Jarheads 3.7 - Interlude Free Fiction – in honor of On the Sand's upcoming release, a Jarheads interlude. Rock was whistling. Fucking whistling. Who could fucking believe that? It wasn't surprising though. The business was doing well, he and Dick leaving more and more to the hired help. They'd convinced Rig to cut back some at the clinic. He was getting his blow jobs nice and regular, and lots of other good sex besides. And this was a fucking nice place to live. Nobody gave a fuck if you held hands or kissed your partner in public. Not that he flaunted it, but it was nice to know you could if you were so inclined. Holding hands wasn't his thing though. Dick ran up from where he'd been tossing the frisbee to the gang of mutts -- Rig seemed to keep bringing a new one home every couple of weeks -- and laughed at him. "Quit thinking so hard." "What?" "You stopped whistling -- means you started thinking. Don't -- you'll pollute the ocean with all that smoke." "Fuck off, asshole." "Only if you'll fuck off with me." "Fuck, you're worse than Rig sometimes." "I try." He rolled his eyes. His prick was interested though, knew a good thing when he saw it and the kid in nothing but a raggedy old pair of jeans, all bare foot and barechested and sweaty. well that was a good thing. "So what had the smoke coming out of your ears?" He shrugged. Dick poked. "Come on -- you were thinking hard about something. I'm not going to have to torture it out of you, am I?" "All right, all right, I'll tell you everything, just don't put on the country music radio. Please, I'm begging you, I'll tell you anything, just don't make me listen to one more twangy asshole in a hat." Just as he finished his sentence, Rig walked out of the back door, beers and sandwiches in his hands, old straw hat on his head, white eyebrows arching. "Y'all hungry?" Dick gave him a shit-eating grin, chuckling away before getting up to help Rig with the goodies. "You're not twangy," he informed Rig. For some reason that made Dick laugh all the harder. "No, Blue. I am also not an asshole. And I'm more than willing to compromise on the music." Those grey eyes twinkled over at him, warm and happy. "You going to sing for me?" "Depends what I get in return." He grinned back, cock more than interested now that he had the two of them out here with him. "And the food's all waitable, right?" "Just sammiches and chips and beer." Rig dra-a-a-a-a-a-awled it out, sprawling that long, tan body on the hammock, spread legs proving his Rabbit wasn't wearing more than a hat and cut offs. "Then it can wait. Fuck, Rig -- you're a bigger slut than ever." He got up out of his deck chair and stalked over to the hammock, eyes on the prize. One of those eyebrows arched, his own personal slut cowboy tugging his hat brim and his waistband down at the same time, hiding those laughing eyes and exposing a bare, black tattoo. "Me? Why I'm as pure as the driven snow." "You shaved!" crowed Dick Rock just grinned, keeping it cool. Slut. His slut. His and Dick's, he amended as the kid dove for those shorts, tugging them open and down. Rig didn't fight it, full prick bouncing against that flat belly, already full and wanting them. Dick moaned happily and dropped to his knees, all but drooling. Being a gentleman, Rock leaned over and grabbed the pillow out from behind Rig's head and tossing it onto the deck at the kid's knees. "All right, Rig -- you gonna prove your slut points here -- you bring lube out with you?" Rig's laugh was soft, pure sex. "In the pocket of my shorts, Rocketman." Those long thighs parted further. "Not that I'm not ready for my men." He raised an eyebrow. "You did not." Sliding a finger between Rig's ass cheeks he found out that Rig had indeed. "Oh, not just a slut, but the slut." "Mm-hmm. Yours." Rig tipped the hat up a little. "Gonna reward me?" "Fuck yeah." Dick nodded, or maybe the kid was just working that prick hard. He laughed and got one knee on the hammock, putting Rig's far leg up over his shoulder. "You want it hard and fast or fast and hard?" "Oh, I'm thinking hard and fast. Then fast and hard. We got time." Oh, his Rabbit was in a fine mood. "Whatever you say, Rig." Smiling down at his Rabbit, he pushed in while Dick's head was up, only the tip of that fine cock in the kid's mouth. Rigger stretched out, fingers tangling in the cords of the hammock, lips parted on a gasp. "Yeah." .