Bullheaded

his muscles sagged in surrender to fatigue and booze, and his head rolled to the side as he fell instantly asleep, giving Johnny a chance to stare at him without feeling stalkerish about it. With a gentle finger, he traced the scar on the square jaw from the time a bull’s horn had gashed Cody.
    The contented humming sound he heard turned out to be him. Johnny rested his head on Cody’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

    W AKING up hot, sticky, and with a kink in his neck, Cody peered around the room blearily, looking for Johnny. He was alone. His head hurt. He pushed the blanket off and staggered to the bathroom to bleed his lizard and take a shower.
    When he emerged, Johnny was in the room, eating breakfast and watching TV with the sound off. A takeout bag sat unopened on the table. Cody moaned at the smell of sausage and also with the pain of his hangover. “Coffee.”
    “And aspirin. By your takeout.” Johnny pointed with his biscuit.
    “You really are a lifesaver, in the ring and out.”
    They ate in blessed silence, and by the time he finished Cody was feeling a bit better.
    “How can you eat when you have a hangover?”
    “I didn’t drink that much,” Cody explained. “Besides, I need the energy. Got a buckle to win tonight.”
    “You gonna work out?”
    “Of course.”
    “Keep you company?”
    “Meet you at the gym.”
    It sucked, Cody thought, that they couldn’t just rock up to the gym together, but it was safer this way. It had only been three months since Johnny came up to the Top Cut to work, but already Cody felt as if it had been years that they traveled together. Bull riders and the fans were a conservative crowd in general. Somehow he didn’t think they’d take kindly to one of the stars of the ring keeping house with another guy like a married couple.
    On the other hand, watching Johnny walk into the gym put a different slant on things than going in next to him. It gave Cody a chance to relive the first time he ever laid eyes on him. That little kick of possessiveness always reared up when he saw heads turn at the sight of him. Females for sure, but even some guys you’d never suspect stared at Johnny.
    Of course, Johnny stood out. He was the most beautiful man there, tall, slim, and strong, with his dark skin and long, lustrous black hair caught back in a braid. Cheekbones you could cut yourself on, glittering obsidian eyes that sometimes looked so dark you’d think they were all pupil. His nose had been broken often enough to be slightly flat with a bump, but Cody loved every scar on his body. There were no other Navajo in the gym, although there were a few Native American riders on the circuit. Diné, Cody corrected himself. Johnny had at least drilled that into him.
    “Hey,” Johnny said casually as he put his towel down on a bench.
    “Hey.”
    The two men worked out in silence, switching machines for their reps until droplets of sweat glistened on Johnny’s coffee-colored skin. Cody couldn’t help staring; he wanted to lick them off.
    It would have to wait ’til they got home to the ranch.
    When they headed to the showers, Cody purposely took one at the other end of the bank of stalls. No peeking in public.
    “See you later, then,” Johnny said as he left.
    “See you.” Cody watched him walk away, unaware of the little smile playing across his own lips. They wouldn’t see each other again until that afternoon in the arena. Johnny would be doing whatever Zen group thing Vern decreed for the fighters, and Cody would be sitting in a darkened room, visualizing each ride and how he intended it would go.
    Also the moment when they handed him another buckle and he held it up for the crowd’s roar of approval.

    T HE bull lunged forward in the chute and almost succeeded in banging Cody’s forehead on the rail. Only Dub’s hand on his vest saved him from another concussion. If he had one. At thirty-two and having ridden professionally since he was eighteen, he’d had enough of them to know when he had one, despite what the medic said.
    “Fuck. Thanks, Dub.” Cody released the rope and the gateman pulled it free. He’d have to wrap again.
    “Bull’s in a cantankerous mood tonight.” Dub was perched on the rails of the chute, with a firm grip on the back of Cody’s vest. “You can take him, though.”
    “Yeah, I hope.” Cody exchanged a quick grin with Dub before lowering himself onto the bull’s back again. Normally Grizzly Rain was calm in the chute and a demon