Sometime during the two hours the men hung out at the bar they’d switched from beer to whiskey, then to tequila. They had line danced, played pool, and thrown darts. They’d been forced away from the dart board as they were both so drunk the other patrons had feared for their safety as both men had thrown darts that had ended up in the wall several feet from their intended target.

They laughed and staggered across the room, arms around each other’s waists. Sitting across a table from each other, Trent signaled to a passing waitress.

She came over and said, “Time for some coffee, guys?”

“Hell, no,” Trent said, his speech showing the effects of the alcohol. “This ’ere fucker ... oh, ’scuse me, ma’am ... I never swear in front of a lady.”

Lex giggled.

“Shut the fuck up,” Trent admonished. “You’ll have to forgive my frien’ here. He’s drunk.”

Lex laughed again. Trent joined in.

“You were saying?” the waitress asked patiently.

“Anyway, my frien’ ’ere can still walk. And I gotta get him so blind smashed that he won’t be able to get on the fu ... er ... stupid horse tomorrow, let alone ride it. So bring us another round of Tequila Blanco!”

“Okay,” the barmaid said hesitantly. “But that’s the last one.”

“Fine, fine,” Trent slurred.

The two men sat there, smiling stupidly at each other. Lex felt warm and fuzzy inside. He looked with slightly blurred vision at the handsome man opposite him. He felt his cock begin to swell and harden. Yes, sir, Lex thought. He likes me. He’s had his hands all over me all night. I’m gonna get lucky for sure.

“Here ya are, guys,” the waitress said, returning with their drinks. “But this is the last round. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Trent slurred as the men sat up. He pulled out a wad of bills and threw them on the table.

“No! No let me,” Lex insisted, fumbling in his pocket for some money.

“No!” Trent said. “My treat.” He put his hand behind Lex’s head and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched.

A wave of pleasure passed through Lex’s body. “If you say so buddy.”

“I say so!” Trent said loudly.

The men pulled apart, picked up the shot glasses, saluted the waitress, and downed the tequila in one gulp. Then they got up, drunkenly staggered to the door, and walked out into the parking lot. Trent had his arm around Lex’s shoulder; Lex had an arm around Trent’s waist, his hand resting on the crest of Trent’s ass.

They walked across the lot singing a chorus of Ragtime Cowboy Joe off-key and at the top of their voices. When they got to Lex’s pick-up Trent spun the cowboy around and pushed him against the door of the cab, placing his hands on Lex’s shoulders.

“You’re my very bess frien’ in the whole, whole worl’,” Trent drawled, pulling Lex into a hug. Releasing him, Trent held him at arms length. “Well, damn it, Lex.” Trent’s eyes filled with tears. “I wan’ ya to win tomorrow. Yep, man, I really, really, really do cuz you’re the bess fuckin’ cowboy on the whole God damn fuckin’ circuit.”

“No, no, no,” Lex protested. “You’re way better ’n me. Way better. You win.”

“No, damn it. I said that I wan’ you to ...” Trent didn’t finish his sentence and just looked deeply into Lex’s eyes. “Did I ever tell you how much I love ya?”

Lex shook his head in surprise at the turn in the exchange.

“Well, I do!”

“I love ya, too,” Lex said, his heart beginning to race and his cock sitting up and taking notice. “I think I have for a long, long time.”

Suddenly, without thinking, his actions spurred on by his alcohol-clouded brain and his feelings for the man, Lex cupped Trent’s chin in both hands and pulled the man into a kiss.

Their lips met for a brief second. Lex felt Trent’s tongue brush his, then, just as suddenly, Trent threw Lex’s arms off, stumbled backward, and yelled, “What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’?”

Confused, both by the liquor he’d consumed and the abrupt change in Trent’s demeanor, Lex stammered, “Well, I ... I was ... ya just said ya loved me, I thought ...”

“You thought what? Fuck! That I wanted ya to kiss me! What the hell, Lex? You some sort a fuckin’ fag? Shit!” Trent wiped his mouth with his sleeve and spat at Lex’s feet.

Before Lex could collect his wits and respond, Trent turned on his heel and stormed off to his truck. As Lex stood feeling helpless and foolish, Trent roared out of the parking lot and into the night.

Lex slowly got in his truck. He sat for a long time just staring at the blinking sign over the bar. Duffy’s -- Drink -- Dance -- Dine it repeated over and over. Trent’s words echoed and repeated in Lex’s mind -- fuckin’ -- fag! -- fuckin’ -- fag!

After an indeterminable amount of time, Lex started the engine, put the F-150 in gear, and drove off.