A Gay Life

The Treehouse

Benjamin shut off the television and lay the controller down on the bed as he rolled to his back. He stared up at the ceiling with a sense of boredom. He knew it was ridiculous. It had only been two weeks since graduation from high school and only yesterday, he and his dad were in a field cultivating soybeans. Today was the first day he could lay around doing nothing. The first day the farm didn’t beckon with a task or homework sat piled on his desk waiting to be completed. The first day of the rest of his life and he smiled. No more school. But he still felt bored.

Reaching over to the nightstand, Benjamin picked up his cell phone to look at the time. Ten thirty-seven in the morning. A few touches of the screen and he had Marc’s number pulled up. His finger hovered over the call symbol, but he slid the screen away instead, knowing Marc would be busy with his chores on their family’s dairy farm. He considered calling Jackson or Paul or even Amy. They could ride up to Greenville and knock around, maybe grab lunch at the River Falls Café in downtown, or go out toward the interstate and hit one of the restaurants that served the motorists who stopped for gas or the night at one of the hotels. But it was a Thursday and Jackson was working at his job at the tractor dealership, Paul was leaving Friday to go on vacation with his parents to the Smoky Mountains and would be busy getting prepared, and Amy had started dating Jesse Simpson after he asked her to the Prom back in April, and asking her to do something would be inappropriate.

A noise came from the back of the house and Benjamin knew it was his mother in her sewing room, the small bedroom at the end of the hall. He heard the machine begin, the rhythmic sound of the needle moving up and down so fast he knew it would be a blur to her as she pushed the fabric underneath it. Rolling off the bed, he stood and stretched his arms out then upward. It felt good, this stretch of muscle, and he twisted his torso back and forth. He had been laying on the bed since eight o’clock and needed to move around.

In the kitchen, Benjamin filled a travel mug with tea from the frig and went out on the screen porch where he slipped his feet into his work boots, the leather scuffed and scratched and worn soft till the boots fit like gloves. He strolled across the yard, past his mom’s chicken coup, along the line of daylilies that created a border across the rear yard. Toward the house it was his mother’s domain and no tractors were to be driven across it. Toward the barns, it was the domain of his father, where tractors and implements could be driven across or parked. He cut through the stone paved gap in the lilies and headed across the grass yard toward the barns. He had no destination in mind, nothing planned to occupy his time. He strolled slowly, letting his mind jump from one thought to the next. The completion of graduation, last weekend hanging out with his friends, most of the night spent sitting on the tailgate of his old Dodge truck behind the Soda Shop drive-in watching other teenagers circle around as they cruised the town. He thought about his future, settling down in the community, farming with his father. He would eventually get his own place, already wondering if he could afford to buy the Hank’s place over on Cottonwood Lane. Marc was going to remain in the community too, the one son who wanted to continue the dairy operation. Jackson was leaving for the Marines in a couple of weeks and after that, who knew? Not even Jackson could say. Paul was leaving for Auburn University in the fall. He wanted to be a mechanical engineer. And Amy was going the community college in the fall, but they all knew she didn’t have her heart set on some major, some career goal, for what she really wanted was to get married and have a family, which surprised him at how traditional it sounded, knowing how she had rebelled against some of it in the past.

A family. The thought struck Benjamin as funny. He had considered it often, none more than when he had asked Zoey to the prom. The ritual of asking her, the preparations of renting a suit, buying a corsage and having photographs taken, at his home before heading out, at her home (the two of them standing before the fireplace), then at the prom standing under a fake trellis, the cardboard piece angled back looking ridiculous. He had to admit to himself he enjoyed the prom, hanging out with his friends, dancing with Zoey, then going to the bonfire at Madison’s place, where they sat around the towering pile of burning wood in the pasture till it was glowing embers and the sky was growing lighter as daybreak arrived. He had even kissed her goodnight. But he left things hanging between them and on Monday he confessed he wasn’t into her, not really, and didn’t want to lead her on, letting her think otherwise.

Benjamin remembered the look Marc gave him in fifth period English. Then there was the note Mark tossed on his desk right after the teacher had walked past them explaining the meaning of some poem from the 1800’s. Why did you call it off with Zoey? Why, indeed.

Benjamin ambled between the barn, the one on the left an old wooden structure over a hundred years old and the one on the right, all metal and steel, a prefabricated structure set on concrete. The contrast did not escape him as he moved back out into the morning light and down the lane that split the two fields at the back of the property. Rows of soybeans spread out on either side, the plants looking so small and tender, but he knew in a few weeks they would be waist high, or higher and filled out till none of the ground between them was visible.

The grass strip between the ruts and along each side was cut down, recently bush hogged, and Benjamin followed the right rut, one foot in front of the other, slowly making his way down the lane toward the woods at the back of the property. As it often did when he was alone, the question of a family circled around in his mind. He liked the idea of it but knew it was not to be. Not in any traditional sense. Even though his closest friends didn’t know his secret, it was one that didn’t make him feel ashamed or embarrassed. Why he didn’t tell them, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because he knew it would change things between them in some way. He’d be different, not really one of them. There were so many times when Marc and he were together the confession was there, ready to be spoken aloud. But hadn’t been able to do it. Marc had been the one that made him hold back. The friend who came from the most religious family, one that was so strict with Marc and his sisters. He knew Marc questioned some of it, made comments that seemed to provide the opportunity to come out to him, to admit to being gay. That he liked boys, not girls. But there were times Marc made some comment that indicated otherwise, and he feared losing the friendship, even though it kept him from living his own life.

All through grade school, ever since the seventh grade when he realized how he was different from the other boys, he kept saying he would be honest about it later. The next year would be more appropriate. He should have his driver’s license. He should have more freedom to go out on weekends. He should wait till after graduation, for none of the boys in his class seemed gay, not in any way, and he saw no need to admit being the one that was different. Not if there were no other boys that he could flirt with, ask out on dates, or go to that silly prom as the other boys were able with the opposite sex. He never felt alone during school. He saw other boys who were too shy to ask girls out, those that kept to themselves, and it was them he felt sorry, not himself. He assumed he would find a way to meet someone after graduation, when he felt more freedom to be himself. Searches online had shown he was not alone in the region. There were others out there. He just had to weed out those that were looking for hook ups, not interested in dating. Those that lived a straight life during the day, and only late at night pursued what they truly desired. He couldn’t go down that path, not the secrecy of it and the lies that had to be told, none worse than the ones they told themselves.

A song came to Benjamin, one that he had found online one night that was part of a discussion on the Atlanta Pride festival. He had been looking at photographs posted online, reading the discussions from those that attended and amongst the discussions there were songs posted. Songs that were upbeat, supportive or simply a positive outlook. There was one that stuck with him, and he played it often, usually late at night when laying in bed reading some book he had to hide from his mother. The tune surfaced in his memory and he began to whistle it. Even off key, he didn’t hold back, letting the tune surround him as he strolled into the shadows of the tree canopy along the back of their property. The rhythm of his walk changed, each step with more bounce in it.

When he came to the familiar spring, the narrow flow of water trickling over the sandy bottom, he fell silent and let the silence of the woods envelop him. But it wasn’t silent. Never was, not if you listened and he listened. Bird song echoed through the trees. A rustling of leaves in the slight breeze. And when he stooped to see a crawdad swim up the spring, he heard the water, the small trickling sound where it worked its way around and over rock. His breathing slowed, and the light seemed to soften around him. A few deep breaths and a contentment settled over him. It was something about the place, surrounded by the trees.

Benjamin followed the spring down the toward the stream that flowed in the bottom, the physical thing that lay along the imaginary line that separated their farm from the old Gibson place on the other side. Moving around the trees, at times walking along the spring to avoid poison ivy, the memory of the Gibson’s moving away three years ago came back to him. People online talked of farm life as idyllic. Some notion of living on the land and it being paradise. Benjamin knew better, for there were times it was hard. The land and weather betraying you, mishaps in the operation of farming taking someone at far too young an age and the long hours that were demanded. Farms didn’t hide much from you, from the beginning of life, with them being exposed to the birthing of animals, something Marc’s family’s dairy demonstrated, and there was severe injury or death as well. In the case of the Gibson’s it was the accident that had such an effect on him.

There had been another in his tight group of friends. Someone who Benjamin was closer than even Marc. James Gibson was their age and lived just across the stream. Although he looked younger than the others, being so short and skinny.  But he acted the most daring, the leader of their pact. And Benjamin realized afterward how much he truly loved James. The one boy he had felt such an attraction, even though he knew James would have never returned the affection.

It was never made clear what happened. All anyone knew for sure was James had been using the bush hog around their fishpond and on the dam, let the tractor roll over. The roll bar kept the tractor from crushing him, but he hit his head and lay in a coma for weeks. The Gibson put their farm up for sale and before anyone knew it, were gone. They moved to North Carolina, taking James to specialists at one of the hospitals tied to one of the universities. Everyone tried to stay in touch, but his grieving parents couldn’t handle it, this reminder of what was, and they lost contact. Last he heard James had woke from the coma and was in rehabilitation, but that had been nearly two years ago.

The land was on the market for a long time. The signs became faded and most assumed it wouldn’t sell until the Gibson’s agreed to split the fields from the house and barns. Some of the farmers wanted the fields but not the other. For Benjamin, all he wanted his friend back. It had been one of the worst times of his life. Those weeks after the accident then to hear the Gibson put the land up for sale and finally, finding the house empty, the Gibson’s gone.

Someone had bought the place last fall, and rumors floated around about what the buyer intended to do with the property. Some said it would be divided up into parcels. Others said the family was waiting till their children finished the current school year before moving to the property. Last week moving vans and vehicles were seen at the house and barns. A tractor-trailer rig arrived a couple of days later with two tractors. Someone was moving into the place and setting up to farm. Benjamin overheard his parents talking about the family, referring to them as the Gregory’s, and they were from Kentucky. There were two boys and someone at the school said Mrs. Gregory had applied for a teaching position in the middle school teaching math.

Benjamin was near the stream, could see sections of it through the trees and undergrowth when he came to the old treehouse Marc, James and he had built when they were twelve. It still surprised him how high they had managed to construct it, sitting out on the limbs of an old oak tree that dominated its area within the woods. A few boards were missing from the rungs nailed into the trunk and the small window they had installed in the side wall was broken out, probably by a falling limb during a storm. He looked up at the rough unpainted structure remembering all the days Marc, James and he had camped out in it. The times they imagined it a fort, or a space station or some hide for watching wild animals of the forests. They did see deer, turkey and once a feral hog, and at night they had seen racoons, opossums, and once, there had been an owl out on the limb from the treehouse that seemed to be studying them as much as they it.

Benjamin had not climbed up the treehouse in a long time and he reached up and pulled himself up the rungs, his long legs and arms allowing him to easily reach past the missing rungs. The hole through the floor was tighter than he remembered as he climbed up and sat the floor, the roof far too low for him to stand. He pushed the broken glass to the back side near the trunk of the tree and eased to the side that faced out toward the stream. The panel wobbled as he raised it, propping it open with the stick of wood mounted to it with a hinge. Sitting crossed legged, he stared out through the woods and down to the narrow stream below, its waters glittery where sunlight penetrated the canopy and striking its surface. Birds fluttered from tree to tree and the bark of a squirrel broke the calm for a few seconds.

How long Benjamin had sat staring out he didn’t know. The scene before him faded from the present to the past, six years before when three twelve-year boys had finally finished the treehouse and sat proudly where he now sat, imagining all sorts of wild untamed worlds. It was a movement down at the stream that brought him back. Leaning forward, arms resting on the rough board at the opening’s sill, he surveyed the area below, looking for the source. Rounding a clump of small trees wrapped up in vine, a lone figure slowly made it way up the bank of the stream. Jeans, a blue plaid shirt and a white ballcap pulled down low made it hard for him to get a look at the person, although he knew it as a male and they appeared to be young, with a lean build. He watched them come closer and he wondered whether, or not to call out, but he was too fascinated in watching them. He sat silent, trying to get the measure of the boy. It had to be one of the Gregory boys. He was torn with wanting to meet the boy and the feeling this was someone who came to replace his friend, something he was not ready to accept.

The boy walked toward the large oak but instead of going to his right where he would have seen the rungs that led up to the treehouse, he went left, arcing out, whacking at small trees and plants with a stick. Benjamin couldn’t tell much about the boy. Only his general build and the black hair visible around the cap. The boy moved up the slope till out of sight and Benjamin felt himself breath again, having held his breath at times afraid to make sound. He sat back, wondering how long it’d be before the boy realized he was on someone else’s property and returned. It wouldn’t take long to get up to the fields. Surely, the boy would turn around and head back to his side of the stream before long.

Benjamin leaned back on his elbows wondering how long it would be before his mother and some of the other women of the community made the effort to go by the Gregory’s, offering a cake or pie, and advice, wanted and unwanted. From his position only the tree canopies were visible through the openings and he watched the leaves rustle in the gently breeze.

Suddenly there were cries of surprise, a quick reaction, and the exclamations that found Benjamin laying across the floor holding tight to a boy’s arms, hands griped tightly to each one just above the elbows, afraid to let go. The boy struggled to get his footing on one of the rungs as he looked at Benjamin with wide-eyed shock. Benjamin relaxed his grip when the boy rose up, obvious he had his feet back on a rung.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me” said Benjamin still panting.

“I scared you?” the boy replied, breathing hard trying to catch his breath. “I had no idea someone was up here and…shit, I nearly fell.”

Benjamin saw how the boy was rattled with the realization he nearly fell the twelve feet or so to the ground. They stared at each other, neither sure what else to say. Benjamin let go of the boy’s arms and sat up, leaning back against one wall. The boy stood at the opening, not moving.

“Well, are you going to come on up?” asked Benjamin.

“If it’s okay” the boy replied, his eyes locked on Benjamin.

“Yeah, climb on in. I’m Benjamin, by the way. I live on this side of the stream.”

The boy climbed into the treehouse, scooting over to the opposite wall. Benjamin saw how the boy seemed to be even more cramped by the space, struggling with where to put his long legs, till he pulled them up wrapping his arms around them. Even in the dim light of the treehouse and the ball cap pulled low, he made out the dark brown eyes that were watching him. And the heart shaped face, with its strong nose and high cheeks and skin so fair it seemed to glow in the dim light.

“I’m Christopher but call me Chris.”

“Has your family got moved in?”

“Mostly. There are some boxes still in the utility room and the barn still has stacks of boxes mom wants put up in storage in the loft.”

Chris looked young, but how young Benjamin wasn’t sure. He knew how he appeared. Still a kid to some of the adults. He had tried to grow a goatee to look older, but it wouldn’t come in right and he shaved it off much to the delight of his mother.

“You still in school, or have you graduated?” Benjamin asked.

“I have one more year. You?”

“I just graduated.”

“Oh, so you’ll be going off to college or…”

“No, I’m going to farm with dad.”

“What is the school like?”

“It’s okay. Small. You’ll find out. Within a week you’ll know everyone.”

“Like back home” Chris replied looking out the opening between the two boys.

“You miss it?”

“My friends; yes. The school and place? I’m not sure.”

“You have a brother?”

“Mitchell; he’s two years younger.”

“He’ll be the same age as my sister. Rebecca. When she has one of her parties, I’ll tell her to invite him.”

“A party with girls? He’ll like that” Chris replied, smiling for the first time.

Would you like it? Benjamin wondered, then fought with himself not to consider it.

“This treehouse…is it yours?”

Benjamin laughed at how it must look. An eighteen-year old boy in a treehouse. “In a way, I guess so. Two friends and I built it when we were twelve. I’ve not been up in three years. Not sure why I climbed up today.”

“No doubt to scare the crap out of me” Chris replied, laughing with him. “I probably shouldn’t ask, but was one of them the Gibson boy?”

“James? Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I heard what happened. Is he okay now?”

“I’m not sure. I lost contact a few months after his family moved to North Carolina to get him to a specialist. I know he had come out of his coma and was…”

After a moment of silence, Benjamin unable to finish, Chris broke the silence, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Yes, I think so.”

Chris looked at his watch, then moved to the opening in the floor. “I have to go. Mom is going to be wondering where I wandered off to this time.”

Benjamin watched Chris scoot around and slip his long legs down the opening and stand up. Moving down the rungs till only his head was visible, Chris stopped and looked up at him. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, I’m sure” Benjamin replied as Chris nodded his head and eased down out of sight. Benjamin listened for any sound of his descent, finally hearing a grunt when Chris dropped down on the ground, then the shuffle of feet through the leaf matter as he moved toward the stream to cross back over. Moving around, Benjamin watched Chris walk down to the stream and just before circling around the clump of trees and vine out of sight, he turned, waved once, then moved out of sight.

He’s still in school. Just a kid. A skinny kid. Benjamin told himself, knowing the truth. That there was only one year between them, but he needed some excuse to make Chris unavailable, someone he couldn’t begin to imagine more than a friendship. For despite what he told himself, he knew what he felt when he looked at Chris. An attraction he had not felt in over three years.

Harper’s General Store

It had been three days since Benjamin met Chris down at the treehouse. Three days when he had lain in bed wondering about the boy, what he was really like, reflecting on their conversation and the sound of his voice. The accent that was different from his own and the way it sounded hoarse, smoky, and he wanted to hear it again. It was Sunday afternoon, and was stir crazy. He pulled on a t-shirt and slipped his feet into sandals, a pair he had bought in Pensacola when Marc and he went down to the beach. He headed to the family room where his parents were watching some movie.

“Dad?”

“Ben?”

“Can I drive the Jeep to town. It’s a nice day and…”

“Sure. Just be careful.”

Benjamin smiled, surprised his dad let him take the old Jeep without making him beg. It was a CJ7, a ’78 model they had spent the last couple of years rebuilding. He knew it was a project his dad had done for his benefit, to get his mind off James. And it had brought them closer together, so close there were times, when they were leaned over the fenders working on the old inline six or at the work bench rebuilding a wheel assembly, he started to confess he was gay. The words had been on the tip of his tongue so many times, but he couldn’t do it, not at the time.

Keys in hand, Benjamin went out to the barn where it was parked. It was blue, with white vinyl seats and a bikini top. No doors, so sides, so basic it was endearing. He climbed into the seat, fastened the seat belt and fired up the engine. It rumbled to life then fell into a gentle idle. He eased out of the barn, down the gravel drive and out onto Shelton Lane, the two-lane highway that ran in front of his home. He headed north passing pine on each side of the road, then past the Shelton home place, the old house long gone, only brick piers delineating where it sat. At the intersection, he turned left heading toward Greenville. He shifted through the three gears and settled down at forty miles an hour, working the steering wheel to keep the Jeep in his lane as it tried to move back and forth over the uneven surface. His dad wanted to take the Jeep to a guy up near Montgomery who raced at the dragstrip outside of the city. There was something they could do to the steering to make it stop hunting the line. Until then, you sawed the steering wheel back and forth to keep it straight.

Benjamin cruised around town, stopped at the shopping center near the interstate, browsing around, looking around more for friends from school than for any item sitting on a shelf. He cut back through downtown and saw local kids he recognized by face, but not name. Then he headed back south, heading out State Highway 45 that led home. He passed Tensaw Road, the road that went down to Marc’s home and dairy, tempted to turn, but knew it being Sunday, Marc’s parents were no doubt entertaining their preacher and his family, something he didn’t want to get caught up in. After a mile he passed Rutledge Village, the biggest trailer park in the area, one where two of his classmates lived and just pass it, the drive that disappeared into a stand of pine that led down to Amy’s house and he wondered if she would be home or out with her boyfriend.

As Benjamin approached the intersection with Onycha Road, a red signal flashing for him to stop, he decided to stop at the small store that sat close to the intersection. The front had enough room for two pumps and the side barely enough room to pull off Onycha Road. At the stop sign he glanced over and saw an unfamiliar Tahoe and two trucks he knew belonged to farmers in the area. He eased through the four-way stop and into the drive just past the pumps stopping next to the Tahoe. As he approached the store, he noticed for the first time how run down the place was getting. The sign over the canopy was peeling. Harper’s General Store had never look neat and pristine but suddenly he realized it was getting shabby. The glass storefront was dirty, and old signs that had been in the window for years were faded till nearly illegible. Stepping inside, the bell ringing on the door, he let his eyes adjust to the dark wood interior. There was a couple standing at the counter with two drinks before them. They looked his way, smiled, the husband giving him a slight nod. He headed to the drink coolers along the front wall and saw two boys at the last one.

“Come on boys, pick something and let’s go” the mother called out across the store. The boys turned toward her, and Benjamin saw it was Chris and his brother. They each took out a drink and headed to the counter. The younger boy, smiling mischievously, nodded at Benjamin as he passed. He looked a lot like Chris. Same lanky build, although not as tall, but the same black hair and brown eyes. Only his skin tone was darker, more like his dad than his mom. Chris walked up to him then stopped, eyes glancing at his parents then back at Benjamin.

“Hey Benjamin.”

“Chris. How’s it going?” Benjamin replied suddenly aware of Chris’s height. He was taller than his own five-eleven, a good three or four inches taller.

“Good. We’re just heading to the movies and…”

“Chris, come on honey; we’re going to be late.”

Chris blushed then gave Benjamin a weak smile. “I’ve got to go. See you around?”

“Sure” Benjamin replied as Chris moved past him. He went to the cooler with the soda he preferred and pulled the glass door open. Through its fogged-up surface, he looked over at the Gregory’s seeing the mother look back his way. He nodded, acknowledging her, and she did the same in return. Drink in hand he moved back to the counter, circling around behind the family, acutely aware of Chris’ eye’s following him.

“Your change and do you need these in a bag” asked Susan Harper, the sister of the owner.

“No, thank you. Boys: get your drinks and let’s go” Mrs. Gregory replied, grabbing up two of the drinks and leading everyone out.

“Hey Mrs. Harper” said Benjamin as he set his drink down, then looked out the front window at the Gregory’s as they piled into the Tahoe.

“A dollar fifty-four.”

“Here’s a dollar and…three quarters. Keep the change” Benjamin replied, grabbing up his drink and heading out hoping to get outside before they left. It was foolish, for nothing could come of it. He walked across the gravel drive toward the Jeep as the Tahoe pulled up the four-way stop. He didn’t notice the rear passenger window go down, or the head that leaned out looking back his way.

“HEY Benjamin? Is that your Jeep?” yelled Chris.

Looking up in time to see Chris leaning out the window as the Tahoe started forward, he yelled back. “It’s Dad’s.”  As the Tahoe sped away and the window raised back in place, he added in a low voice, “…and mine.”

A Party one Summer’s Night.

Benjamin came into the kitchen in his sock feet, his muddy boots left on the screen porch. After two days of rain, he had been at the back pond digging the mud and debris from one of the overflow pipes. Mud and detritus covered his pants and shirt, and streaks of mud were on each arm and across a cheek. He was heading to his room to get clean clothes so he could take a shower. As he came upon his sister sitting at the island, his mother on the other side leaned to look at what she was writing, and he angled over to see for himself.

“What are you doing?”

“Teresa and I are planning a summer cookout.”

“Oh, and will this cookout be at her house or here?”

“Here of course. We want a bonfire…which you’ll help us set up,” said Rebecca, looking from their mother to Benjamin.

“I will? Who said that?” Benjamin replied jokingly.

“Alright you two” their mother interjected as she stood and turned back to the cooktop to check dinner. “Clear it with your father first.”

“When is it?”

“This Saturday. The weather is supposed to be nice the rest of the week.”

“Can I invite Marc, Jackson, Paul…”

“Yes, of course. Whoever you want. Just let me know a number.”

“Okay, and sis?”

“Yeah?”

“The Gregory’s, who bought the Gibson place, they have two sons, the youngest is your age.”

“How do you know that?” their mother asked.

“I ran into the older son the other day. Chris is his name. His brother is Mitchell. You should invite them” said Benjamin looking back at his sister.

“I will. It’ll let us check him out” Rebecca replied, smiling at Benjamin, then over at her mother who was shaking her head. “How old is…the older one?”

“Chris will be a senior this fall” Benjamin replied, looking over his shoulder as he headed to the hall.

Saturday arrived hot and humid, but the skies were nearly cloudless, and the ground was dry after a couple of days of no rain.  The Back yard at the barns was packed with cars, trucks and SUVs. They lined the drive out to the road, and some were parked along the side of the barn. In the backyard of the house, the brick grill smoked with the smell of chicken, burgers and ears of corn cooking. A gas cooker that sounded almost like a blowtorch was cooking French fries, and three large coolers were filled with sodas and water. Behind the barn, in a small grass area that some implements were usually parked was cleared and grass cut down with the lawn mower instead of the bush hog. In the back of it, a ring of wooden benches and folding camp chairs sat around a pile of wood eight feet high.

Benjamin helped his dad at the grill while Amy and his mom laid out the table with beans, slaw and condiments. Marc was at the gas cooker, occasionally stirring the fries so they would cook evenly. Jackson and Jesse sat in camp chairs watching while they talked back and forth. Sitting on blankets scattered around the backyard was Rebecca and her friends. There was laughter and loud exclamations. To one side some the boys in her class were playing volleyball, the bravado much grander than anyone’s actual play. 

Benjamin kept looking at the drive wondering when Chris and Mitchell would arrive, knowing they were not going to show up till after 6:30. He glanced at his watch and saw it was a quarter till seven. Where are they? He wondered again.

“Benjamin, these burgers are done. Take them up and we can put more down,” said Travis, his father, and he began picking up the cooked patties and placing them on the platter his father held out. More burgers were placed on the grill and Travis took the tongs from him and began to turn the chicken.

“I got it; go hang out with your friends” said Travis and Benjamin saw his mom was relieving Marc at the gas cooker.

Marc sat next to Jackson. Amy was already between Jackson and Jesse, and Benjamin moved a camp chair in front of them and sat.

“Where’s Paul?” Jackson asked.

“He’s at Auburn getting some final preparations taken care of.”

“Must be nice” Amy replied.

A vehicle was coming down the drive, the sound of gravel crunching under its tires. Everyone looked over and saw a Tahoe pull in and turn around in the backyard. The passenger and driver’s door opened at the same time and the two Gregory boys stepped out. Mitchell wore a baseball jersey and cargo shorts, but it was what Chris wore that caught Benjamin’s attention. A white tank-top, cut low around the neck and arms and a pair of jeans that were faded and worn.

“Who’s that?” Jesse asked.

“The Gregory boys…from across the stream” Chris replied.

“They the ones who bought the Gibson place?” asked Jackson.

“Yep” said Chris as he stood to go met them halfway.

“The one in the tank top is tall” said Amy as Chris walked away.

“You guys finally made it?” said Benjamin meeting the two boys half way.

“Are we late?” Mitchell asked as he looked around at all the people hanging out.

“No, not a all. The food is not ready yet. Go get something to drink at the coolers and my sister…Rebecca!...is over there waving.”

“Great, thanks” Mitchell replied as he took off leaving Chris and Benjamin.

“He doesn’t seem shy” said Benjamin as he turned to Chris.

“Not in any way. He’ll be friends with everyone here within the hour” Chris replied.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the guys.” They were nearing the small group of Benjamin’s friends when he stopped and caught Chris’ attention. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry but we didn’t think to invite any of the seniors from your class.”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head, “don’t worry about it. At least I got out of house.

Introductions were made, the usual questions tossed at Chris and then the call for everyone to eat. The line moved and shrank and grew again until the kids got their fill. They lounged around on blankets spread out on the ground and hung out on the screen porch were music played through speakers hanging from under the eaves.

Benjamin led his friends, and Chris to the old barn, down past the tractor and grain truck, and up a wood stair, the steps steep, till they were sitting around the loft looking out over the rear where the wood was piled up for the bonfire.

“When will you light the fire?” Chris asked Benjamin as he scooted to the edge of the opening letting his legs dangle over the side.

“After it gets dark” Marc replied as he leaned against the side wall looking past Chris.

“So, Chris, how do you like living here?” Amy asked as she intertwined her fingers through Jesse’s.

“It’s okay. I mean…I don’t know anyone, so it has been kind of boring. I’ve been riding my bicycle a lot…”

“You have a bicycle” Benjamin asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to know…” Amy was asking when Benjamin interrupted her.

“Where have you been riding?”

Amy looked at Marc then Jesse, wondering what was up with Benjamin.

“I’ve rode up to Greenville for lunch one day and I’ve ridden south, down to Georgiana then…”

“I’ve got a bike” Benjamin cut in, then realizing how he must sound, blushed as he added, “I mean, if you’re bored riding by yourself, call me. I’d love to ride with you?”

“Really? That would be nice.”

Worried about how Amy, then Marc was looking at him, Benjamin turned to Marc then Jackson, “What about it, guys, you up to getting the bikes out and riding?”

“Depends on when you ride. The dairy takes up most of the week and Sunday…is out” Marc replied.

“I would but there is a lot to do in the next week, and they want me to get things at the shop set before I get shipped out” said Jackson.

“Well, I can ride” Benjamin said to Chris. Chris looked back out over the yard but before he turned Benjamin swore, he saw him smile.

The sun slowly slipped below the western horizon and the sky darkened from blue, to violet to black. The lights on the barn and in the backyard were turned on, illuminating circles within the space of the yard. Voices seemed to carry further. The laughter of girls, the bravado of boys flirting with them and the soft chatter of conversations all around the yard. Benjamin led his friends down from the loft and to the back, and from of the corner of his eye he could see Chris shadowing him, right there, at the edge of his vision. They took seats to one side while Marc and Jesse lit the wood. Flames caught slowly at first, rising along one stick of wood, then another. It found shafts within the stacked wood and like blood through veins, made it way through the entire body of wood. Smoke billowed out the top then flames quickly followed.

“Hey guys, the fire is going” a boy’s voice called out from between the barns and soon the circle of benches and chairs were filled, till some were sitting on the ground on blankets brought from the yard.

Rebecca came over to the group with a blanket followed by two of her friends. She spread it out next to where Jesse sat, and he soon slipped off the bench and joined them on the blanket. Marc and Jackson had run to get everyone another drink, returning with a cooler between them. After tossing a soda or water to everyone they moved to sit down. Benjamin stood up and slipped down next to Chris on the bench letting Jackson have his chair and Marc sat in the other chair between them.

The fire blazed brightly, its heat radiating outward and some scooted back further.

“This is nice” Chris uttered to no one in particular, and Benjamin looked around, nodding his head.

“Hey, Chris, your brother is a flirt” said Rebecca, pointing over to the other side where Mitchell was on a blanket with three girls, all them laughing at something he said.

“Yes…he is” Chris replied, then looked down as if embarrassed about it.

The fire burned, and the pile slowly shrank till it was less than half its original size. Conversations were less blusterous, lower in tone, intimate within the groups. Some of the kids began to leave, a few at a time. Marc was the first of Benjamin’s friends to leave and they knew not to ask why, for they knew he had to go to church in a few hours.

“Why did your folks move from Kentucky?” Benjamin asked Chris who was leaned over, elbows on knees watching the fire.

“Long story short; mom’s brother got control of everything when grandma died, including the land we were living on.”

“Seriously?”

Chris turned to Benjamin and nodded his head.

“Shit.”

“Yeah…shit.  Luckily dad had been saving money, for he assumed he would have to buy mom’s share, always saying Uncle Rob was a selfish bastard, but it seems land is more important to him than money.”

“So, you were forced to move.”

“Yep, and dad said he wasn’t staying anywhere near Uncle Rob. By chance, a friend of his from his military days told him about the Gibson place. It seems Mr. Bradley had looked at purchasing it himself before buying a small farm over in Georgia somewhere.”

“And you ended up here,” replied Benjamin. “Your folks okay…I mean, are they getting settled in?”

“It’s hard on mom, but yeah, I think so. Problem is they haven’t gotten out to meet anyone for they’ve been busy getting the farm started.”

“I’ve heard they are planting vegetable crops.”

“That’s right. Dad has some restaurants set to take whatever he produces. He’s part of some…club or something, and they make connections for each other.”

“You have to help much?”

“Right now, not much, but when crops start coming in, it’ll be different.”

Chris leaned back, stretching his legs out and Benjamin looked at the bare legs, with their light dusting of dark hairs along the calves.

“Benjamin?”

“Yeah?”

“Was you serious about riding bikes?”

“Yes” Benjamin responded looking around at Chris, nodding his head. “You want to ride late this afternoon.”

“This afternoon? Oh, yeah, it is Sunday isn’t it” Chris replied. “How about around three? I can ride over and we go from here?”

“I’ll see you then” Benjamin replied, turning his attention to the fire as the wood fell into a smaller pile. “It’s about time to call it a night.”

“I’m ready to call it a night too” said Chris as he stood up. “I’ll see you later?” he said to Benjamin.

“Yep.”

“Goodnight everyone; I’ve had fun” said Chris as he moved past them circling around toward his brother. Benjamin watched Mitchell stand up, dramatically bow to the girls and follow his brother. They moved between the two barns and disappeared in the dark shadows, but he continued to watch, wondering if he’d get one more glimpse.

Bike Rides

Benjamin pulled his bicycle out, aired up the tires and checked the chain and cables. He had not ridden in some time, having let the work on the farm and his own melancholy mood leave the bicycle sitting in the barn unused. He went inside and changed clothes, slipping on a pair of running shorts and a red tank top he had bought for P.E. Looking in the mirror he wondered about the person looking back. He saw the familiar reflection. Brown hair that acquired blonde streaks in summer, and in desperate need of a barber. Blue eyes with eyebrows he thought arced too much and a nose slightly too large. His beard was coming in and the sparse scattered nature of it along his jaw made him aware of still being a teenager. Flexing one arm the bicep bulged in a satisfying way making him forget for a moment. He’d put on weight in the last year, his body filling out, and he liked the way the shorts hung on his hips and the tank top fell loosely over his chest.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Benjamin uttered as he stepped back from the mirror. Chris was a kid, still in school. He knew there was only one year between them, less than between his parents, but he knew he was considered an adult and Chris was not. Something that made him anxious, especially when he thought of the way Chris’ mother had looked at him back in Harper’s General Store. It was like she knew his thoughts about her son.

Heading to the kitchen to fill water bottles he mumbled “it’s just a fucking bike ride.”

Chris rode up as Benjamin was slipping the two water bottles in the metal brackets on his bike. He looked up, smiling at Chris despite his anxieties.

“Hey; ready to ride?” asked Chris.

Benjamin tried not to do it, but he let his eyes survey the tall lanky boy before him. A tank top similar to his own; only it was white with a graphic for a bicycle company on front. But it looked so different. So much looser, as if Chris could snake out of it. When Chris leaned over, he saw the flat chest and the small nipples riding high on it. But the worst was the shorts Chris wore. Black biking shorts so tight nothing was hidden from view even with the dark color. The lean thighs, the round ass and the bulge of cock in front. It made Benjamin swallow hard and divert his eyes, fighting some primitive urge, a lust, to look one more time. Is he fucking with me? Benjamin wondered as he stepped over his bike.

“Where to?” asked Benjamin.

“You know the area better than I. Where do you want to ride?”

“Let’s go south. It’ll take us away from the major roads and far less traffic to have to deal with” Benjamin replied as he stood on the pedals and eased away, with Chris right behind him.

They rode along the narrow two-lane road, the tires softly humming over the rough surface. When a vehicle came upon them, Chris would fall back behind Benjamin, keeping to the right in single file. But most of the time, with no traffic around them, Chris rode along the side Benjamin, just to his right. For Benjamin, it was a torment.

Chris was in the corner of his vision, like a ghost, never in focus. The spinning front wheel, the long-fingered hands on the straight handlebar and just out of focus, to the far edge of his vision, the white tank top billowing around the lean body. He heard it more clearly. The hard exhales up long climbs, the controlled pace of breathing when on level ground and the two of them making time, and the occasional comment, some simple question. Did you see that donkey with that herd of cows? That was an odd name for a road. How fast can we go down to that bridge? What creek is it? Do you have a girlfriend?

After fifteen miles, the two of them sitting at a four-way stop, they turned up their water bottles trying to get rehydrated. The sun was brutally hot and there seemed to be no air movement. Off to the side of the road, hovering over the grass and weed filled ditch, were clouds of gnats.

“We can turn right, go about three miles then cut back north, or just turn around here and head back. But I warn you, it’ll add five or six miles to our ride if we turn right.”

“I’m good with it, and it’ll be different scenery” replied Chris as he wiped his arm across his forehead. Sweat was running down their faces and their tank tops were soaked.

“Okay, but I warned you” Benjamin replied smiling at Chris, feeling more himself than he had in a long time, even if there was an anxiety simmering beneath the surface. One he fought to contain as his eyes scanned the sweat soaked figure before him. The tank top was almost transparent across the front and the nipples clearly visible. But it was the shorts that rattled Benjamin the most, the outline of cock and how they seemed to cling tighter to him with the wet fabric. He turned away when Chris reached down and adjusted his cock. He heard a soft chuckle as he walked his bike forward to put Chris out of sight.

“You ready?”

“I’ve been ready” replied Chris.

The last five miles took every ounce of energy. The mountain bicycles were not geared for touring and the rate of pedaling required to keep up their pace eventually tired their legs to the point they were shaking.

“Fuck…you weren’t kidding” Chris exclaimed once they climbed up the last rise from a creek, leveling out, the southern end of Shelton Lane visible just ahead.

They slowed their pace on Shelton Lane, letting their bicycles wander back and forth in their lane. When they came upon Halls Mill Road that would take Chris over to Highway 45 and to his home, they stopped in the middle of the intersection.

“Thanks Benjamin.”

“Hey, don’t thank me. I really needed this” Benjamin replied as he looked down, kicking at the asphalt surface, trying to not let Chris see where his eyes landed, every time he looked at him.

“When can you ride again?”

“I have to do some maintenance on the tractors tomorrow and Tuesday I’m going with dad to this auction down in Atmore. How about Wednesday?”

“Wednesday sounds good. You want to head out in the morning or after lunch?”

“Come over around nine.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then, Benjamin” said Chris. Benjamin looked up and into Chris’ eyes, nodding his head. Chris pushed off and headed east on Halls Mill Road and Benjamin stood on the pedals to get going, heading north on Shelton Lane and to his home.

Fall arrived, although the temperatures remained warm till nearly Thanksgiving. Benjamin got through the harvest of soybeans and put a disk back on the fields to cut down the stalks and level them out. He helped his dad do some repair on the old barn and for a few days found himself at Marc’s place helping with cutting sorghum into silage. And all through the weeks, he found himself riding bicycles with Chris only a few more times.

Chris had homework, then chores on his family’s farm. The gathering of fall crops, going with his dad to markets and restaurants on weekends to make deliveries. Therefore, it was to commitments on both of their parts that the fall passed by. Thanksgiving arrived and Benjamin found himself in Mobile visiting relatives, having large dinners on Thursday, Friday and Saturday evenings.

Benjamin saw Chris only a few times in total. His mother sent a pie one weekend and just before Thanksgiving, there was two pounds of pecans. And there was a fundraiser for the volunteer fire department and one Friday night when he and his parents went to a football game at the high school. Chris has been in the stands, sitting with two other boys and a girl. He felt like it would be an intrusion to go up and speak but during the half time, waiting in line for a soda he had heard his name in that familiar voice. Chris had begged him to sit with them, but the stands were full in that section and Benjamin felt it would be some red flag for Chris’ mother, who was sitting nearby.

For the first two weeks they rode every three or four days, but the next week it was every other day and the next, they rode five days out of seven. Some days it was late in the day and they made a small loop around the community, only eight to ten miles. Other days it was thirty to forty miles, the two returning exhausted and covered in sweat. And on each ride, every single one, Benjamin struggled to watch the road, to hear the questions tossed his way, for his attention was divided, a part of it too focused on the physical body riding at his side.

The summer was coming to an end, Chris having to prepare to enter his senior year in a new school, one where he still knew no one his own age. For Benjamin it was getting close to the time for the harvest. The combine needed servicing, the header’s blades replaced that were dull or damaged. The last weekend before school started, they were to ride early on Saturday. They planned to ride into Greenville for breakfast, then head north to a small park with a lake and circle back, going eastward then south around Greenville and back home.

Benjamin came out of the bathroom, dressed in shorts and an athletic shirt ready to ride out when his phone rang.

“Hey Chris, what’s up?”

“Benjamin, I’m heading out, but I was wondering…they are doing some work here and the water is shut off and could be most of the day. Can I bring a change of clothes and clean up at your place when we get back?”

“Sure, yeah, bring a change of clothes and come on. I’m ready to ride and I’m also ready for breakfast.”

“I’m heading out now.”

The ride was as all the others before. They covered the miles, each ride a little easier than the one before. But they sweated profusely each time, the heat of summer stifling. Each breath would inhale the hot humid air. They went through one water bottle and was nearly finished with the second by the time they got back.

Benjamin told himself each ride would be easier than the last in other ways. But that wasn’t the case. They were worse. Chris seemed to be filling out more. Legs grew more muscular. Same for the arms. It wasn’t the development one would get from working in a gym, but it was from labors on a farm and the rides. And he noticed. He also noticed how there were times Chris was half-hard, his cock stretching out and he told himself it was normal, that he too got aroused at times for no real reason. But it didn’t help Chris caught him looking.

Benjamin led Chris into the house, circled through the kitchen for much needed water, then down the hall to his bedroom. The house had two bathrooms, but one was off his parent’s bedroom and he never used it, the small bathroom cramped with his mom and dad’s things. He tugged his shirt off, tossing the wet thing on the floor and sat at his desk.

“You go first. There are towels in the little closet and bath clothes on the shelf over the toilet.”

“Okay. Thanks Benjamin” replied Chris, lingering at the doorway. Benjamin told himself he imagined the look Chris gave him. It wasn’t the kind he wanted it to be, but when Chris headed down the hall, he exhaled a sigh, feeling frustrated.

“Hey…you forgot your…” Benjamin called out, then let his voice fade away, as he looked at the backpack on the floor, the one with a change of clothes for Chris. It meant Chris would have to come to his room to get dressed. He tugged on his crotch as he considered it. Then he ran his hand up his slick stomach and over his chest, feeling the firm smooth skin, aroused with how the exertions of riding and Chris always in his vision made him feel.

He heard the shower running, then shut off. There was a long silence before the bathroom door swung open.

FUCK! The word rattled through Benjamin’s mind when Chris walked through the door, towel loosely wrapped around his narrow waist. Below were long muscular legs. Above was the lean torso, with its flat stomach and chest, then the long neck and above that the smiling face with its arched eyebrow over the right eye. It was a questioning look that look pleased with itself. Benjamin jumped up, banged his knee on the corner of the desk and staggered past Chris, suddenly desperate to get away, afraid of losing his self-control.

When Benjamin came back into his room, wearing gym shorts, he saw Chris had on cargo shorts and a t-shirt missing the sleeves. It was stretched out and there was a hole in the chest, near the left nipple and his eyes focused on the hole as if they could see so much more. He stammered and moved around his room avoiding eye contact till he found a t-shirt to put on. Pulling it down into place he finally looked back at Chris.

“Hey, you want me to give you ride home?”

“No, I can just ride my bike,” replied Chris, and Benjamin couldn’t believe how innocent the voice sounded when there was such mischief in the eyes. “When can you ride again? School starts Monday and…”

“I can’t tomorrow, and we’ll be getting ready for the harvest. It might be a little while.”

“I know…mom and dad have a crop coming in soon then there will be a fall crop later and school…”

“Let’s play it by ear. Maybe someday after you get home from school or a Sunday afternoon?

The Passage of Time

School started, crops were harvested, the land tilled to lay through winter, and the days grew short. Day to day routines crowded out those free times that allowed for leisurely bike rides through the countryside, and before Benjamin knew it, Thanksgiving was upon him. His mother baked a pie for the Gregory’s, and he carried it over the Tuesday night before. The house was quiet, the only light coming from the back. He pressed the doorbell and its ring seemed too loud for the tranquil evening. Just as the ringing finally stopped, he saw the outline of someone coming to the door through the textured glass in the door. At first, he thought it could be Chris, but as the shadowed outlined came closer, he realized it was too short. Mitchell opened the door dressed in t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Hey, Benjamin, what’s up?”

“Mom sent this over.”

“Sweet,” Mitchell replied then yelled toward the back of the house, “Mom, Benjamin’s mom sent us a pie.”

“Well, let him come in” Mrs. Gregory’s voice called out.

“Oh, sorry” Mitchell said to Benjamin, standing to one side. “Come on back.”

Benjamin had not been in the front of the house, only in the family room and kitchen a few times before, and he scanned the two rooms, the living room on the left and the dining room on the right. He knew neither had been used by the family, the formality of both too pristine, to neat. Passing through a doorway, and past a stair landing, he found himself in the family room and kitchen. Mr. Gregory was in one armchair and Mrs. Gregory in another, where both had been reading, he a magazine and her a novel. Chris was sitting on the sofa and it was obvious so had Mitchell with the two game consoles lying on the coffee table and the television paused on some game. Chris stood and circled around the coffee table as Mitchell led him to the kitchen island.

“Hey, Benjamin” said Chris, crossing the room.

“Mom sent this” he replied, holding the pie out to Mitchell, who placed it on the island.

“What have you been up to?” asked Chris.

“Work. The harvest took longer than expected…that rain the first of October made a mess of things. Since then we’ve been doing maintenance and…geez, I don’t know what all dad and I have been doing. I can’t believe it’s Thanksgiving this week. What about you?”

“Same…the harvest and deliveries and homework.”

“You want to try to ride this weekend?”

“He can’t; we’re going to grandma’s up in Lexington for the weekend” said Mitchell, cutting in.

“Oh, well, maybe when you get back” replied Benjamin.

“Yeah, maybe…” said Chris, letting his voice trail off, and Benjamin sensed there was something else he wanted to ask.

“I hope you enjoy the pie. I should go. Mom will have dinner on the table by the time I get back.”

“I’ll walk you to the door” said Chris, then turning to Mitchell, “go switch the game to something else, will you?”

Benjamin walked back through the house, the dark front rooms on either side of the illuminated foyer. He pulled the door open and stepped out on the porch as Chris moved into the door frame, pulling the door close behind him.

“Benjamin, riding is difficult this time of year. Would you like to go to a movie or maybe come over and play video games?”

Benjamin hesitated, torn between wanting to spend time with Chris, any time afforded them and his anxiety about his feeling toward him, and the nagging notion Mrs. Gregory knew. It scared him. The way she had looked at him when he came in. But not enough to say no.

“Yeah, that’ll be fun. Call me when you get back and have time.”

“Okay.”

“Well, I need to go” Benjamin replied, crossing the porch and descending the steps. “I’ll see ya when you get back.”

“Sounds good” Chris replied. He stood in the door and watched Benjamin climb into the old Dodge truck, start the engine then pull around the drive and back onto the road. Once the truck was out of sight, he closed the door slowly, turned the latch and flipped off the porch light.

Two weeks into December, the day wet and cold, with a drizzling rain settling in, Benjamin and Rebecca were watching television while their parents were stirring around in the kitchen. His cell phone rang, and he grabbed it up, seeing it was Chris.

“Hey man, what’s up?” he answered, trying to keep his voice neutral, calm, avoiding letting anyone hear how excited he was to finally hear from Chris.

“Not much. The weather has us inside.”

“Same here. Rebecca and I are watching some old movie.”

“I’m calling to see if you wanted to go to Montgomery to the mall and knock around. Mom said Mitchell and I could go, and I was wondering if Rebecca and you wanted to go with us.”

“Just a minute” Benjamin replied. He turned to Rebecca. “You want to go to Montgomery and knock around at the mall? Maybe do a movie later. Chris and Mitchell are going?”

“If it’s okay with mom and dad?”

“Go…get out of here” their dad replied from the kitchen.

“We’re in” Benjamin told Chris, “when are you leaving?”

“In about thirty minutes. We’ll come by and pick you up.”

They drove up the interstate to Montgomery and out to the east side of the city to the mall on 231. With Rebecca and Mitchell around, it made Benjamin feel more relaxed. But time and time again he wished Chris and he were alone. That this was more than just an excursion into the city to kill time. They strolled through the mall, running into a couple classmates, and browsed the stores until they found themselves in the food court. Mitchell and Rebecca dominated the conversation while Benjamin and Chris sat opposite each other listening, at times rolling their eyes at something said.

After dinner, they drove down to the cinema. A movie selected, tickets in hand they sat in the middle of the theater, Mitchell, Rebecca, Chris then Benjamin. Waiting for the movie to begin they whispered amongst themselves while passing popcorn and candy back and forth. The lights dimmed, the curtain pulled back and previews began. They sat through six previews, making judgments on which movies they wanted to see. The lights dimmed some more till the room was dark, the curtain pulled back further and the movie began.

All through the two-hour movie, Benjamin struggled to keep space between Chris and himself. The silly nature of bumping elbows on the shared armrest embarrassed him, and he wondered if Mitchell or Rebecca noticed. He shifted in his seat, angling his legs away from Chris, whose legs seemed to fill the narrow space between their seats and those in front. By the time the movie was over and the four of them back in the parking lot Benjamin felt anxious, knowing he was stammering to answer questions and struggling not to look at Chris for too long.

“Benjamin, do you remember how to get back to the interstate?” asked Chris as they approached the Tahoe, the lights coming on with the unlocking of the doors.

“Yeah, it’s easy. 85 is just to the north and…”

“Will you drive?”

“Sure” Benjamin replied, catching the keys tossed toward him.

North up Taylor then swinging around the cloverleaf to get on the interstate, they were soon heading back toward downtown. Following the interstate, they soon were curving around the ramp to merge on 65, heading south toward Greenville. They rode in silence, everyone tired from their day’s excursion. As the lights for the interstate ended and they left the city behind them, the interior became darker and one by one, Benjamin noticed the others were falling asleep.

The miles slipped by as he drove down the quiet interstate, keeping his eyes focused on the road, except for the occasional glance over to the sleeping form next to him. Chris had the seat pushed back and reclined enough he could stretch out his tall frame as much as possible. A long arm rested on the console and Benjamin felt tempted to lay his own against it. What would Chris do if I took his hand? The thought lingered far too long and he put both hands on the wheel.

Benjamin pulled around his home and parked in the edge of the light coming from the flood lights. He nudged Chris till he saw him stir awake.

“Hey, we’re back. You okay to drive home?”

“Yeah” Chris replied, stretching as much as he could within the confines of the Tahoe.

“Hey Rebecca, wake up. We’re home.”

Benjamin stood by the Tahoe with Chris behind the wheel and Mitchell asleep in the back. He leaned on the sill, looking over his shoulder watching Rebecca unlock the door and slip inside. He looked at Mitchell in the back then at Chris.

“Thanks for inviting us. It was nice to get out of the house.”

“Can we do it again one day soon? Maybe just the two of us?”

“Yeah…sure…that would be good” Benjamin stammered, the directness of Chris’ request throwing him at first.

But it would be after the first of the new year before they saw each other again. Benjamin and his family spent the holidays with family in Mobile, then a few days of vacation in New Orleans. The Gregory family went back to Kentucky to spend the holidays with Mr. Gregory’s parents. So, the boys only had text messages and social media keeping them in contact.

Benjamin found the holidays lonely, more so than in the past. He was out of school, working toward having his own life, a place of his own, and hopefully, one day in the future someone to share it with. He had his plans writing down in a notebook that he hid in his desk. The working with his dad, saving up for a down payment on the Hanks’ place, if no one bought it beforehand. On Christmas morning, gathered around his grandparent’s living room with open gifts spread out around everyone, his parents held out one more gift. It was a shirt size boxed, wrapped as the others, but Benjamin felt the difference in its weight, heavier than the ones that had shirts or underwear in them. He tore into the colored paper and slipped the lid off the box. At first, he didn’t understand what he was looking at, but as he lifted the documents out of the box, he realized what he was holding. It was a deed to property, the address evident on front: 3650 Cottonwood Lane. He knew it was the Hank’s place, the property he had discussed buying with his parents, taking the house place as his own. His hand shook as he took in what he held. It was the start of his future. Looking up, he saw his father, then mother smiling at him.

“Son, we were worried the Hanks would sell before you were ready to buy, so we went ahead and got it. Sometime after the first we can go to the attorney and get the property put in your name, but now you can really plan on what you want to do.”

“Thanks dad…mom. I don’t know…”

“We know. Remember, my father helped us get started and Travis’ parents helped us with the loan for the house” said his mother.

“Now you need to figure out what to do with that house. It needs some work.”

“That kitchen is in bad shape and you need to replace the tub in the bathroom and…”

His mother slowed to a stop, then the two of them laughed at how they were making suggestions for the renovation.

It was the second week in January before Benjamin and Chris could get together. The rode into town for a burger then cruised around town till it was near Chris’ curfew. They talked about school, the farms and Benjamin’s plans now that he had the Hanks’ property. There were vague references to futures, circling around any hard commitments, Benjamin unsure what to say and Chris falling silent for long stretches of time.

There were late afternoons with Chris laying across his bed and he in his chair playing video games or sitting in the family room at one house or the other watching television or a far too short evening in town hanging out and having dinner. On some Sunday afternoons, Chris would show up at the Hanks’ place finding him measuring a room or down in the crawlspace or just standing in a room imagining how it could look.

So, the days passed, then weeks, till finally April arrived, and with it an early spring. The grass turned the muddy brown grounds bright green and the trees began to bud. Birds fluttered from tree to tree or hopped along the ground, as their songs filled the air. For Benjamin, the passage of time during the winter had been glacial. He kept busy on the farm and making his plans for the house, running budget numbers for material and appliances, including a new air conditioning system. The numbers scared him, totals that exceeded what his parents had spent building from the ground up. When Chris would show up on his bicycle, there was a realization of how he wished for more. But there seemed to be a truce between them, an acceptance of the limited time they could have together.

Chris walked through the house as if it were something not to be trusted. A place that would take Benjamin away, setting him on a course of a new life. He asked less questions and didn’t suggest getting together as often. Benjamin wondered if Chris was finding his own way, making new friends at school, friends his own age. He wondered if there was someone in his life. The idea of it made his stomach knot up, leaving him feeling alone.

Happy Birthday

One Sunday afternoon, Benjamin was in the house measuring the room that had been the dining room, wondering if making it the new kitchen would work better. He was pulling a tape measure along the exterior wall, measuring from the corner to the window, when he saw a bicycle pass. It had been moving rapidly and he only got a glimpse of it before it disappeared around the corner of the house, but he knew it was Chris. He listened out for footsteps across the back porch as he measured the width of the window, then from it to the other corner.

“Benjamin?” Chris’ voice rang out as the back door squeaked open.

“In here.”

Chris stepped into the room, eyes scanning the space then focusing on Benjamin who stood watching him. He wore a long sleeve pull-over and cargo shorts. His cheeks were red for it was a cool day and he was rubbing his hands together to get them warm.

“Hey, I was…what are you doing?” asked Chris.

“Measuring the room. I think I’m going to move the kitchen into this room and make the kitchen a laundry and mudroom.”

“Oh” Chris replied as he moved to the doorway to the existing kitchen with its old painted cabinets, some with doors missing. “You’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“I’m going to gut out the kitchen and the bathrooms one way or the other. They have been patched together over the years. What was you going to ask?”

“You know my birthday is in two weeks?”

“Yes” Benjamin replied smiling, considering how Chris will finally be eighteen. It was something he dwelt on far too much. The day Chris was be considered an adult, but the way Mrs. Gregory looked at him always made it seem as it would not matter.

“I’m having a party. Nothing major. Mitchell is going to invite a few over too. I think Rebecca is one of them. You’re going to come right?”

“Am I invited?”

“Of, course…don’t be silly” Chris replied, looking through the other doorway down a short hall. “What about the bedrooms?”, pointing down it.

“I’m not going to rearrange them. I want to expand the bath but not sure how to do it yet.”

“When are you going to get started?”

“Once it dries out, we’re going to plant soybeans and there is a field of wheat to cut, so I’m going to be busy for the next month, but I hope to have something I can get a permit and be ready to start when the crops are in.”

“You want some help?” The question was mumbled, Chris not even looking Benjamin’s way.

“Are you offering?”

Chris turned to face Benjamin, nodding his head.

“Maybe, but let’s see how busy you are with graduation and…your summer.”

“My summer?” Chris repeated, laughing. Then he fell quiet as he stepped down the short hall looking into each room. When he came back, one finger raking along the wall, he stopped in front of Benjamin. “You’ll come to my party, won’t you? We haven’t been able to do anything in some time and I…”

“And you what?”

“I miss hanging out with you…that’s all.”

“When is it exactly?”

“Saturday week, 3 o’clock.”

“Saturday week at 3 o’clock; got it.”

“Well, I should go. We’re going to someone’s house for dinner and mom threatened me if I was late getting back.”

Benjamin went into what would be his bedroom and watched Chris climb on his bike and ride away. Moving to the other window, he watched him pedal to the highway and head down the road. He watched him grow smaller and smaller until he was unable to see him, then he went back to the dining room to finish his measuring. He had to do some two or three times before getting them right, for his thoughts centered on the approaching birthday party.

During the following days Benjamin fret over a gift. One idea didn’t seem enough, another too much. He went to Montgomery to the mall the next Saturday, roaming from shop to shop. He considered video games but realized he had no idea what Mitchell and Chris had in their collection. Browsing the cologne counter there was the problem he had no idea which Chris wore, nor what he would like. He left the mall empty handed, berating himself for overthinking it.

He rode down to one of the other retail centers, one off 85 just to the west, and found a sporting goods store. Walking to the building, images of Chris on his bicycle came to him. Leaned over, legs pumping up some hill. Standing at an intersection waiting on traffic to pass. At the end of a ride, sweaty and exhausted, a tank top or shirt clinging to the lean torso.

Strolling around the aisles, he browsed the bicycle section, knowing there was nothing there Chris needed. Circling around, he passed through the bike clothing and a fixture of jerseys caught his eye. He knew the size of clothing Chris wore, having seen the tag when he had picked up items laid out to wear one day last summer. A medium for the shirt and 31-inch waist. Flipping through the medium jerseys he passed the bright blue, orange and red jerseys till he came to the yellow and white jerseys. He pulled the white from the fixture knowing it would look best on Chris. Then he found a pair of shorts, a baggy mountain bike style, unable to bring himself to look at the skintight ones, as much as he wanted to see Chris in them. It was the thought of Mrs. Gregory seeing them when Chris opened his gift that stopped him from considering them.

With a pair of black shorts and the white jersey in hand, Benjamin made his way to the checkout. A quick stop at the drug store on the corner for a card (which he spent far too much time searching for) and a gift bag, he headed back home, satisfied he had an appropriate gift.

The next Saturday Benjamin showed up right at three o’clock, with his sister riding with him. They walked along the drive to the back yard, it lined with cars and trucks and SUVs. Music was playing and voices of others laughing and calling out to each other echoed around the house. Mitchell and two girls ran to meet Rebecca, Mitchell giving Benjamin a smile and nod.

“Chris has been wondering when you’ll show up. He’s at the picnic tables” said Mitchell, and Benjamin caught the tone. Some sense of knowing that made him uncomfortable.

“Thanks” Benjamin replied as he watched them jog away, heading toward a group on the back porch. The picnic tables were sitting under an oak. Chris was at one of them with others each side and opposite. They were talking animatedly, with Chris smiling, looking happier than he had in some time. Benjamin walked across the yard and when about twenty feet away, Chris spotted him, smiling more broadly.

“You made it” Chris exclaimed, climbing over the bench. They met at the end of the table and Benjamin recognized the others sitting at the table. Jason, who he had played baseball last year, Cynthia and Susan next to him, and on the other side sitting on either side of where Chris had been sitting was Bryce and Pete, both farm boys like himself.

“Hey, Ben” Bryce and Jason stated at the same time.

“Hey, guys,” Benjamin said to them, then turned to Chris holding out the gift bag. “This is for you. I hope you like it.”

“Thanks, Benjamin.”

Chris pulled the tissue paper from the bag then the jersey and shorts. He held up the jersey first, then the shorts, getting comments from the table. “So, does this mean we’re riding more than we have been?” Chris asked, the tone hopeful, and Benjamin noticed the look he got from Pete and the two girls.

“I hope so” Benjamin replied, trying not to blush.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the drinks are located. Dad is going to fire up the grills in about an hour.”

“Sounds good” Benjamin replied as he followed Chris to the back porch where two coolers were sitting.

The afternoon passed slowly, with Chris and Mitchell’s classmates playing games of volleyball, horseshoes and a tag football game. Cellphones were used till batteries ran low, and the smoke from two grills rose into the cloudless blue sky. Benjamin found himself always at Chris’ side, even when he tried to back off letting others move in next to him. It was so obvious to him how Chris was keeping him close by, and from the looks by Pete, Cynthia and Susan, it was obvious to them too. Even more troubling, was the way he kept finding Mrs. Gregory watching him.

“Okay, kids, come and get it” Mr. Gregory called out and everyone lined up along the picnic tables preparing a burger or hot dog. Everyone found a place to sit, huddled up in small groups. Benjamin finished before the others, everyone too busy talking and checking their cell phones, and carried his paper plate to the garbage and went up on the porch for another drink.

“Benjamin, could you help me carry this in” Mrs. Gregory asked, pointing at a tray with tongs on it. She held another platter with one hand and the door open with the other.

“Sure, I would be glad to help.”

He followed her into the kitchen area, placing the platter next to the sink. When he turned Mrs. Gregory was leaned against the island looking at him in a way that made him swallow hard.

“Benjamin, can we talk a minute?”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know if you know how hard the move last year was for Christopher. Mitchell, he was…” and she laughed softly, “well, Mitchell always seems to land on his feet. But Christopher…he…”

“Is everything okay?” Benjamin asked after a pause that went on far too long. He worried that there was something about Chris he didn’t know.

“OH, yes. He’s fine. Last summer he seemed to finally put the move behind him. I know he left friends behind, especially this one boy that was important to him, even if he wouldn’t discuss it.” She moved to the frig and took out a soda, offering it to Benjamin.

“No thanks” he replied, holding up the one he just retrieved from the cooler.

Oh, yes, sorry” she replied, twisting the top off and taking a drink, then closing the frig. She leaned against the island again. “I know my son. I know there are things he hasn’t been able to tell me, and I’ve often thought…” she stops, taking another drink. “What if I’m wrong. I don’t really know…he’s just a boy and…I have three sisters and now I found myself surrounded by two boys. And they’re so different, and sometimes I feel like I’m not doing something right.”

“I don’t think Chris thinks that” Benjamin interjected, causing her to look at him and smile.

“No, I’m sure he doesn’t” she replied. She didn’t say anything for so long, Benjamin started to excuse himself, but she began to speak again. Her voice was lower, softer. “I want the best for my sons. I want them to be happy. I want Chris to be happy, even if it is not like his father and I imagined. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Benjamin swallowed hard and for a few seconds he couldn’t look at Mrs. Gregory, but when he brought his eyes back to her a smile greeted him. “I think so” he admitted.

“He likes you, Benjamin. More than you probably realize. I don’t know what, if anything, he has said. I know it must be difficult, the way Chris was still in school and here you are trying to get established on your own. Chris has told us all about you buying a house and making plans to renovate. It sounds exciting.”

“Thanks.”

“But today my little boy is eighteen. Eighteen? How did he grow up so fast? But there is a certain conceit on my part, isn’t it? To remember what we were like at eighteen and expect our own children to be different.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

“I know. Neither do I. But Benjamin, I want you to know I’m not going to stand in the way of my son in finding his own way. He should be allowed to find his own happiness. I shouldn’t tell you this, but then again maybe you should know. I ran into your mother at the grocery store last week. I would never have said anything about what I have been thinking. I don’t know if I would have been able, but she brought it up, concerned about Chris…and you. She was worried something has happened, or will, and how Walter and I would react. She felt that you two could work out whatever was going on, but it was us she worried about; how we’d react.”

“What?”

She smiled, stepped over to where he stood, putting a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, trust me. We mothers know more than we let on.”

“What if…”

“What if Chris comes to you wanting more than mere friendship? That Benjamin, is up to you, isn’t it?”

“I always thought you were…”

“Disapproving? Maybe at first. Now I’m just concerned for my son’s happiness” she replied. She looked over Benjamin’s shoulder out the window. “I think it is time to take the cake out to the birthday boy” she said, smiling softly, and Benjamin saw the vivid blue of her eyes, and how wet they looked as they cut away.

“You want me to take the cake out?” Benjamin asked, suddenly feeling like they had to get back outside.

“That would be nice. I’ll get some matches.”

The cake was gone, eighteen burnt down candles piled next to the platter. At the side of the back yard away from the barns and house, everyone was sitting around a bonfire. There were muffled voices, laughs or exclamations, and the occasional squeal by one of the girls as she ran from one boy or another. In the background was the white noise of wood burning. The hiss of steam from green wood, the pop and crackle as fire consumed one limb or another, and the fall of burnt wood as the pile of wood burned to ash. Off to the side, slightly separated from the rest sat Benjamin and Chris. The sat close, talking amongst themselves.

“We should talk” said Benjamin when he thought no one could hear.

“Talk? Is there something wrong? I mean…”

“No, no, no. It’s not like that, but…can you ride tomorrow? Go for a bike ride? Maybe we can head out before lunch and grab something in town, then…can you go?”

“Yes. I was going to ask you before you left. You want me to come over around eleven?”

“That works. I’ll see you in the morning” Benjamin replied, then looked up to see Mrs. Gregory watching them. He couldn’t stop himself. He smiled, nodding his head to show everything would be fine if he had anything to do with it. “Chris, it’s late so I should go. Rebecca?  You ready?”

Rebecca waved and stood ready to leave. When Benjamin stood, Chris did as well, casting him into shadow.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday.”

It is Time

Chris rode up wearing the new jersey and shorts right before eleven. Benjamin came down the steps, and set his bike down, slipped on his helmet and straddled his bike.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

They rode to town and went to River Falls Cafe. Sitting at the window, they watched the activity of the town for a Sunday morning. Traffic was light, and only the cafe was open. Benjamin felt more relaxed, as if a weight had been removed, and it was obvious to him why. The conversation with Mrs. Gregory came back to him, as it had all night. The insinuation was clear. He openly watched Chris as he talked, one hand moving with emphasis at some main point, or as he ate or when looking out the window then back at him. Chris would smile or shake his head wanting to know what he was thinking.

Back on the road, riding to the south away from the town and its more congested streets, they eventually found themselves on the narrow rural roads. Riding side by side, with the sun beating down on them. They kept a casual pace. Legs moved at a regular rhythm, knees going up and down.

“What did you get yesterday?”

“Mom and dad gave me clothes and money, then there were gift cards, a couple of books and this” Chris replied, tugging at his jersey as he looked over.

“You’re welcome, and…it looks good on you” said Benjamin, turning back to the road unable to look at Chris smiling back at him.

They rode for a coupe of hours, cutting across the region on one road or another. They were feeling the exertion in their legs and the heat of the day was making them sweat profusely and drink heavily from the water bottles.

“Let’s head back” said Benjamin, as they stopped for a minute at an intersection, nothing around them but fields on three corners and a stand of pine on the other.

“Okay. How far do you think we are from your place?”

“Ten miles, maybe eleven.”

“So, not too far.”

“No, we should be back in about an hour, depending on how fast we ride it.”

“We’ll I’m not in a hurry.”

“Neither am I. You ready?,” replied Benjamin as he slipped the water bottle into its bracket.

They rode north, along the familiar road till the intersection of Halls Mill Road was before them, where Chris would need to turn to go to his home. Benjamin pulled up to the four-way stop and stopped.

“Hey, you want to walk down to the pond and cool down before heading back? We can walk by it then go up to the house and get something to drink that is cold.”

“Yes, we can do that” Chris responded.

“We’ll ride up to that gate then cut down the lane to the pond. It’s down near the woods at the back of the property.”

“I didn’t even know you had a pond.”

“The slope across the field hides it from view. Let’s go.”

They rode slowly up Shelton Lane to the drive. Benjamin had to unlock the gate and Chris rolled their bikes through, letting him shut and lock the gate behind them. They rode down the rough lane that split the field. It was level for about a tenth of a mile then gradually began to slope down toward the woods beyond. The grade grew steeper as they rode, until they came up a terrace that arced out into the edge of the field and beyond it, down below, the pond. They pushed their bikes across the terrace and down the slope through grass that came up above their ankles.

“Watch for snakes.”

“Any fish in the pond?”

“Yes, but the conditions have to be perfect to get them to bite. It’s too muddy now.”

Walking along the bank they came to the pier that extended out over the pond about thirty feet. Bikes laid down, they ambled out onto it. The weathered boards creaked with their weight, some rocking loosely where the nails were working out. Benjamin followed Chris, watching how he looked down into the muddy waters, then out over the pond. Chris sat on the end and Benjamin eased down next to him, the narrow pier forcing them to sit close.

“I could just sit here like this for forever” whispered Chris as if he wasn’t sure he wanted Benjamin to hear him.

“Me too.”

A heron flew down to the far end and began to wade the perimeter. Crows flew into a large oak at the edge of the woods and their loud caws rang out over the pond.

“You wanted to talk to me about something. You want to tell me what?” asked Chris.

Benjamin took a breath, still struggling on how to start the conversation.

“I have to ask something first. I have to know for sure, no doubts.”

“Okay.”

“Chris…are you gay?”

Chris laughed, looking over at Benjamin shaking his head. It was not the response Benjamin expected as the laugh grew louder before Chris fell quiet.

“Are you?” Chris looked at Benjamin, defiant, a mischievous smile. “Yes, Benjamin, yes. And I think you knew already.”

Benjamin found Chris’ attitude infectious and he laughed softly at the admission. Looking over he nodded his head.

“Me too.”

“Can I ask why you have seemed to…avoid me. To…I don’t know how to say it, but you always seem to be distant.”

“It was your age and how I thought your mother was looking at me. Like I was going to take advantage of her little boy.”

Chris scoffed then looked at Benjamin incredulous. “Seriously? You thought my mother would do something?”

“I wasn’t sure and…but that is what I want to talk about. We talked yesterday…”

“Who? You and my mother?”

“Yes; but listen. She knows Chris. Knows far more than I realized.”

“What did she say?”

“Basically, she just wants you to be happy. She…sort of…gave me permission to like…maybe ask you out?”

“Well, I’m eighteen now and don’t…”

“She knows that too, Chris. I think you should talk with her. I think it would be better for both of you.”

“Wait; ask me out?”

“I huh…well…”

“Come on, don’t leave me waiting any longer.”

“Fuck you” Benjamin replied, giving Chris a little push on the upper arm. “But…well, you want to go out for dinner…maybe today?”

“Sure, but what about you? You going to talk to your parents?”

“It seems our mothers have already discussed it, so yeah, it is time to have a little talk with mom.”

“They have discussed it?”

“I told you; they know more than we realized.”

Chris didn’t say anything as he contemplated what it meant. The two of them turned back to the heron wading along the edge of the pond. They could hear a loud truck drive by on the road behind them, then a silence, not even the crows making a sound.

“This is nice” whispered Chris.

Suddenly there was a phone ringing and the sound of it vibrating coming from Benjamin’s pocket. He pulled it out and saw it was his mom.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Benjamin listened as Chris watched his response.

“We’re…heading back now. Why?”

Benjamin listened to her response, and he smiled, unable to stop himself.

“When will you be back?”

Chris wondered about the conversation, getting the jest of it.

“Tomorrow morning? Well, be careful driving down, and don’t worry. I’ll just run into town for dinner.”

Benjamin hit ‘end’ and slipped the phone into his pocket.

“They’re going to Mobile to see my grandparents.”

“I see.”

“Let’s go on up to the house. I want something to drink” Benjamin replied, climbing to his feet.

Chris rode behind Benjamin as they negotiated a narrow path along the back of the field that led to the barn. Circling around and into the back yard, they saw the old white Dodge truck parked to the side of the carport and the newer Chevy truck that belonged to Benjamin’s dad in its place underneath. Next to it was an empty space, the SUV that belonged to Benjamin’s mom gone, his parents already left on their trip to Mobile.

They leaned the bikes against the screen porch and went inside. Benjamin pulled out a pitcher of water that resided in the frig and poured two glasses. Standing opposite of each other, neither were able to suppress an urge to smile, then laugh nervously at being alone in the house.

“Damn, I need a shower” said Benjamin holding up his sleeve taking a whiff of it.

“You want to shower together?” Chris asked, and suddenly the last of the tension between them evaporated. For the first time, Benjamin felt like everything was going to be alright. He set his glass in the sink and turned to Chris, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of him. Looking up, he put his hands on the narrow waist.

“That would be nice.”

Chris set his glass down, and taking Benjamin’s hand led him across the room, down the hall to the bathroom. He pushed the door open with his butt as he backed into the room, pulling Benjamin along. Inside the small room, they stood close, and Benjamin leaned forward and kissed him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Well, don’t stop” Chris replied, holding Benjamin by the back of the neck while they kissed again.

It lingered for long time. Lips pressed to lips, or along jawlines around ears and over necks. There were soft whispers, affectionate mutterings, silly giggles neither were able to contain. Hands began to tug and pull on the other’s clothing, shirts lifted over heads, shorts undone falling around ankles, only to be kicked into a corner, then the fondling through underwear, feeling the aroused state of the other, manipulating it till it increased to a painful state. Underwear fell to ankles and erections were pressed along side each other. The slick torsos moved against each other as hands slid over backs and down to ass cheeks.

Benjamin pulled away and started the shower. Hand held under the spray till warm, he guided Chris to follow him over the side of the tub and under the spray of water. They kissed as water cascaded over his head, and down between them. Chris pulled him around, pushing him against the wall. Hard cock pressed against his stomach then slid upward. He grasped it, feeling the girth fill his hand. Stroking it, Chris moaned into his mouth, then kissed along his jaw then neck. Head angled back against the wall, he manipulated the head of Chris’ cock, toyed with it till soft cries then a louder one echoed in the shower. Chris moved down and Benjamin let the thick cock slip between his thighs and slide along his ass. Back and forth it raked along that place and he found himself moving with it increasing the stimulation. He wanted to feel this touch. He spread his legs and felt Chris push up closer. Hands reached around his thighs and he found his legs around the narrow waist and cock pushing at his opening.

“Do it…put it in me” Benjamin uttered as cock rubbed over his tightness.

Chris rocked on his feet and Benjamin felt himself pushed against the wall harder, then cock stretching him open. He clung to the tall lean body while shuddering from the pain of entry. But he wanted it, more than anything. He had fantasied about this moment, the two of them in such an embrace. He wrapped his arms around Chris’ neck and felt the rocking motion as cock pushed in a little further, then pull outward. Over and over, the penetration increase, till Chris was nipping at his neck while working cock into his depths.

“Fuck…Benjamin…fuck…”

Benjamin was surprised at how the skinnier Chris could manhandle him, keep him pinned against the wall while fucking him. He felt every thrust into his depths. It aroused him, made him harder, his own cock pinned between them, manipulated by the undulating body of Chris. He felt his sex, the nature of it, this drive for release. He didn’t want it to end.

Chris slipped free and let Benjamin back on his feet. He pushed him against the wall and brought their lips together. With lips still touching, “turn around” Chris whispered, and Benjamin faced the wall, hands flat against the cool tile. Chris wrapped an arm around his neck and suddenly he was penetrated again. Cock bore into his depths, and he felt the way it piston inside his hole. The thrust inward and the pull out, tugging on the tight ring of his opening till he was pressing his forehead against the tile and grunting with every thrust.

A hand tugged on Benjamin’s cock, then toyed with this tightening sac while cock kept working his hole. He pushed back to take every inch and lips touched his neck then teeth tugged on his ear. Hot breath caressed its curvature then he heard the soft pleading to take it.

Chris began to fuck in a rough irregular rhythm. His hips smacked against Benjamin’s ass harder and harder until he pushed roughly against it, jamming cock into the depths of Benjamin’s hole. He cried out and shuddered pressed against Benjamin, who knew he was taking Chris’ load.

The shower washed over them as Chris leaned against Benjamin’s back, panting hard trying to catch his breath. Eventually, breathing finally slowed, he pulled back and guided Benjamin to turn around where they kissed.

“Let’s get cleaned up and go back to my room” said Benjamin.

They bathed each other, soapy hands gliding over the other, exploring every curve and form. Fingers combed through hair working shampoo into it as they laughed and joked around. Once rinsed of all the soap, they stepped out of the tub and dried each other, playfully goosing sides or tugging on cocks making them grow aroused.

Benjamin led Chris to his room and pushed him down on the bed. He moved down next to him, pushing up against the warm body increasing his arousal. “Fuck…you feel good” he said as his cock grew rock hard.

“Do me…put it in me” Chris whispered.

Benjamin moved up next to Chris as he turned on his side. One leg pulled up spread ass cheeks and Benjamin shifted till his cock was pressed against the tight opening. He pushed gently and slowly, until Chris opened to him. The tight squeeze on his cock head, then each inch of shaft as he slid it into Chris’ depths caused him to shudder, wondering if he would cum too soon. Pushing till pressed against Chris’ ass, he held still adjusting to the sensation.

When Chris began to rock his hips, working Benjamin’s cock, it was the manipulation that drove him to move. He rocked his hips driving inward deeper, as far as he could go until he felt Chris shivering with the penetration. Then he began to fuck, to pull outward dragging his cock through the tight opening then push back in, over and over, till the bed rocked softly underneath them.

Benjamin nipped at a shoulder, then kissed the back of the neck as they fucked. He fell into a slow rhythm, relishing the feel of it, the heat of Chris’ body enveloping his cock. Reaching around he took Chris in hand, feeling the cock thicken in his grasp. He stroked it in rhythm to their fuck and his hand grew wet and slick. The room shrank around them, nothing in focus, the sensation of touch overwhelming the other senses.

But Benjamin wanted more, a different sensation of Chris. He pulled out and moved over the prone body. Arms under each of his legs, he lifted them up till he could grasp each ankle. He pushed forward as he moved between the legs and his cock found its home, slipping back inside of Chris and he folded him over, ankles pressed down either side of his torso. Then he worked his own torso, drove inward, pulled outward, over and over, till his pace increased. The bed rocked, squeaked with the weight of the two of them, then began to tap the wall. A steady tapping in rhythm with their fuck.

Benjamin couldn’t hold back, and his pace increased. The bed rocked harder and Chris, stroking his own cock, grew more verbal. Benjamin jammed his cock into the deepest recesses of Chris’ hole till sweat dripped from his face and chest. Chris came first, cum spattering his chest and stomach as his hole spasm around the trusting cock.  

“FUCK…I’m going to…” Benjamin exclaimed, unable to finish as his body was shuddering with release.

They lay on the bed for a long time, side by side. Benjamin moved a finger over Chris. Up along the chest feeling the ribcage beneath the skin, then circling around a nipple. He circled it, getting closer and closer watching it harder and stick out, then he raked his finger over it making Chris shiver and beg him to stop. He traced the collar bone, circled the indention below the neck and dragged fingers down the center of the chest and around the navel making Chris giggle. He ran the fingers down, through pubic hair and over flaccid cock till it twitched and rolled over, thickening with his touch. Leaning over he kissed a spot below the ear, then dragged his lips along the jaw and chin feeling the unbelievably smooth skin. He moved upward and pressed their lips together.

“It’s getting late. If we’re going to dinner we need to get moving” said Benjamin in a tone that sounded like he wasn’t sure about dinner.

“I’m starving, so we should go eat.”

“Yeah, me too” Benjamin admitted. From their bike ride and then the sex, his stomach was growling with need for food.

Benjamin got dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and they headed out. Bikes loaded in his truck they drove to Chris’ house. While Chris cleaned up and got dressed, Benjamin sat at the island, talking with Mrs. Gregory. She asked about their bike ride and what were they up to next and as he explained where they had ridden and how they were going into town for dinner, he knew the conversation was skirting the real issue. But she didn’t pry for answers, letting Benjamin led the conversation around the topic, even though it was obvious by what wasn’t said.

Chris came into the room buttoning a shirt. The lower portion splayed open revealing how the faded jeans hung low on his waist and Benjamin forced himself to look away, not wanting Mrs. Gregory to see how he longed for Chris.

“We’re going to grab dinner then go back to Benjamin’s to watch a movie. I’ll be home by ten.”

“Okay. You boys be careful” Mrs. Gregory replied as she looked from Chris to Benjamin, giving him a small nod before turning back to the sink where she was rinsing vegetables.

A Year Later

Benjamin’s parents pulled around the house, the exterior recently repainted. They walked past the familiar Tahoe, Dodge truck and old Jeep Cherokee. Across the back porch, they entered a house still being renovated. The mud room was complete, with a washer and dryer on one wall and a large utility sink and counter on the other. Through the interior door were sounds of conservations and cooking, and they passed through into the kitchen. New cabinets lined the walls and through a large opening framed in the interior wall, the living room beyond was visible. They moved into the room where Chris’ parents leaned against the counters on one side while Chris was at the sink washing a pot recently used and Benjamin was at the cooktop stirring a gravy.

They greeted each, each now familiar with the other. They asked about the other’s day and how their latest crops were doing. The mothers stepped in to help, taking plates and utensils to the dining room, a room still not finished. Its walls were patched and sanded, and the window needed new trim. Baseboard leaned in one corner ready to be installed. A new table sat in the middle of the unfinished room looking like some oasis of modernity in the chaos surrounding it.

Chris and Benjamin moved in sync, unspoken gestures, light touches that let one pass the other or capture one’s attention. They interjected comments into their parent’s conversation and whispered to each other. For the two of them the house was slowly taking shape, only a few rooms left to finish, but through the debris of construction, the unfinished nature of some rooms, it still spoke of home. A place that spoke of family, even if that family was different.

Once the food was ready, they moved to the dining room, finding their usual places, for this dinner that occurred on Sundays twice a month. It was a ritual developed over the last few months. The boys, as their parents still referred to them, took their places at each end with their parents along each side. And as music played softly in the background, and dishes were passed around, they settled into the intimacy of a shared meal. A family come together, reinforcing the bonds that connect them.