Save A Horse

1 - Save a Horse

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - Big & Rich

Shota Aizawa had long since become accustomed to the insanity of the rodeo, so much so that he even found comfort in the rowdy crowds and choppy music crackling out of speakers. In any other setting, the overwhelming stench of beer and sweat accompanied by incessant visual stimulation of the flickering warm lights and moving people would be enough to turn the other direction and race home.

But here... those bright lights illuminated the bull and the rope tied tightly around the creatures hind legs so beautifully, everything faded away.

He didn't have to worry about the crops or livestock of the family farm. He didn't have to worry about his aging mother or looking over his nephews homework. It was only him and the bull.

The only thing he had to do was hold on.

It was his fourth competition since his injury, and unless the last two riders caused an upset, he'd finally be reclaiming his rightful place.

First.

"You had a good time," Shota's thoughts are abruptly interrupted, turning to the man who'd joined him along the gate, "Here, a celebratory drink."

He raises an eyebrow, but accepts the unopened can with a nod, "Thank you."

Aizawa honestly hadn't been with enough men to have a type. But whoever this is... well, he was at least more than curious.

"How long have you been riding for?" The blonde asks, extending his long arms over the metal rail.

"Professionally, bout six years. But I've been competing locally since I was a kid. You?" His stomach flits with butterflies, "Do you compete or just watch?"

His laugh is light, pretty. Or maybe it's just how the soft glow of the event illuminates his face, "I just moved to the area in December, started trick riding in my senior year of highschool. I'm on tomorrow."

The crowd screams as another rider and bull is announced, but all of Aizawa's attention is on his beer. Otherwise he's sure he'd just be gawking at the incredibly gorgeous man beside him, "So why'd you come today?"

The trick rider hums, "I guess you could say I was lonely."

His face flushing red, he takes three large gulps of the drink. Why not? Things were finally getting back on track, "I might be able to help with that."

"My names Hizashi."

"Shota."

"You sure you'll be able to handle me?" He leans closer as a few more spectators approach the fence, "I've got quite the stamina."

The man doesn't look drunk.

He's just that confident.

Unlike Aizawa. Though his words leave his mouth steady, the butterflies in his stomach make him tremble as he lifts his hand, his breath falling on Hizashi's ear as he whispers, "Try me."

The cowboy hadn't done anything like this before. At least not in his safe haven.

Any time he wanted a lay, he forced himself to dress up (black jeans and a fitted t-shirt was as fancy as he got) and go to the only gay club in the state, about three hours away. He'd tried dating apps, but very rarely did he meet up with anyone. He's far too busy with work and riding to entertain meaningless small talk, so this... Hizashi.

Proud and unashamed, seeking out what he wants. Aizawa would never have the balls to do that here.

"So, you wanna stick around or head back to my motel room?"