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A Time For Everything	By : cowgirl65 Category: 1 through F > The Big Valley Views: 1445 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Jarrod tried to ignore the familiar voices and the clatter of footsteps in the hall, but it was hard. He gritted his teeth against the wave of homesickness and concentrated on his book instead of feeling jealous that Nat Springer was able to go home to Chicago for Christmas and that he was taking Phil Archer, another of their classmates, with him. He wasn’t jealous that Nat had asked Phil, even though he couldn’t understand why anyone would bring that weasely rat home. Jarrod pondered breaking into their lodgings and stashing a dead fish somewhere while they were gone where it would be nearly impossible to find. But even if Phil deserved it for the way he ratted Jarrod and Brett out for painting black stripes on Prof. Richmond’s mare, Nat didn’t and besides, the stench would likely make its way to their place too.
No, it was just the fact that the trip to Stockton was too long for him to be able to see his family over the holidays. In fact, it was probably too long to even go back in between terms and he knew he likely wouldn’t see them again until after he graduated. Jarrod took a deep breath. He was an adult, he reminded himself, and he didn’t need his parents to look after him. But they had always been close and he missed them terribly along with his brother Nick and little Audra, who was young enough that she might not even remember her big brother when he finally returned home.
Jarrod was grateful that the knock on the door broke him from his thoughts before any tears trickled down his cheeks. He opened it to find his landlady holding a large package.

“This was just delivered for you, Mr. Barkley.” She handed the brown paper wrapped parcel over to him. “I understand you and Mr. Schuyler are staying here over the holiday?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jarrod’s spirit lightened when he saw that the parcel was from home, but was then surprised when Mrs. Campbell said, “You are both welcome to share Christmas dinner with myself and my sister if you wish.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he replied when the surprise had passed. “I’m not sure if I can speak for Brett, but I’d be honoured to join you.”
The matronly woman smiled. “We’ll see you at two o’clock for dinner day after tomorrow then.” She turned away and Jarrod closed the door. He and Brett had planned to treat themselves to the Christmas dinner put on by the prestigious Planter House Hotel, but a hotel dinner, no matter how sumptuous, didn’t compare in Jarrod’s mind to a home-cooked meal and he hoped Brett would agree.
Jarrod took his parcel to the table. When he couldn’t get the tightly knotted string untied, he retrieved a knife from a drawer in the small sideboard, cut it and tore off the brown paper. Eagerly opening the box, Jarrod first took out the letter on top. He read the short missive from his mother wishing him a happy holiday and explaining that there was a gift included for Brett as well as for him.
Jarrod smiled. In the letters that were sent and arrived every week, Jarrod had written about his studies and the friends he was making, especially Brett. It was just like his mother to include something for his roommate as well.
He pulled out the tissue wrapped packages from his parents, brother and even one from his little sister, the printing on the tag in a childish hand making him smile more. At the bottom of the box were cut out angels and stars like the ones he and Nick used to make. Again, Jarrod had to fight off the homesickness that threatened to overwhelm him as he hung them on the pine boughs they’d placed in the window to make the room more festive.
He turned at the sound of the door opening. “Hey, Brett,” he greeted.
“What do you have there?” Brett asked as he hung his coat and hat by the door.
“A Christmas package from my family.” Jarrod grinned. “They sent something for you too.”
The flash of pain on Brett’s face was gone so quickly that Jarrod almost didn’t see it. Brett hadn’t said why he wasn’t leaving for Christmas, even though he was only a short train ride away from his home in Columbus, and Jarrod hadn’t thought it was his place to ask. “That was thoughtful of them,” was Brett’s only response.
Jarrod could see the stiffness in Brett’s shoulders as he put away the clean laundry he’d brought home. Thinking back, he didn’t remember Brett ever receiving a letter or anything else from home. No, another man’s life wasn’t his business, but Brett wasn’t just another man, he was Jarrod’s friend. He walked over and squeezed Brett’s shoulder. “You okay? If you want to talk…” He felt a bit of the tension leave Brett’s muscles.
“My father won’t be sending anything,” Brett said, bitterness in his eyes as he turned to face Jarrod. “He’s only paying my tuition, room and board to keep me out of his sight.” Then his expression changed and he looked away. “He caught me in the carriage house with the valet. We were… well, you know.”
Jarrod was pretty sure he did know as he gripped Brett’s shoulder in reassurance. They hadn’t talked about it since that night when Brett revealed he was sexually attracted to men and Jarrod was almost able to push it aside just like when he worked with Abe or Henry back home. Almost, but not quite. The couple back at the ranch were grizzled veterans of life on the range, not a tall well-favoured man with the physique of a classical statue who gave him appreciative glances when he thought Jarrod wouldn’t notice. Glances that Jarrod found himself returning more often than he liked to admit.
And sometimes, late at night, he’d touch himself as he wondered what it would be like to be stroked by Brett or to have another man’s penis in his own hand. He wondered how it would feel to taste lips surrounded by stubble, to have another hard organ pushing against his and have those muscular arms hold him tightly as he spewed his hot seed against Brett’s belly.
Jarrod shook his head and adjusted his pants while Brett wasn’t looking. He didn’t want to give Brett the wrong idea when he wasn’t sure what he wanted himself. Instead, he tried to cheer Brett up, even if only a little. “At least we won’t have to eat dinner at a hotel. Mrs. Campbell invited us to join her.”
Brett smiled wanly. “That was nice of her. Do you think she’d like us to bring some sherry or at least a bottle of wine?”
Jarrod shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” Then he grinned. “She probably wouldn’t appreciate it if we brought that jug of corn whiskey we smuggled up here.”
That elicited a chuckle from Brett. “If we’re going to pick something up, it should be today. The stores’ll be closed tomorrow and for the holiday.” He punched Jarrod’s arm playfully. “You can probably afford it more than I can.”
“Good idea.” Jarrod retrieved his hat and coat. “Don’t open the presents while I’m gone,” he warned over his shoulder as he left and was gratified to hear Brett laugh.

Along with a bottle of wine and one of sherry, Jarrod picked up a couple fine linen handkerchiefs for his landlady and her sister as tokens of appreciation for their thoughtfulness in extending the invitation to him and Brett. He’d already gotten a box of fine cigars for his roommate and the presents to his family had been sent over a month ago so they’d make it to Stockton in time for Christmas. Again he felt a pang of homesickness as he walked down the hall to the apartment and sent a thought of good wishes to his family.
He didn’t see Brett right away when he walked in. No lamps were lit in the growing darkness of evening and the room was in shadows. “Brett?” he asked as he lit a lamp. Then he did see Brett at the table and the unstoppered jug of whiskey sitting beside him. His hazel eyes were bleary and Jarrod saw the tracks of tears on his cheeks.
Setting down his purchases, Jarrod went to his friend’s side. “Brett? What’s wrong?”
Brett didn’t speak, he just thrust a piece of paper at Jarrod. Jarrod took it and unfolded it to read the telegram message.

Brett Schuyler
Father passed away -stop- carriage accident -stop- at his request no funeral -stop- will be in touch after holiday -stop
Wm. Barrnett, esq.

Jarrod looked back at Brett to find him staring into nothingness. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t even close to adequate, but Jarrod couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“You know what the last thing he said to me was? That I was an abomination and that he no longer had a son.” Brett took another swig from the jug before he looked Jarrod straight in the eye. “And you know what I said back? I said it didn’t matter because he’d never been much of a father anyway.” That was when the sobs started. “I loved him, Jarrod, he was the best father I could ever imagine and I told him he didn’t matter. I let him down and now I’ll never be able to tell him how much I loved him.”
Jarrod got down on his knees and wrapped his arms tightly around Brett’s shaking form. He couldn’t even imagine how Brett must be feeling and made a silent vow to tell his own father how much he loved and admired him every chance he got as he tried to comfort his friend.
Slowly the shaking stopped. Jarrod rubbed Brett’s back reassuringly and Brett turned his head to look at him. “Thanks, Jarrod,” he said quietly.
Their faces were only inches away from each other and Jarrod could feel Brett’s warm breath on his cheek. Slowly, Brett leaned forward until they were almost touching and then he kissed Jarrod longingly on the lips.
Jarrod was too shocked to even pull away. He let Brett’s mouth explore his as his senses reeled. He could hardly notice any roughness on Brett’s lip and wondered absently if he had managed to shave that close as well. Brett’s hand came up to cup his cheek and Jarrod’s attention turned to the strong fingers that stroked his skin and the growing heat in his pants.
Suddenly, Brett’s lips were gone and Jarrod realized he’d been holding his breath as he gasped for air.
“Oh, god, Jarrod, I’m sorry!” Brett’s expression was a mix of horror and shame. He tried to get up and get away, but when the chair pushed back, he stumbled and fell into Jarrod.
Jarrod held on tightly as Brett struggled to get away. He couldn’t abandon his friend when he was in pain from his father’s rejection and his subsequent rejection of him. Jarrod knew Brett was attracted to him and if he accepted Brett’s attentions it might go a long way in healing his battered spirit. He obviously wasn’t revolted by the idea; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Jarrod’s stomach clenched anxiously even as his dick strained against his pants. Was he really thinking of doing something considered so immoral?
There are many kinds of people in the world, Jarrod. Just live and let live as long as no one is being harmed. Remembering his father’s words, Jarrod wondered if his father would be so tolerant if it was his son they were discussing, but he also knew he had to be true to himself. He was attracted to Brett and, in spite of his apprehension, he wanted to be with him.
Jarrod knew there would be consequences; exactly what he could only guess, but they’d deal with that later. Right now all that mattered was the moment. Jarrod cupped his hand against Brett’s neck, leaned in and kissed him hard.
This time Jarrod took the initiative. He plundered Brett’s lips with the passion borne of a newly awakened need and when he pushed with his tongue, Brett parted his lips to let him inside. Lust building in his belly, Jarrod fumbled with the buttons of Brett’s shirt while his tongue explored Brett’s mouth and when they didn’t open fast enough, Jarrod just grabbed both sides and pulled. The fabric tore and Jarrod’s hands roamed over the exposed skin. He’d never felt like this before, even with the highly priced courtesan his father had arranged for before he left.
Brett wasn’t slow in responding. Jarrod’s shirt suffered the same fate as Brett’s as Jarrod pushed the other man onto his back. He could feel the hardness of Brett’s cock through the fabric of their trousers and ground his hips slowly against it.
His mouth left Brett’s to move down his neck, sucking harder on the pulse he found there when Brett moaned. “God, Jarrod…”
Hands reaching down, Jarrod unfastened first Brett’s pants and then his own. He felt the heat of Brett’s erection against his and lifted his hips slightly so his hand could encircle them both. Both of them were leaking and that provided Jarrod the lubrication he needed. He thrust up against Brett, his hand working them as well, and Brett responded in kind. Jarrod lost himself in the pure sensual delight of bodies writhing together, sweat-slick skin rubbing on sweat-slick skin, the slight pain of Brett’s fingers digging into his skin after slipping into his pants to grab his ass and the animalistic need as their cocks strained against each other.
Brett succumbed first; his body tensed and Jarrod felt the sticky heat as his hand was covered in Brett’s release at the same time he heard Brett call out his name. Waves of ecstasy crashed though him and Jarrod thrust hard, expelling his own seed to mingle with Brett’s. He shuddered as they died away and collapsed across Brett, his face burrowed in his lover’s neck.
Cautious fingers came up to play with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Jarrod, I never expected…” Brett’s voice trailed off.
“Don’t worry, neither did I.” Jarrod pushed himself off Brett and into a sitting position. Normally as neat and tidy with his appearance as Jarrod was, Brett was sweaty and dishevelled and unbelievably sexy with his torn shirt and a just-fucked expression on his face. Jarrod wondered if Brett was thinking the same thing about him and even though he’d just had a mind-blowing orgasm, his cock twitched.
Brett didn’t bother to sit up. “I thought you didn’t like this sort of thing.” He gestured towards his limp penis.
Jarrod couldn’t help a chuckle. “I guess I was wrong.” He was glad to see the corner of Brett’s mouth quirk in a small grin.
Then Brett grew serious again. “Jarrod, maybe you should think about this. I mean, not only does the Bible say we’re gonna burn in Hell, but it’s pretty damn illegal too.”
“Then we won’t tell anyone.” He didn’t want to think of how his father might react, he could only hope that he’d have the same tolerance towards his son as he did to others. “And besides, I don’t want to think right now.” Jarrod stood, took off his boots and removed his pants the rest of the way. There was still pain lurking in Brett’s eyes and Jarrod wanted him to know that he was here for him. He held out his hand. “C’mon.”
Brett hesitated a moment before taking the proffered hand. He let Jarrod lead him to his bed, stripped his clothes as well and soon Jarrod was spooned up behind him.
“Y’know, I’ve wanted you ever since we met,” Brett admitted. “You’re just too damned gorgeous.”
Jarrod was glad he was where Brett couldn’t see him blush. “I’ve looked at you, too,” he confessed. “Sometimes I even wondered how it would feel to do what we just did.” Jarrod placed a soft kiss on the back of Brett’s neck. “It was better than I imagined.”
Brett took Jarrod’s hand and pulled his arm more tightly around him. “There’s more we can do,” he offered tentatively. “If you want to.”
Jarrod didn’t have anything to say to that. With his dick pushed against the crease of Brett’s ass, he could imagine what was being suggested. It started to swell at the prospect of being buried in that hot tightness as he remembered the one time he’d done it that way on one of his infrequent visits to a whorehouse. The girl was worried about a baby and Jarrod didn’t want that either, so when she insisted on him doing her that way, he had. It had been so hot and tight that Jarrod got himself off on the memory for weeks.
But the idea of Brett turning the tables and wanting to penetrate him gave Jarrod pause. Did he want that? What they’d already done was one thing, being fucked up the ass was another.
“I want you in me, Jarrod,” Brett breathed. “I want you to ride me hard and put me up wet.”
That did cause a surge of blood to Jarrod’s cock. “I don’t know, Brett,” he said hesitantly, “this is still all new to me.”
Brett twisted to look at him. “I’m not asking for the same from you, Jarrod,” he told his friend. “I’ll gladly oblige you if you want it, but I won’t ask it.” He stretched to kiss him. “Go grab some lard, it’ll make it easier.”
Jarrod held Brett’s gaze for a long moment, saw the sincerity in his eyes and nodded. He retrieved the tin of lard and came back to find Brett on his back, knees bent and legs spread. He knelt between them. “Start with your finger.” Jarrod didn’t bother to tell him about the whore and followed Brett’s lead. He slicked his hand up with lard and pushed a finger through the tight opening. “Oh, yeah,” Brett moaned, “just a little farther…” Jarrod’s finger brushed against a hard nub and Brett arched off the bed. “That’s it, is that ever it.” He caught Jarrod’s eyes and gasped again when Jarrod’s finger ran over the same spot.
Pumping in and out, Jarrod added a second finger. Brett writhing on the bed was incredibly hot and Jarrod’s cock demanded its turn. “Can I…?’ he asked.
“Oh, god, Jarrod, stick it in me.”
Jarrod greased up his cock with the lard on his hand, held it firmly and pushed against Brett’s opening. It didn’t go in right away so Jarrod pushed harder. The head of his cock popped through the ring of muscle and he was balls deep in Brett’s ass before he knew it. Brett’s eyes flew open wide at the sudden penetration, but his hips lifted against Jarrod.
“Fuck me, Jarrod, as hard as you want.”
Jarrod didn’t need any other encouragement. His cock felt like it was surrounded by molten metal and the tightness of Brett’s ass gliding along it as he thrust was heaven. Each time he pulled out far enough that when he drove back in, the tip of his cock hit that spot that was driving Brett wild. Hooking his arms under Brett’s knees to force them wider, Jarrod fucked his friend with a punishing rhythm and watched as Brett grabbed his own leaking cock and stroked it roughly. Brett’s muscles clenched down on Jarrod’s cock and several jets of milky fluid shot from his cock. Jarrod knew his own release was close; he plunged into Brett as hard as he could and shot his seed deep inside.
His dick slowly slipped out of Brett’s ass and again he found himself spooned against Brett and his back to the wall on the narrow bed. They’d have to decide on how things stood between them but both of them had emotions that were running high. A good night’s sleep and they could figure things out in the morning.
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A Time For Everything