Copyright © 2026 J.P. Russell. The author asserts the application of all U.S. and associated international copyright protections and all rights to this original work of fiction. Do not reproduce without explicit written permission, etc.
Angel of the Morning
I awoke the next morning to the smell of frying bacon. For a moment I couldn’t make out where I was, then my still-sore ass brought it all back in a torrent of remembered desire mingled with sudden uncertainty. Did that really happen? There was no other reason for waking up naked in Grady’s bed, dried cum on my skin, a cold wet spot under my ass, the undertone of sex still lingering in the air. I felt a surge of adrenaline course through me.
What now? Last night he was so loving, so gentle, so present, but I’d already had enough hard-dicked nighttime Romeos with morning-after regrets to know how fragile this moment could be. And I’d even let him come inside me. The first hints of panic started to claw at my chest.
I needed to know what he was thinking. If this was a one-time deal and we were back to buddy status, or worse, I needed to know and I needed it to be quick—I didn’t want to stick around and watch my heart get smashed into the gravel on my way out.
He was lonely, I told myself.
He needed some comfort.
I was convenient.
It didn’t mean anything.
By the time I’d found my crumpled clothes and gotten dressed I felt as prepared as was possible for the inevitable rejection. I took a deep breath, walked out of his room, and headed over to the kitchen.
Grady was at the stove when I came around the corner. He looked up and his face lit up like he’d just stepped into the sunshine after a long, dark night. He was at my side in two steps and pulled me close for a smooth and sultry morning kiss. I squeezed his biceps and felt my knees quiver, but I didn’t pull back. He didn’t seem to mind that I hadn’t yet brushed my teeth, and I liked how he tasted this morning, the heady mixture of bitter coffee and bacon.
“Morning, beautiful,” he said, nuzzling his beard against my cheek. “Sleep okay?”
“God yes,” I sighed. “I’d still be sleeping if it wasn’t for all that deliciousness wafting through the house. I’m like a bloodhound for that stuff.”
He chuckled, squeezing my ass playfully. “Good thing I fried up a bunch of it. Sit down and I’ll get you some coffee.”
I went in for a hug. “You focus on the skillet—I’ll get the coffee.” He grunted happily and turned back to the stove, and I put the kettle on the back burner for the French press. He hummed a tuneless melody as he pulled out another pan and poured in some oil to heat for the eggs.
“Over easy, right?” he asked. I nodded, happy that he’d remembered, and set the table. We moved in an easy rhythm together, like we’d been cooking together for years. It was a little domestic dance between just the two of us, but I still felt like the bubble was about to burst. It had never been this easy, not even with Alex. Could it possibly be that way with Grady?
“Food’s ready,” he said, waving me to the kitchen table where we ate all our meals together. But today that space felt different, deeper, like it was our table, our place, our time together. But I made myself stop daydreaming in that direction—we were so far away from anything like that right now. One day, one moment, at a time.
Grady seemed to sense something was on my mind. “Everything okay?” he asked, an edge of hesitation in his voice. And it suddenly occurred to me that maybe he had the same fear I did, that he worried this had been just a one-time thing for me too, that it was a shallow hookup rather than…whatever it might have been.
I smiled and took his big hand in my own. “Everything’s okay. Just…haven’t had someone want to stick around to have breakfast with me before. It’s a new feeling. I like it.”
He looked at me with such gentleness and understanding that I felt a knot catch in my throat. “You deserve to have someone who wants to stay, Ben.”
I didn’t know what to say or how to respond. It was such an utterly simple and sincere statement, but it meant so much more than I could say. “Thanks for saying that,” I finally managed to get out.
He squeezed my hand. “I’ll stay. If that’s what you want.”
I took a shuddering breath and asked the big question that had been on my mind since I woke up. “But why me? You’re like…a god, like a genuine gorgeous mountain man slash welder slash barista who could honestly have anyone in the world, or a line of them. I’m…just some nerdy college kid who still hasn’t figured out his major or his life. What do you see in me?”
He looked at me incredulously. “Seriously? Hell, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He pulled my chin up and our eyes locked, blue on brown. “Listen to me. You’re smart and curious—not a common combination—and you really believe in the good in people. You’re not a cynic or too cool to be your own weird self.” He chuckled at my frown. “I like your weird self, Ben. You’ve got all this interesting stuff in that brain of yours and you’re the least boring person I’ve ever me. You're funny, flirty, playful. You live in the moment, and find beauty everywhere. You pay attention to the little things. And you see me. You see everything. That’s really rare. Plus you’re hot as fuck and gave me the most mind-blowing sex of my life last night. Seriously. Want me to go on?”
I shook my head. My throat was tight—I could barely speak. No one had ever said things like that to me. Those words loosened something around my heart, a protective layer I didn’t even know existed. “So what now?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I know I’m glad you’re here, and I know I want you to stay as long as you want to. I know you’re planning to go back to school, and I think you should, because you’ve got dreams and I want you to follow them.” He leaned in and kissed me again. “I know you’re going to visit your family this weekend and celebrate your big birthday with them, and I know at the end of that visit you’re coming back home to me, and that I’m going to give you a long birthday fuck that’ll leave us both walking funny on Monday morning. That’s all I need to know right now. How does that sound to you?” He winked, and I rolled my eyes and pushed him away with a grin so wide it almost hurt.
“I think you just read my mind. Happy birthday to me!” We toasted each other with our coffee mugs as we dove into our first breakfast together in this new…whatever it was. I was happy, and so was he. It didn’t need to be more right now.
----------
It was great to see my family, but at first I was only half present—my thoughts were constantly back at the ranch with Grady. It was clear they all felt my distraction, too, though Dad chalked it up to me working too hard. Mom and Mark had their suspicions, I think, especially when I started humming Conway Twitty’s “You’ve Never Been This Far Before” while I cleaned up after my Friday night birthday cake.
I caught their shared glance but figured it was best to just ignore it. What was I going to say, that I’d been pounded within an inch of my life by my staggeringly hot summer employer? That I liked it and wanted more—a lot more? That I was completely, head-over-heels in love with the man? We weren’t the kind of family that talked about my romantic life or anything gay—I knew they loved and supported me, but this was a world they didn’t really understand, and it had always been enough that I knew they wanted me to be happy and safe.
This was just between me and Grady, and I kind of liked that. It was nice having something that was just ours.
But I could tell they’d all missed me, even grumpy Uncle Dennis, so with some effort I pushed thoughts of Grady to the side so I could focus on being home with them, and Saturday and Sunday went well. I told them about the improvements we were making at the ranch, and Dad, Dennis, and Mark all seemed to approve of Grady’s plans. Dennis even offered to help us when it was time to start sourcing horses and cattle. He knew that world better than anyone, even Dad, and I was grateful for the offer.
After breakfast on Saturday Mom and I went to city hall to get my temporary new driver’s license, and I could tell that she clocked that I put Saddle Mountain Ranch as the delivery address for the permanent one. We then went home and made cinnamon rolls in the Honeybee Café style, complete with their coffee-butter icing and candied pecans. That afternoon we all played cribbage, and in spite of it being my birthday they took no mercy on me and I lost every game. Later in the day I went with Dad and Mark to the liquor store in town, where they proudly had me present my temporary license to a very skeptical Brenda Sanchez, who’d owned the place as long as I could remember, and smacked my back in glee as I bought my first legal beer, a coming-of-age moment that was both very weird and very sweet.
I didn’t tell them that I'd chosen Grady’s favorite pale ale, or that taking a swig from on a long bottle while imagining our night together gave me a silly, secret little thrill, though I didn’t indulge that thinking too much in case I revealed too much. Beer wasn’t really my thing, but it meant a lot to them and I was glad to share in this rite of passage. I made sure to pick some up for Grady when I got back to the ranch, along with a nice Cabernet we could both share.
On Sunday afternoon I started packing up for the return trip. Mom stopped in the hallway just outside the door of my room. Dad, Dennis, and Mark were out, as they’d gotten a call to help out with about a couple of cows on the wrong side of a neighbor’s fence. They’d already said their goodbyes, so it was just the two of us.
She watched me putting my things in my knapsack and sighed. “We miss you around here. Gone all summer, and then before you know it you’ll be back to school. My little boy is growing up.”
I put down the pants I was folding and gave her a hug. “I’ll always be your little boy, Mom.”
She smiled, but her eyes were sad. “I just wish we saw more of you.”
“It was your idea that I stay up at the ranch, remember?”
“I know,” she said, a bit defensively. “I just didn’t think you’d be away quite so much.”
I sat on the end of the bed. “It’s a lot of work, Mom. I can’t just phone it in or show up when I want to. It’s a real job. And I’m enjoying it. I’m making good money, and it’s going to help him out a lot this year.”
“And how is Grady? He’s treating you okay?” I felt the layers of the question as my cheeks started to get warm.
“He’s been great. He seems to appreciate the work I’m doing.”
“I got that impression,” she said, her tone neutral, which always meant her attitude wasn’t. “He always makes sure to drop by the Honeybee to pick up treats for you when he’s running errands in town.”
“See, he appreciates me.” I got up and turned away, focusing on getting my clothes folded. These questions were leading somewhere that I didn’t want to go. Not yet. Not when it was so new and unclear even to me.
“Listen, Ben,” she said, pushing ahead. “I’m glad things are going well. But…it’s just the two of you up there on your own. You know if you ever need anything, we’re right here? You don’t ever have to worry about coming home, okay? No questions asked.”
I looked at her. “Mom, I’m okay, I promise. Grady’s been a perfect gentleman. He’s a hard worker and a really good boss, and he’s trying to get the ranch put back together. I’m enjoying being there. I’m sorry I’m not around, but the only way I’m going to be able to go to school is if I make money this summer, and this job is making that possible.”
“I know, it’s just that, well, people talk.”
There it was. I knew there was something else going on.
I crossed my arms and frowned. “And what are these ‘people’ saying?”
She hesitated, but she couldn’t stop now that she’d started. “Honey, everyone knows that you’re gay, and they really don’t care. But they don’t know much about Grady. He’s not from here, you know? And his uncle was…peculiar. We…they’re just not sure it’s good to have you two up there alone like that. What if…?”
“What if what, Mom?” I was getting pissed now. “You don’t know anything about him. You think Grady’s going to do something to hurt me? Take advantage of me? Pass me around to his non-existent buddies? No, not even that extreme—maybe that he’d actually want to be around me? Would that be such a bad thing? Or is it okay to everyone that I’m gay so long as no one shows interest in me, as long as I’m alone and lonely like Doug was?”
She recoiled as if I’d slapped her. “Ben, that’s not fair, that’s not what I….”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to come home every summer and to have to slip back into everyone’s idea of sweet, sexless, unthreatening Ben who’s everyone’s buddy but no one’s special person? Do you know how hard it is that I don’t have anyone wonderful to bring home to meet you, or to listen to your embarrassing stories from when I was growing up, or for to you to share secret family recipes with, or for Dad and Mark to take hunting for his first big buck? Do you know how I have to leave half of myself back at college every summer because I’m trying so goddamn hard to not make everyone back here uncomfortable about the fact that I like to…be with guys? You have no idea.”
She wouldn’t look at me, so I kept going, years of frustration finally overflowing. “So yeah, if it feels nice to be around someone who treats me well and who’s happy for me to just be me, who doesn’t change the subject when I talk about why I find a particular guy cute, who doesn’t ask me to turn down the Indigo Girls or the B-52s when I’m doing the dishes and singing along, who doesn’t tune out when I talk about Ricky Martin or drag divas or Get Real or a thousand other things with a gay vibe that matter to me, who doesn’t constantly imply that I’m doing life wrong by not wanting kids or a girlfriend or that to be an ‘acceptable’ gay I have to be a celibate monk. Yeah, I think Grady’s amazing, and gorgeous, and kind. And if he somehow decided to think I’m amazing, too, what the hell would be wrong with that?”
Mom’s head was down. In a small, hurt voice she said, “I didn’t know you found it so hard to come home.”
I sighed in exasperation. “That’s your takeaway from all that? Mom, it’s not you. It’s everyone. It’s the whole fucking homophobic world.” She looked up with grief-filled eyes, but I knew the sadness wasn’t for herself. I’d never told her any of this before; I guess a part of me just thought she’d know it by motherly intuition. But she didn’t, and I’d never tried to tell her either.
My anger cooled as we stood there. She was wounded, but she didn’t walk away, and that was important. I took a deep breath. “I know you love me, Mom, I do. I know you all love me. And that means more to me than you can possibly imagine.” My voice started shaking. “But I don’t want to be loved in spite of being gay—I don’t want to just be tolerated. Being gay is a big part of me—it’s part of what you’ve got to love, too. I want you to treat me like you treat Mark. I want this whole fucking town to treat me like they’d treat Mark or any other straight person who’s grown up here and just trying to figure out who they are.”
I came and stood in front of her, willing her to look directly at me. “I’m not broken, Mom. I’m just different. Not in all ways, but in important ones. Living up there with Grady, working with him on the ranch, I’m not ‘gay Ben.’ I’m just Ben. My hard work makes a real difference. I can see it. We laugh, we joke around, we work our asses off. He treats me like an equal. And I like how that makes me feel. I shouldn’t have to feel guilty about wanting to have this experience, maybe for the only time in my life. Besides, I’m leaving for school in just over a month, and I don’t know what’s going to happen after that. He's really good to me. Just let me have this for now, no guilt, no shame. Please.”
Her lower lip quivered and she turned her head away, but she nodded. I hugged her. She resisted for a moment, then wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tightly. We stayed there for a long time, both of us sniffling, until at long last she patted my back and pulled away.
“Don’t give up on us, baby. We really are trying.”
I smiled through my tears. “I know you are, Mom. I’ll try harder too, okay? You can ask me any questions you want. It’s better that you ask than wonder and worry. And I’ll be honest with you, even if it’s awkward for us both. Deal?”
She gave me a sideways look and tentative smile. “Deal.” She took a tissue out of her pocked and blew her nose, then she straightened and was back to being all motherly business. “Hurry up and pack—you need to head up to the ranch before it gets too dark out. Grady was in yesterday and mentioned your birthday, so I think he’s got something waiting for you….”
“Mom!” I groaned. “Then why did you tell me? He obviously meant it to be a surprise!”
She clutched imagined pearls in mock outrage. “And here I thought you said you wanted to be treated like your brother! Well, son, welcome to the first lesson of Busybody Momma 101—your business is my business, and it’s my job to interfere on your behalf. He made an excellent choice…with a bit of help. Now get your shit together and get going before one of you loses interest.”
I was out the door five minutes later. An hour after that I was naked, sweating, and groaning on Grady’s bed, my knees up to my ears, his headboard smacking against the wall with every slippery thrust, the birthday candles in the vanilla buttercream Honeybee cake still unlit on the kitchen table.
Best. Birthday. Ever.
