney was a bad person and leave him well enough alone? Because, dammit, when Sydney held him close like this, grinning at him like that, Jarin did feel safe. Despite those same hands having busted his lip, that mouth degrading him, those eyes glowering through his soul, dammit, when they were like this - Jarin didn’t want to let go. “I love you, Sydney. Please don’t hurt me.” Jarin bared his soul to him, pleading he would make the right choice this time.

Despite Jarin saying this wasn’t the place, apparently, he meant just not the hallway. As soon as Sydney shut the door behind him - whatever room this was in the midst of being refurnished and cleaned up - Jarin was back on him. “Lock the door,” Jarin breathed across Sydney’s lips.

Sydney looked over his shoulder at the door. It didn’t have a lock. He glanced across the room and grabbed one of the chairs. “Lose the boots.” Apparently, this was the game they were playing. Listening for love.

And Jarin obliged, awkwardly pulling off his riding boots while watching Sydney prop the chair against the knob and giving it a try. He wrapped his arms over Sydney’s shoulder as he stomped after him in a gust of lust. He didn’t expect Jarin to lose the pants as willingly. He was always a fucking weirdo about getting naked. Instead, Sydney just yanked them down for him, stepping on them as he hoisted Jarin up again, buried into his lips.

Jarin sank his nails into Sydney’s shoulders, tucking his face into his neck. Oh no, not this again. No lube. It made his toes curl, forgetting just how much more it hurt without. It made Sydney seethe, plopping them both down into a dusty chair, and dropping Jarin into his lap. He snatched Jarin’s wrist pulling his claws out of him, “No nails. I'm not ripping your skin open, so don’t fuckin' rip mine open.”

Jarin panted, making a pouty face, “But you are! You need to get lube. This is ridiculous!”

Sydney scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Fuckin’ noted. I can’t just make it appear now, you picky ass.”

“Well, figure something out,” Jarin huffed, the color of his cheeks growing more crimson by the second.

Sydney huffed back at him - honestly getting much satisfaction out of Jarin trying to tell him what the fuck to do. This was way more satisfying than crying over their feelings. He could understand blunt demands. Not like mushy metaphors. He snorted and spit a big loogie just for him.

“Sydney!” Jarin whined at how gross he was! But those whines turned right back into moans with no objections left. It all ramped up so fast. Jarin was the one that took the plunge before Sydney thought he’d be ready. Sydney wasn’t exactly two fingers worth of girth. But Jarin wasn’t in the mood to wait and Sydney sure as fuck wasn’t going to curb his enthusiasm. Fuck, this is all he wanted for so long. The divorce, the fifty grand, his horse, his time - it was all paying off as that ass settled into his lap.

Jarin stared out of the warm glow of the curtains against the windows for a long time as they both caught their breaths. Jarin’s legs were still shaking from it all. Sydney was a very passionate lover that left him sweaty and panting and probably going to walk stiffly for a couple of days. What do they do from here, Jarin thought as a tingle went through his heart.

Probably why he jumped so hard when his phone started ringing from his pants on the floor. Jarin blushed, grinning slightly at Sydney, “Uh, er, let me answer this.” He wriggled off of Sydney’s lap, tugging his tank top down to stay as decent as he could. “H-Hey, Tristan! Are you headed to the stables already?” Jarin had completely lost track of time! Apparently it was time he should head back and get ready for his riding lessons with Tristan!

Sydney had pulled his jeans back up but had yet to get out of the chair just yet, content to sit for a bit longer as the blood flowed back to his legs again. “And the master comes callin’,” Sydney rolled his eyes, showing just how thrilled he was to hear Tristan was on the other end and Jarin would go running to him.

“He’s not my master,” Jarin tried to smile, rearranging his clothes to look a little more put together. “I need to get going. Are you coming?”

After a hesitation and a hard stare, Sydney got to his feet. Not to follow Jarin, but to grab a hold of him, holding him tight to his chest, “You do everything he tells you. Why do you keep goin’ back to that asshole?”

Jarin pushed his way out of Sydney’s arms, gabbing the chair that was blocking the door shut, “He is not an asshole. Don’t call him that.” Jarin spoke in a tone that was very serious. He could hear Sydney growl behind him but he didn’t care. He was tired of Sydney belittling Tristan. And the painful irony that Sydney was calling Tristan the asshole??

“I call it as I see it, Jarin,” Sydney huffed, helping to pry the chair loose so Jarin could open the door. “He’s a fuckin’ assbag-”

Without so much as a second thought, Jarin reeled back a hand and slapped it across Sydney’s face as hard as he could, “I said don’t!” Not a tick went by before they both stared at each other in stunned silence. Jarin hunkered into a standing fetal position before realizing all Sydney had done was reach forward and open the door for Jarin.

“I’m sorry,” Jarin whispered, taking a very hurried leave through the door. Why the hell had he slapped him!? Well, he knew why but…WHY?? And then Sydney didn’t even so much as budge or swear or retaliate or say a word!? Not at any point down the hallways or out the main door. Not until they were untying the horses.

“Let’s get you back,” Sydney finally said flatly as he mounted up and headed back on the trail.

Jarin found it more disturbing than anything that there was a lack of reaction! It drove him absolutely mad that Sydney wasn’t doing anything like it hadn’t even registered. Finally, Jarin had to know, hurrying Hank to his side, “Sydney, I’m sorry for slapping you! I shouldn’t have done that! I’m sorry!”

Sydney smirked out of all the reactions he could have had. He glanced over to Jarin, knowing he was bugging out over it the whole time. “We all get a little carried away sometimes and feel bad about it, don’t we?”

Jarin went quiet again, falling back and letting that sink in. True. He had let his emotions get the best of him and did something he didn’t mean. Sydney was making a point of what had happened between them. Sydney had been saying the same things to Jarin. He didn’t mean for it to happen. Anger just got the best of him. It didn’t make him a bad person. And now Jarin had done the same. Jarin hung his head for a long time before finally looking back up with a hopeless smile. They were all assholes. None of them were immune to it.