Coming Home

Trevor pulled off the interstate and down the ramp. It had been less than five months since his last trip, but this one was different. For the last three years his trips were about coming home for the holidays, but this one, near the end of May, was coming to help his family. He had not worked on the farm since his summer break between Sophomore and Junior years, so this trip felt like some pilgrimage, a journey back to revisit his old life.

Travis, his brother, and Cathy were going on a long-planned honeymoon, for when they married a year ago, they were unable to do the kind of trip they wanted. Unfortunately, the wheat was late, and there were two fields left to harvest, and once that was done, the planting them with soybeans. It would take about a week, something Trevor could easily handle letting his brother go on his honeymoon. He would also stay at Travis and Cathy’s place to take care of the two dogs, Callie and Copper.

Driving along the four-lane highway as it came into the small town, he thought of his high school days, then leaving for college, thus leaving the farm. Even from a young age, it was always his younger brother you like the farm. The one who took an interest in every aspect, from understanding the land to keeping the machinery running. For Trevor, he was different. He wanted another way of life. He majored in Landscape Architecture and after a year at college came out to his family. It had been tumultuous around the farm during that summer, but over the next couple of years, his parents came around. He knew it had been his brother who did the most coaxing for acceptance.

Living in Atlanta was so different than living in the rural countryside of Alabama. The openness which he could live, going out with one guy or another, never having to look over his shoulder or worry about a reaction that could get out of hand. He knew the community back home had found out over the last few years, and each trip home he would see firsthand the judgements by some of the people. The stares at the general store, or the snide comments when standing in line at the grocery store. It was tiring, something so unnecessary. How he lived his life was of no concern to anyone else, especially the people who lived in his family’s community.

Trevor drove through town, half the storefronts papered over, and of the ones in business, half were consignment shops or antique stores, which he knew half the merchandise could in no way be considered antiques. The diner was still in the middle of town, and across the street the drug store advertising new management, something that seemed to occur every two or three years. On the southern outskirts of town, he sat at the last traffic signal waiting on it to change while watching trucks and SUVs turn on Sheffield Lane going to one of the old shopping centers. In the line of vehicles, he saw one familiar Dodge truck, one driven by a classmate from high school. He watched Jack turn not bothering to wave, knowing even if recognized, Jack would not wave back. He knew the score. The next two weeks he would help his father, have lunch and dinner with him and his mother, and hang out at his brother’s place watching television and playing with the dogs. He would stay two weeks, till Travis and Cathy returned, and if he felt up to it, might drive down to Mobile or Pensacola for a Saturday night.

The light changed and he eased away, shifting through the gears of his red GTI, something out of place in this small town. He accelerated up slowly, leaving the 35-mph limit of town and out into the countryside. He continued to accelerate till up to speed, enjoying the feel of his little car as he maneuvered around the curves that swept around the rolling terrain.  It was only ten more miles and he would be at the old farmhouse Travis and Cathy had been renovating since the first of the year.

The house had changed since December, with a new paint color, shutters and a screen porch added across the back. Trevor pulled into the drive finding himself greeted by his brother and the two hounds. There was the usual brotherly greeting; the quick hug, the inquiring of how each had been and then the joking around, the snide comments made with a love only two brothers could share.

Travis and Cathy helped Trevor get settled in the guest bedroom then showed him around the house. The finished bathroom the three bedrooms shared, the living room with walls bare ready for painting, and the kitchen that had half the cabinets removed, being prepped for remodeling. Just before five they loaded up in Trevor’s little red hatchback and went to their parent’s house for dinner. They sat around the dining table till late, it being a Saturday night, talking about the news of the community, the plans for the next week and small things that made up one’s life.

The next morning, Travis and Cathy loaded up and headed for Atlanta to catch their flight. Trevor sat on the screen porch till it was time to head to his parent’s for lunch. It would be a lazy day, watching a baseball game with his dad, while his mother puttered around the house. The next day was going to a long one and for the week ahead. Trevor knew if his dad and he got an early start and laid with it, they could have the two fields over in Green Village cut by Wednesday. Afterward, they would burn the fields off, disc then once and plant soybeans. It would take them a little more than four days to plant with the old six row planter. It was a schedule of work he had not done in years but knew it would only be for a week or so and he’d have the remainder of his time to relax.

With his dad in his recliner and he sprawled out on the sofa, they watched the game go from inning to inning. The game passed slowly; the score tied for a long time. Trevor didn’t really care for baseball, found it a boring game, but on this day before starting the hard week that lay ahead of him, it was comforting. This game without a clock, the passage of time almost meaningless.

 He saw a change in pitcher for the home team. A stocky guy who filled out his uniform in a way that almost caused Trevor to utter aloud ‘nice’. When the pitcher pulled his cap off to wipe at his brow, the thick mop of brown hair, matted down by sweat and the cap, Trevor got a good look at him. ‘He looks like Jordy’ he thought as he watched the pitcher kick at the ground then go through some ritual before pitching the ball. Jordy had been his first real boyfriend. The third guy he had dated in college. The one that encouraged him to come out to his family. There was the same build, with a round ass that stretched the seat of the pants and thick brown hair that never seemed to stay combed. There were times Trevor wondered why they broke up. But it had been the sex, Jordy’s insistence on always being on top, never willing to flip for Trevor. It had seemed like a small thing at first but over time, Trevor’s desire for their sex to be more mutual, the two of them able to enjoy more than one role. He enjoyed being on bottom, but he also enjoyed being on top. In the end, they drifted apart, both knowing sooner or later, that would be their destiny.

Monday began bright and sunny, the heat building quickly. Trevor drove the grain truck, keeping it nearby to unload the bins of wheat from the combine, and once loaded, made the eight-mile drive to the elevator to unload. It had been odd at first, sitting up in the truck, driving down the narrow two-lane roads, then easing around the field. He had not driven it in years. Over the course of the day he made trip after trip to the elevator, sitting on the scale for the full weight, driving to the elevator where he slowly raised the box to dump the wheat in the pit, then back to the scale for an empty weight. The first couple of trips had been awkward, for he recognized Emily, the woman at the office and the three men at the elevator, but they barely spoke to each other. He knew not to push it, to just let it go. If they didn’t say anything, then he would do the same.

On Tuesday afternoon, Trevor needed to put in an order for soybean seed, to make sure they would be available on Thursday when they would start the planting. He pulled the empty truck to the side of the parking lot and went into the office. He saw the looks from the staff and other farmers and ignored it as he waited at the counter for his turn.

“Trevor? Man, what are you doing here?”

Trevor was surprised to hear his name called out, more so with a friendly tone. He turned to see Charlie coming out of the office area in back. Charlie’s father had been the manager of the elevator for years, so it was not surprising to see Charlie working there too. In school, Charlie had been a year behind him, one of those boys who was never considered really part of the group of farmer’s sons, since his father didn’t farm, being the manager of the elevator.

“Charlie? Hey, man, you work here too?”

“I’m the manager now. Dad retired last December.”

“Wow, so you’re the man now.”

Charlie laughed, shaking his head, “I’m not sure about that, but yeah, I guess so. So, what are you doing here?”

“Travis and Cathy have gone on that honeymoon they put off last year and with wheat being late, I came down to help dad get the last of it harvested and beans planted.”

“So, what do you need?”

“I was going to put in an order for the soybean seed. We’re going to start on Thursday.”

“Come on back, I can do that for you.”

Trevor followed Charlie down a narrow hall past three offices and into the Manager’s office. It was a large office, and to Trevor’s surprise, neat and orderly. Charlie’s dad used to keep it looking in complete disarray, even though he had known what was in each stack of paper and manuals. Charlie circled the old wood desk and sat as Trevor stood for a minute, looking through the window that opened into the warehouse for seed and other supplies. He saw old Buddy pulling a pallet jack of five-gallon buckets, and at the writing desk mounted on the wall near the man door at front, stood AJ working with Mr. Hastings, one of the farmers in the community. In the center of the room, loading another pallet jack was a young guy loading bags of seed. It was the one person Trevor didn’t recognize.

“Who’s that?” Trevor asked nodding his head toward the window.

“That is my best hire to date. Kid showed up last March, ironically on the day I fired Mitch Jackson, looking for a job.”

“You fired Mitch?”

“Trevor, he still has a drinking problem, worse than in school. He got to missing more days than he showed up. I tried to get him help, even paid to have him see a councilor but…”

Trevor saw the look of defeat and knew to let it go. “So, this guy just showed up that day?”

“Yep. Name’s Sawyer and he came from somewhere over in Mississippi. No one has gotten his story, but it can’t be good. He showed up with a backpack and the clothes on his back. I hired him, thinking he couldn’t be worse than Mitch. My plan was to work him till I found someone else. But damn, the guy works like a dog. Rachel found out he was sleeping here in the warehouse at night and, well you can imagine. Her church helped him get set up in one of Mr. Simpson’s trailers.”

“He still running that trailer park down near Bushy Creek?”

“Yep, and with the same wore out trailers too. But Sawyer seemed pleased as hell to get one. Rachel made me take him into town for some supplies and new clothes. Trevor, I don’t think he’d ever been in a department store before.”

“Wow” Trevor replied as he sat down to get to business.

Trevor and his dad worked into the night wanting to make the next day a short one. It was getting late, nearly ten o’clock, when they needed one more bin to have the truck loaded. The elevator was closed and once loaded they would have to call it a night. He watched the combine move slowly along the field; the header brightly lit up followed by the dark silhouette of the large machine.

Wednesday afternoon, Trevor took off with the last load, the truck only about half full, while his dad headed back home to put the combine in the barn. It was the usual routine; on the scale, through the elevator to dump the grain, back on the scale and then on the road home. They were going to treat themselves for finishing early. They got cleaned up and headed over to the fish camp.

The restaurant was busy when they arrived around six-thirty. The waitress sat them at a table in the middle of the room and Trevor felt, for the first time since getting there, an old feeling of discomfort. He saw the looks from those who knew him, the judgmental stares. His father seemed oblivious, until he realized how his father was aware, choosing to ignore it. ‘Let it go’ his father had stated at one point, seeing the look of aggravation he knew was in his face.

Looking around the room while waiting on their order, Trevor saw one of the waiters at a nearby table. He couldn’t help it. He checked the guy out. Tall, lean, with blonde hair, the waiter reminded him of David, whom he had dated when first moving to Atlanta. The image of David snuggling next to him in bed on the mornings he stayed over. The comfort of it, another guy sharing his bed. They had dated for a few months, but David had been just passing through, Atlanta a stop on his way to New York. For Trevor, David became one in a series of casual dates, none serious enough for the boyfriend label. The waiter looked his way as if he knew Trevor was staring at him. There was a nod of acknowledgment then the turn to go back to the kitchen. He knew the waiter had only been polite, nice to one of the customers that he may one day be serving.

The next morning, Trevor headed to the elevator in the flat bed truck. He was going for the seed while his dad headed to the field with the larger tractor and disc to prep for planting. The day quickly grew hot, humid, with clouds of gnats hovering a few feet above the ground, and Trevor was thankful most of their time would be spent inside the tractor cabs.  He’d even dressed in only a white t-shirt and jeans, knowing the air conditioning in the cabs with all their glass struggled to keep them comfortable. As he made his way to the elevator, he couldn’t help but look out over the other fields. Some had rows of corn or cotton but there were many like his own father’s, that had rows of soybeans.

The scales were empty, and no trucks were there to unload when he arrived at seven. It was when the warehouse and office would open, and he wanted to get underway as soon as possible. Inside the office, Charlie was behind the counter talking with Emily, who nodded in greeting when he strolled up and leaned against it.

“Hey Trevor, your order is ready. Emily, hand me that purchase order. Not that one, the other one.”

Charlie held out the purchase order to Trevor, “Just pull up to the dock at the first door. Sawyer will get you loaded up.”

“Thanks” Trevor replied as he took the form and walked back to the truck.

Backed up to the dock he set the parking brake and stepped out. The dock was a covered open-air platform that ran the length of the building about ten feet wide. Along its length were a man door at each end and a series of roll-up doors in between. The first roll-up door rattled up and he saw two pallets stacked with seed parked close. Sawyer stepped around the jamb and to the edge of the dock. He was wearing jeans that fit snug around his ass, and a shirt with the sleeves cut off revealing long lean arms. Trevor wondered how this skinny guy could work here, lifting bags of seed all day.

“You have the purchase order?”

“Yep; here ya go” Trevor replied holding out the form.

“Thanks” Sawyer replied in a quiet low voice, giving the form a quick read before heading back into the warehouse.

Sawyer came back into view, grabbed the handle of the first pallet jack and pulled it out onto the dock. Setting it down near the edge, Sawyer stepped onto the truck and began to transfer the seed, stacking each bag neatly, starting at the cab. Trevor watched him, the way those skinny arms flexed with muscle, more so than he expected. A lift then a kind of swinging motion bringing the bags across the bed and down into place. Trevor couldn’t stop himself from making comparisons. First the physical appearance, with light brown hair, almost blonde, and the dark skin tone that wasn’t from sun exposure. It was hard to get the measure of Sawyer, such as his height from standing on the flat bed above him, but he looked about average. Then there were the mannerisms, and the quiet way Sawyer carried himself, not making small talk like the others. There was no ‘where you from’ or ‘who’s your family’ or any of the other small talk so prevalent in the community. Sawyer reminded him of Ricky, the last guy he dated in college. A quiet, shy farm boy from Arkansas who turned aggressive in bed, where he pushed Trevor to fuck him as hard as possible. Trevor wondered if Sawyer would be like that, a Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde character. It was such an intriguing thought, something too bawdy to be considering, but he smiled at the thought of it.

“What’s so funny” Sawyer asked, and Trevor realized he had been staring at him when he smiled.

“Oh…nothing…I was just thinking about someone from college…I…” Trevor replied, stammering, embarrassed at how it must have looked to Sawyer, his smile perceived as a laughing gesture about him.

Sawyer glared at him for second, then stepped back to the pallet for another bag. Trevor turned away, knowing he had to be red in the face. He knew better than to look at the guys in this community and think of them that way. It would lead to nothing but trouble. He felt the truck rock with each bag set in place as he watched a GMC grain truck pull in, a former classmate at the wheel. He almost waved, before catching himself. Turning back to Sawyer, he watched the empty pallet get pulled back into the warehouse. Sawyer returned with the other one.

“Sawyer, I didn’t mean to appear to be laughing at you. Honestly, I was thinking of something else.”

“Forget it” Sawyer replied, tossing another bag down on the flat bed. Then he froze, turned to Trevor with a curious expression. “How do you know my name?”

“Charlie; we were in school together. Well, he was a year behind me, but we’ve known each other for a long time” Trevor replied, knowing he was on the verge of rambling on too much. “You like working here?”

“It’s a job and most are nice to me.”

“It is a fucking job” said Trevor and he could hear that old push back against this life on a farm, a disdain developed not from actually disliking the work but the attitudes he saw, especially toward those like himself.

“We do what we have to do” said Sawyer after a minute.

Trevor felt embolden, and he leaned against the seed bags near the cab while watching Sawyer. “So, where are you from?”

“What?”

“Where are you from? I know almost everyone around here and you are new to the area.”

“Mississippi.”

“Really. Can’t say I know much about the state. I know Biloxi, Jackson, Starkville, Oxford and what was the place that singer came from…it’s one my grandmother loved to listen to.”

“Presley?”

“Yeah, him.”

“Tupelo.”

“Huh?”

“He was from Tupelo.”

“Oh, yeah.  Where are you from?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Try me.”

“It was a little place near Cascilla.”

“Cas…”

“Cascilla.”

“Don’t know it.”

“I know” replied Sawyer as he slung another bag of seed in place.

Trevor sensed how he was pushing Sawyer and he let him work in peace till only two bags were left to load. Sweat trickled down Sawyer’s face, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He was probably the only guy who didn’t wear a cap.

“I guess you’re still figuring out the area. You know, the best places to eat or…”

“I don’t get out much. Is there anything else you need?” asked Sawyer after setting the last bag on the truck then standing up straight, looking down on Trevor.

“No, just the seed.”

“Well, I have other orders to pull. You have a nice day” said Sawyer, and Trevor heard the tone that was dismissing him.

Trevor came out of the shower, slipped on a white shirt, boxers and jeans. It was still daylight, for his father had surprised him by stopping around five, saying he had some errands he wanted to do. This left Trevor on his own for the first time since coming home. In the kitchen, he had contemplated cooking something but decided the kitchen was in too much disarray. He grabbed up his keys and started out the door when he stopped and stared at the keys hanging from a decorative wood key holder. He saw the keys to Travis’ truck, extra house keys, keys to unknown locks, and hanging down at the bottom, the old Ford keys he knew were for their Grandfather’s old truck, one Travis had kept. He had not laid eyes on it in years and knew Travis had done some work on it. He grabbed the keys and headed for the small barn where he knew it was parked.

Pulling the barn door open the front of the truck lit up in the late afternoon daylight. The grille, split in the middle with round headlights on either side, and above this rectangle, a band that held the turn signals and the letters for Ford. It was a 1974 Ford F-250. A highboy, with a four-wheel drive chassis. The paint reflected the light and Trevor saw it been repainted, but still the same blue as the original.

Behind the wheel he remembered how Travis and he would ride with their grandfather through pastures and across fields, bouncing and rocking over the rough terrain. It was a four-speed manual and the gearshift rose long out of the transmission hump and next to it was the lever for the transfer case. He started the engine and knew immediately his brother had a performance exhaust on the old 390. It rumbled even in its idle. It was foolish really, to be so thrilled by driving such a beast of a truck, but he smiled as he put it in first and let it ease out of the barn and into the daylight.

Trevor drove along the road from his parents till he came to the main highway and he pulled out, accelerated briskly, working through the gears till he was up to speed, heading toward town. He motored through the small commercial area on the south side till he was in downtown. The street was busy, mostly people passing through, and he eased along till he found a space near the diner.

Stepping down, locking the door, Trevor smiled, remembering how his grandfather had done the same whenever they had drove the truck into town for lunch or out to the tractor dealership for some part. It was rough riding, rocking and bouncing over every rough spot. The engine rumbled noisily. The bench seat wouldn’t hold you in place without the seatbelts and the radio was a joke. But it was childishly fun just the same.

After a quiet dinner sitting at the window watching the activity of a small town, Trevor drove down to the grocery store. He grabbed some snack foods, a case of beer, and a few regular grocery items, like a couple of steaks and some potatoes. As he set the items on the conveyor belt, he smirked at how different his selections were from what he would have bought back in Atlanta. No green vegetables, no cheeses or bottles of wine.

Back in the truck, the bags in the passenger footwell, Trevor made his way to the main highway and headed south. The sun had set, and the last light of the day was fading fast. Headlights on, more for other vehicles, he drove up the long incline just south of town, crested at the point where open fields lay on each side of the road that afforded a view over a long distance, then down to where the highway crossed a small creek. He saw the reflection in front of him, red in color and thought it might be at one of the driveways ahead, that cut across the ditch. Then he saw it move, shift left then right. As he neared it, the red reflection moved further right till it ran along the white line along the road’s edge.

“Damn” Trevor uttered at the realization it was someone on a bicycle. On the rural highways, especially this main one, it was risky to ride a bicycle, even in daylight. But at dusk, it was dangerous. He slowed, then slowed further when cars rounded the curve coming from the opposite direction. When he was behind the bike, he saw it was an old touring bike, with some sort of saddle over the rear wheel. The rider was wearing a backpack and was paddling as fast as he could using the downhill grade to his advantage. Once the oncoming traffic passed, Trevor eased down on the accelerator, pulling to the middle of the road. As he was about to pass, his headlights still illuminating the rider, he recognized him. It was Sawyer wearing the same clothes from that morning.

“You have got to be kidding me” Trevor groaned, unable to believe Sawyer would be out this late on a bicycle. He pulled ahead then off the road onto the shoulder, flipping on the flashers.

Looking in the mirror on the door, Trevor saw Sawyer wasn’t slowing down. Legs kept pumping the pedals. He lowered this window quickly, leaning out as Sawyer came up along side of him.

“HEY! Sawyer. Stop.”

Sawyer sat up, aware of being called. He slowed down then eased off the road some twenty feet in front where the headlight illuminated him. Trevor stepped out of the truck and walked over to him, hands in his pockets, keeping a casual manner.

“Hey man, what are you doing out on a bicycle at this hour?”

“I had to work late but still needed to make a run to the grocery store.”

“But its twelve miles or more to Mr. Simpson’s trailer park.”

“How do you know where I live?”

“I…look, I just do. But the issue isn’t that. It’s dangerous to be riding on this highway now that it’s getting dark.”

Sawyer spun around, his face showing a frustration Trevor didn’t recognize. “Look, I don’t have a choice. Okay? I don’t have a truck. I only have this old bicycle. It’s all I can afford at the moment and…I don’t have a driver’s license either. So, when I need something from town, this is how I get there.”

Trevor took a depth breath, realizing how he has come off to Sawyer. “Okay, you’re right. I didn’t think and didn’t mean to be mocking or judgmental.”

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about it” Sawyer replied as he started to pull the bicycle back on the road.

“Wait, Sawyer, let me give you a ride. It’s practically on my way home and I was serious about it being dangerous.”

Sawyer stopped, head down for a moment, then he nodded it as he looked back at Trevor. “Okay.”

Bicycle in the bed of truck and grocery bags and saddle between them, Trevor pulled back on the road. They road in silence for several miles, Trevor glancing over to see Sawyer staring straight ahead for a long time, then gradually looking around the interior of the truck.

“It was granddad’s truck. He bought it new back in ’74, or the fall of ’73. I’m not sure which. My brother, Travis, bought it from him several years ago and has been slowly restoring it. From what I can see, all he has left is the gages and refinishing the seat and floor mat.”

“It’s nice” Sawyer replied in such a low voice Trevor barely heard him.

“It is a rough, crude beast of a vehicle, but damn I love driving the old thing.”

Another silence, as Trevor didn’t know what to say. Sawyer was a stranger to him, but he found himself wanting to know more about him. Was it just some social aspect of human nature? He turned on Farmland Road, shifting back up through the gears till at speed. The truck bounced and darted over the rough road as the yellow line, solid and dashes, raced through the headlights.

After crossing the mile-long plateau, the road began a downward ascent. Reflectors marked three drives ahead on the right. Trevor knew one was to the trailer park and the others were to Mr. Simpson’s place. The trailer park was in the back of his property, once fields Mr. Simpson’s father had in cultivation.

“Which drive is it?” Trevor asked as he slowed.

“The first one. The next two are Mr. Simpson’s place.”

“So….how do you like living here? The job and everything?”

“It’s okay” Sawyer replied in a low flat tone, one that didn’t encourage further comment.

Trevor turned into the first drive, a gravel lane that ran straight back. After about a tenth of a mile, rows of trailers became visible in the truck’s headlights.

“Turn left and go to the last drive. It’s the third one on the left.”

“Okay” replied Trevor as he followed the directions.

The truck hadn’t even come to a complete stop and Sawyer was opening the door. As he got his backpack on and grabbed up the satchel, Trevor was getting the bicycle from the truck bed.

“Just leaned it against the stoop and I’ll bring it in after I get the door unlocked” said Sawyer, crossing a small wooden stoop to the door of his mobile home.

Trevor leaned the bicycle on the stoop and looked in the small living area when Sawyer swung the door open and went inside. He saw the walls were painted white and the floor was some cheap vinyl tile. There was a chair and a coffee table in the living, a portable radio on the table, and that was it. No other furniture that he could see, or anything personal, like photographs. Sawyer quickly reappeared, coming out onto the stoop.

“Trevor, thanks for giving me a ride.”

“No problem. Just be careful on that highway, and if you can, get someone to give you a ride.”

Sawyer just nodded without saying anything and Trevor knew to end it there. He climbed into the truck and headed for his brother’s place.

They were in the last field the next Monday, only a few acres left to plant and realized they were short on seed. Trevor looked across the flat bed and saw his father smiling back.

“Never fails, either too many bags or not enough. I’ll plant these seed and you run to the elevator to get what we need to finish.”

“What do you think we’ll need?”

Trevor watched his father survey the remaining acreage, doing a calculation in his head.

“Get six or seven bags. I think that will do it.”

“You think?” Trevor replied, smiling at his father.

The elevator was quiet, everyone finished with wheat harvest, but there were two trucks backed up to the dock when Trevor pulled up. He saw Sawyer loading up one truck and Buddy the other. Inside the office he saw the usual judgmental looks. He waited his turn and once at the counter, he gave Emily his best fake smile.

“I need eight bags of soybean seed.”

“I don’t know if we have any left” Emily replied in a blunt tone.

“Sure, we do, we got more in two days ago” said Charlie coming behind the counter from the offices.

“Thanks Charlie” Trevor replied. He saw the red flare up in Emily’s face and the temptation to make a snide comment was almost too great to pass up, but biting his tongue, he moved over to stand in front of Charlie. “We miscalculated.”

“You’re not the first and won’t be the last” Charlie uttered without looking up as he filled out the order.

At the dock, Trevor put the flat bed in park and killed the engine. When he heard the roll-up door going up, he stepped out and moved to the dock. Sawyer came out pulling a pallet jack with the eight bags neatly stacked on it. Sawyer acted odd when he came out, didn’t even bother to look at him as he stepped on the flat bed with the first bag. Trevor felt the cold aloofness and knew something had been said or done since the other night.

“What the fuck? What is your problem?” asked Trevor.

Sawyer set another bag down and glanced over at him. He stood and looked back at the open dock door then down at Trevor. “The guys said you were trouble, and I should stay away from you.”

“They did. What did they say exactly?” asked Trevor, waiting for the usual bigotry.

Sawyer saw how angry Trevor had become, with jaw locked tight, waiting on his response. “They just said you were not to be trusted…that you messed with people.”

“Fuck…” Trevor uttered turning to look off in the distance. He turned back to Sawyer, defiant now. “Well, what those assholes are afraid of is the fact I’m gay. You got a problem with it too?”

Sawyer stood frozen for a second, unsure what to say. It was the first-time hearing someone admit to being gay. He started to say something about it had to be wrong, the natural order of things, as he had heard before, but Trevor walked to the driver’s door and opened it.

“Just load up the fucking seed so I can go” said Trevor in a fiery tone, then he climbed into the truck and slammed the door. The engine started up, revving a few times.

Sawyer knew not to say anything else. He turned back to the dock and loaded the remaining bags, climbed on the dock and watched the flat bed truck pull away quickly, Trevor not looking back.

By the time Trevor got back to the field he had calmed himself down, knowing it was just the usual bullshit he had dealt with before. This time next week he’d be back in Atlanta. He moved the truck along the edge of the field slowly, till he was where his father was pulling around and stopping. They poured a bushel of seed in each planter bin. His father said it was enough to finish, for there was only about five acres remaining. It left two bags on the flat bed.

“I’ll finish up and head back to the barn. Why don’t you take those back before they close?”

“Okay” Trevor replied, concealing the expression he really wanted to make. “I’ll see you back at the house” he added as he climbed into the truck.

On the way, not wanting to go into the office or deal with anyone, Trevor called ahead asking for Charlie. He explained the extra bags and would be swinging by to drop them off, making up an excuse he had to get home as soon as possible. Charlie agreed he could just toss them up on the dock and they would email the paperwork on the refund.

At the elevator, there was no one at the dock. All the roll-up doors were down but the man door stood open nearest the office. Trevor wheeled up to the dock pulling parallel to it as close as he dared get. He didn’t wait on anyone to come out, hopping up on the flat bed, he set one bag on the dock. He turned to the other bag, lifted it up and swung around to put it on the dock when he saw Sawyer standing close. He set the bag down and without looking at him explained his phone call with Charlie and hopped down. He reached for the door when Sawyer called out.

“Trevor. Trevor. I’m sorry.”

Trevor glanced over at Sawyer, frowned, shaking his head. “Just forget about it. I’ll be gone in less than week, so it doesn’t matter.” He climbed into the truck and pulled away, kicking up gravel as he sped away.

About a mile down the road Trevor was tempted to turn around and go back. He had been short, when Sawyer had apologized, something no one else around the community had ever done. He slapped the steering wheel a couple of times and felt like crying. All those old comments from the past rose up, the cruelty of it. Then he saw Sawyer standing on the dock, looking dejected.

At his parent’s place, his dad hadn’t made it back. He pulled the flat bed into the barn and went inside to find his mother preparing a large dinner.

“Where’s your father?”

“Finishing up the Crawford field. He should be here in about thirty minutes.”

“Good. Go wash up and you can set the table. Dinner will be ready by then. I fixed your favorite. Pot roast.”

Trevor smiled at how suddenly everything seemed right once again.

Trevor slept in on Tuesday, rode into town for a biscuit at one of the fast food joints, then went back to his brother’s place, sitting in the hammock letting it rock back and forth slowly. His parents were going to Mobile, and he had begged off, telling them he would see them on Wednesday. He napped, then lay awake watching the few clouds in the sky float across it. For lunch he made a sandwich and sat on the screen porch with the novel he had brought with him, picking it up for the first time since getting home. Around two o’clock he looked at the yard, with the grass grown up ready to be mowed again.

In the barn, Trevor gassed up the large riding mower, fired it up and rode around to the front of the house to start. He mowed the ditch, then around the front of the house and walk, and kept going till he was finally at back at the barn, pulling the mower into its place. He glanced at his watch, amazed at how fast he had gotten the yard cut.

Trevor cleaned up, slipped into a clean t-shirt and jeans and went out to the barn to get the old Highboy Ford. It was earlier than usual, but he headed to town for dinner. The diner in downtown wasn’t busy, it being a Tuesday, and he sat at the window watching the traffic move through town and the few pedestrians on the sidewalk, then settled back into his novel, keeping his eyes on the page avoiding the other patrons. He just did not want to see any more judgmental looks.

On the south side of town, Trevor pulled into the grocery store and grabbed some ginger ale then drove over to the liquor store, ready for something with a comforting burn to it. His brother drank some rot gut he hated and decided that what was left he would leave for his brother, hoping to corrupt him with better taste.

On the highway, Trevor motored up to speed shifting through gears, hearing the rumbling V-8 as he pushed the revs in the lower gears. The truck searched for the line of the lane, bouncing over every imperfection. He drove down the highway till he came to Farmland Road and without thinking he turned. The sun was to his back, and he saw his shadow begin to stretch out in front as he motored around the curves and across one low area till up on the main plateau. The road was straight, west to east, and he eased up to fifty miles per hour. He hadn’t gone far on the straight when he saw the bicyclist up ahead coming his way. Even though he couldn’t see any detail of the rider, he knew it had to be Sawyer. As the distance closed between them, he wondered about stopping. “Fuck it” he uttered aloud as he held his speed.

Then Trevor realized a truck was coming up behind Sawyer, closing the distance quickly. As he came closer, he saw the truck would arrive about the same time at Sawyer’s location. He slowed, wondering if the other driver had even seen Sawyer. Were they on their cell phone or fiddling around with the radio? It appeared the truck was not slowing as it closed in on Sawyer. He couldn’t get it to compute, the chances of the three of them crossing the same point, but suddenly he was upon Sawyer, who seemed to be looking his way while not worrying about someone from behind. The other truck eased over, crossed the yellow dashed line. Trevor cut the wheel, putting the passenger side on the shoulder, ready to go all the way in the ditch if need be. The other truck didn’t ease over further and suddenly Sawyer was aware of the situation. In a flash, just as Trevor passed Sawyer, he saw him jerk the bicycle off the road and into the ditch. He hit the brakes and held his line as the other truck motored between them and kept going.

“Asshole!” Trevor yelled out as he turned back up on the road and stopped. In the rear-view mirror, he could see the other truck shrinking from sight, but the angle wasn’t right to see the ditch where Sawyer went down. He cranked down the window and leaned out, looking back. The front wheel of the bicycle was sticking up above the tall grass. The saddle bag lay at the road’s edge. But Sawyer was not to be seen. Back into gear, Trevor spun the truck around and pulled up to where the bicycle lay, parking in the road with the flashers on. Parking brake set, he jumped out and ran around to the ditch where Sawyer was laying on his back, staring up at the sky.

“Are you okay?” Trevor asked as he stepped down to where Sawyer lay.

“I’m fine” Sawyer uttered in an exasperated voice.

Trevor saw the look. One he knew all too well. But Sawyer looked worse, a defeat that seemed absolute. He eased down on one knee looking to see if there were any injuries.

“Seriously, Sawyer, are you hurt anywhere?”

“NO, I’m not hurt” Sawyer replied, finally sitting up. Grass and twigs were in his hair and on his back. His backpack was wet at the bottom and the sound of broken glass could be heard within it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he suddenly uttered as he slipped the backpack off and unzipped it to look inside. “Fuck.”

“Where were you heading at this time of day?”

“Back to the elevator. AJ wanted me to help him do an inventory. I came home to get something to eat and decided to take it back to the elevator for I wasn’t hungry yet.”

“Well, come on, let’s get you into the truck. I’ll take you back home. We can call AJ and…”

“No, I’m going on to the elevator.”

“But do you have anything to eat?”

“I can manage. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay” Trevor replied, unable to find the strength to argue.

At the elevator, the warehouse was closed up, with the lights out. A note was taped to the door. Sawyer pulled it down to read, while Trevor pushed his bicycle up to the dock.

Sawyer

Something came up. We’ll do it later.

AJ

 Trevor saw the slump of the shoulders. The note fluttering in the right hand as both arms hung limp. Sawyer threw his head back and groaned, then a low utterance Trevor barely heard.

“Why me?”

“What is it?

“Nothing. Just leave the bike there and you can go.”

“But the place is closed up. Where’s AJ?”

“He’s gone. Something came up, and he’s gone.” Sawyer sat down on the dock, head down. “Just leave.”

“Sawyer; get your ass up and come on. I’ll take you back. Unless you don’t want to be seen riding with me.”

“What? No, that isn’t it. It’s just…never mind.”

“I’m putting the bike back in the truck. Come on. It won’t take but a few minutes to run you home.”

As soon as they broke over the edge of the plateau heading to the Simpson place and his trailer park, they saw the red flashing lights. Pickups of the volunteer fire department lined the shoulder of the road, and fire and smoke rose above the trees in the area of the trailer park.

“Oh no, no, no” said Sawyer sitting up.

Trevor knew Sawyer was positive it would be his trailer burning. It was only logical to someone who seemed to have nothing but bad luck. He pulled down as close as he could and parked on the shoulder of the road.

“Let’s just leave everything in the truck and go see what is happening” said Trevor as they both opened doors and stepped down.

Trevor recognized one of the men standing at the end of the trailer park drive, John Abernathy, who had been a year ahead of him in school. With Sawyer right beside him, they walked down the road till close to John.

“John, which trailer is on fire?” asked Trevor.

“Oh, hey Trevor. It’s Mrs. Matthews, the old widow woman in the first one by the entry. We think she fell asleep with a burning cigarette.”

“She did smoke heavily” replied Trevor, relieved it wasn’t Sawyer’s. “She okay?”

“Yes, just some smoke inhalation. The ambulance is on the way to take her to the hospital to be checked out.”

“Can I get to my trailer?” asked Sawyer, stepping up closer.

“You can if it isn’t one near Mrs. Matthews, but I wouldn’t recommend it, if you have somewhere else to stay I recommend it” said John, looking over their shoulders at the ambulance coming down the road. “Let’s step off over here and let the ambulance in.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Trevor, sensing the reason by the darkness through the trees.

“The fire got to the main power line, cable too I would assume. The whole place is in the dark.”

“Come on Sawyer, let’s go check your trailer” said Trevor motioning him to follow.

They went down the drive as far as they could then cut through Mr. Simpson’s back yard, around the old barn to the far side of the trailer park.

“I wasn’t going to say this in front of John, but you should grab some clothes and toiletries and just come back to my brother’s place.”

“What? No, I can’t do…”

“Why? Are you afraid of me? Is someone trying to do a good deed too much to endure?”

“I’m not afraid of you. I’m sorry about what I said but…” said Sawyer hesitating. “Okay, I just never had anyone give a shit about me until I moved here. I’ll get some things and go with you.”

Trevor stood in the dark living room looking around with his cell phone light at the sparse nature of it, while Sawyer was in the back bedroom. It was as he had seen before. Nothing personal about the room. Nothing hanging on the walls, no mementos or trinkets on the small table by the chair. And bleaker still with only one chair, small side table in the room. A portable radio sat on the counter between the kitchen and living room. But it was neat, everything clean and tidy. The white walls looked freshly painted and he wondered if Sawyer had done the painting himself.

Sawyer came out the back with a gym bag. “Let’s go.”

Sawyer sat on the sofa, his plate finished, as Trevor and he watched television. Trevor was leaned back in the recliner, hands clasped together behind his head. It was one of those movies based on a comic book with heroes and villains, and there were times he wanted to tell Sawyer to watch closely, some big moment about to happen, but he refrained, letting Sawyer enjoy the movie.

Trevor had made up a bed in the other bedroom and let Sawyer get a shower while he had prepared him something to eat. Now they sat in silence. He caught Sawyer time and time again looking his way. Was he nervous? Was there something he wanted to ask but was afraid? It amused him to think of it.

But Trevor also had to admit to himself he was also looking at Sawyer in a different way. From the first moment he had seen him, he thought Sawyer was attractive and just needed cleaning up. Looking at him now, after the shower, dressed in a t-shirt that was stretched out of shape and a pair of jeans a bit too frayed, he saw that attractiveness once again. Even with the bad haircut (did he cut it himself?) and the sparse beard trying to come in along his chin, Sawyer was cute. Maybe more so with the wavy hair flopped over his forehead, still wet along the edges. It was thoughts he knew he needed to squash, not give Sawyer any hint he was thinking it.

“Your brother’s place is nice” said Sawyer, ending the silence between them.

“Nice?” Trevor repeated, looking around into the disaster area that is the kitchen, “yeah, or it will be if they ever get the renovation done.”

“Do you have a house in Atlanta?”

“No, I rent an apartment. I live in Midtown and it is so expensive. Maybe one day, but right now I’m just another renter.”

“You have a boyfriend back in Atlanta?”

There it was, a question that would do down that path. “No.”

“It’s a lot better for you there? I mean, better than here?”

“Yes, it is. You’ve heard some of it, I’m sure.”

“So, you never been with a girl?”

Damn, Sawyer wasn’t going to let it go, Trevor realized and he was tempted to sit up and end the conversation, but when he looked at Sawyer, there wasn’t the usual judgmental look most around the community would give him when going down this line of questioning. He saw something else. Sawyer looked genuinely curious.

“No. I guess you can say I’m on the gay end of the scale.”

“Scale?”

“You know; sexuality being a bit more fluid than what the holy rollers like to claim. You have those are that straight and those that are gay and some in between.”

“Bisexuals?”

“That is a label for it, but I think there’s more to it.”

“Like what?”

“Some guys might be attracted to both sexes but will choose a woman because he also wants a family. You know, that primitive urge to procreate” said Trevor, chuckling a little. “Or the pressure from society will make him or her choose the opposite sex.”

The room fell silent as Trevor watched the movie, letting Sawyer think about what he had said. As the final action scene developed, they focused more closely on the movie. By the time the credits began to roll, Sawyer didn’t seem as tense as before.

“Watch the credits; they slip in a scene or two at the end” said Trevor, sitting up, then standing to go into the kitchen. “I’m going to get something to snack on. You want anything?”

“No, I’m full.”

“What time do you need to be at work?”

“Since the harvest is over, I don’t have to be there till nine o’clock.”

“I’ll set my alarm for seven. That’ll give us time to eat breakfast and run by your place before I drop you off at the elevator.”

“You don’t have to do that; I can ride my bike.”

“Sawyer, I know those assholes at the elevator will give you shit if they see you with me. I’ll take you to the water tower and you can ride that last mile to the elevator. How does that sound?”

“Okay” replied Sawyer, and Trevor saw the smile, the first one he had seen.

Sawyer washed his dishes and set them in the drain, said good night and went into the small guest bedroom, closing the door behind him. Trevor shut off the television, washed his glass and wiped down the kitchen, then went to the bedroom he was sleeping in. He didn’t bother closing the door, didn’t like rooms all shut up, and stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed. He lay for a long time wondering what life had been like for Sawyer. What was he? Nineteen? And he had come on foot from some place in Mississippi. Everything about his appearance said it was a hard life. But underneath it, there was a softness that he found likeable. Sawyer was introverted, but he wasn’t sure if it was his personality or outside factors that made him that way.

Rolling toward the window, one arm under the pillow, he settled down and slowly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of bicycles and fire and Sawyer and sex.

“Trevor”

A dream, a noise in the darkness.

“Trevor?”

A little louder, more real. Trevor blinked awake and saw the silvery gray image of Sawyer standing by his bed. The moonlight filtering in around the blinds cut bands of light across the bed, Sawyer and the far wall. It didn’t register at first, but he quickly realized Sawyer was stripped down to boxers. He saw the lean, but muscular body, a teen boy starting to fill out as a man.

“Sawyer? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Trevor…” whispered Sawyer, his voice trailing off.

Trevor sat up and heard Sawyer take a deep breath and step closer to the bed.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to do anything, but can I just sleep with you?”

Trevor was surprised, shocked that Sawyer was in his room asking this, but the stipulation there was to be no sex wasn’t a surprise. He tossed back the blanket to let Sawyer climb in. Sawyer eased down on the bed and for a moment they lay side by side, both on their backs looking up at the ceiling.

“Sawyer, you okay?”

“Not really” replied Sawyer turning on his side facing away.

Trevor rolled up next to him, but one arm around his chest and hugged their bodies close. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah” came the softest whisper, barely audible even in the silence of the room.

Trevor considered what had brought Sawyer to him. This need for something so simple. Just people comforting each other in bed. Bodies hugged together sharing their warmth. Trevor rubbed his nose through Sawyer’s hair just above the neck and suppressed the urge to kiss him. They lay awake for a long time, neither saying anything. For Trevor, he listened intently to Sawyer’s breathing, wondering if, and when he would relax and get some sleep.

The sun made the old house creak as it warmed in the early morning light. Bands of light filtered in through the blinds bringing the interior into a soft warm glow. Trevor stirred first. He woke laying on his back with Sawyer nestled up next to him, head on his chest. A leg was between his legs and he became aware of his morning erection, harder than usual. He wanted to touch it, to take it in hand. Then there was the hardness poking him on the thigh. He knew it wasn’t sexual, but the thought of it becoming sexual was something he couldn’t deny wanting.

He looked down at Sawyer still deep in sleep. Such a relaxed pose. An innocence of expression he wished Sawyer could possess when awake.

Sawyer stirred, eyes blinking as he gradually became conscious. Then fully awake, he jerked back from Trevor. He had the look of someone guilty. A fearful expression as he inched further away.

“Relax, don’t freak out” said Trevor, “you were just snuggling up in your sleep.”

“I’m sorry” Sawyer uttered as he rolled out of bed. “I’ll get dressed.”

“Okay, but will you relax?” said Trevor as he brought his feet to the floor. “I’ll get breakfast started then we’ll go.”

They rode by the trailer park and saw what was left of Mrs. Matthews’ trailer, the floor structure and one end wall. The power was back on and Mr. Simpson was strolling along the lane looking around. Sawyer dumped off his things and they headed toward the elevator. They rode in silence, Trevor not knowing what to say, afraid of making things worse. At the water tower, he pulled into the drive and parked.

“Sawyer; don’t freak out about it. Okay?”

Sawyer nodded his head, opened the door and stepped down. He stood at the door, looking down for a long time, then looked up. “Thanks Trevor. And I’m okay…really.”

“Good. And if you need something call me. Here’s my number” said Trevor holding out a small piece of paper folded in half. “I’m here till Sunday afternoon.”

“Thanks” Sawyer replied as he took the telephone number and slipped it into his backpack. “I need to get going” he added, then closed the door. Trevor watched him in the mirror, lift the bike from the bed, straddle it, then pedal away.

Something was wrong, out of alignment. Everything about last night then this morning played over and over while Trevor hung out at his parent’s house. There was lunch on the screen porch, then a walk down to the pond and back and an afternoon of sitting in the swing reading. They let the day pass slowly, relaxed with their work done. His father knew he had only a short break and he would have to cultivate the beans.

They rode over to Greenville for dinner, enjoying the ride along back roads, reminiscing about previous events along the way. Once back at the farm, Trevor told them goodnight and headed back to his brother’s place. He felt a need for whiskey and a good movie. Lights left off, a glass of the gold liquid and an old movie he had not seen in a few years playing, he settled back in the recliner. He tried to focus on the movie, to follow the storyline, but he kept returning to Sawyer. He wondered what kind of life lay before him. Would he stay in the community or would a day come he would feel compelled to pack up and head to somewhere new?

Slugging back the last of the whiskey, he put the footrest down and went into the kitchen for another. With the movie paused, the house was silent, only his own stirrings making any sound. Then he heard the screen door swing open and ease close. Footsteps crossed the porch and a silhouette appeared through the curtain. Finally, a timid knock, just two short raps.

“Coming” Trevor called out as he set his drink on the bar and went to the door. The silhouette looked familiar, both in height and shape, with shaggy hair and lean build. And in the way it moved, like a deer ready to bolt at the first strange sound. He pulled the door open and faced Sawyer, who looked around as if he thought he had been followed.

“Hey, Trevor. Can I come in?”

“Sure; come on in. What’s up?”

Sawyer walked past Trevor and stood a few feet away. He fidgeted around then turned back to him.

“I was wondering…just wanted to know…would…” said Sawyer stammering, not making any sense.

“What is it, Sawyer? Just tell me.”

Sawyer looked up at Trevor then moved to him, quickly, not giving him time to respond. He grabbed him by the face, holding it with both hands and kissed him quickly on the mouth. Then he stepped back, the timidness returned.

“Oh” said Trevor. He saw the confusion mixed with a desire to be close to someone. “Sawyer…”

“Will you just show me what’s it like. Just this once?” Sawyer interrupted Trevor. “Or do you find me unattractive? I understand if you can’t…”

“Sawyer. That is not it. I do think you’re an attractive guy, and if in a different situation, I might have flirted with you. But here, now, I don’t think this is what you want. Not really.”

“I don’t know what I want” Sawyer replied, looking defiantly at Trevor. “But I want to try this with you. I’ve been thinking about it for days and you’re about to leave soon and…” he added, voice trailing off till the room was silent.

Trevor wanted it too but felt torn about pursuing it. He didn’t know what was driving Sawyer. What made him ride over in the dark. What gave him the courage to come to him and ask to be shown what it was like between two men.

“Please, Trevor” Sawyer whispered, wiping at the sweat trickling from his hair.

“Okay. But first a shower.”

Sawyer smiled, nodded his head and walked toward the small corridor that led to the bedrooms and the bath.

Trevor finished his drink, slugging it back in a couple of swallows, shut off the television and went to check on Sawyer. He was surprised to see the bathroom door open and looking in he saw him under the spray of water through the clear curtain. The lean muscular body, one use to walking, riding a bike and hard manual labor. Suds cascaded down the torso and legs, the whiteness of them in sharp contrast with the olive skin tone. And Sawyer’s cock was angled outward, half hard. Trevor wanted him, more than ever. He went to his bedroom and stripped, then came back to the bathroom. He strolled across the room, pulled the curtain back and stepped into the tub behind Sawyer.

“What are you doing?”

“Showering with you” Trevor replied as he saw Sawyer look up and down his body. It was probably the first time Sawyer had ever look at another guy, really looked at him. It made his cock flex to consider those eyes giving the measure of him. He placed his hands on Sawyer’s shoulders and caressed them. He rubbed downward, over the firm flat chest, then stomach. Leaning down he kissed Sawyer’s neck as he let his fingers comb through the small patch of pubic hair, till he felt the base of the cock. He kissed along the lean neck, up to the ear then along the jaw as he took Sawyer in hand, gave him a tug, a squeeze, then used his fingers to manipulate the arrow shaped head till Sawyer moaned and pushed into his hand wanting more stimulation.

Trevor shoved Sawyer against the tile wall as he kissed his mouth. He moved against him, pressed their bodies together as water cascaded between and over them. He slid his lips along the right cheek, over to the ear where he mouthed the lobe, tugged on it with his teeth, then moved down. Down over the neck, the indention below it, over to the right nipple where he tongued it, working the tip across it till the center was a protruding hard nub. He nipped at it till he felt Sawyer shiver and push him back. He trailed his lips and tongue over Sawyer’s flat stomach, downward till he was kissing Sawyer’s abdomen, then the head of his cock. He heard the moan, saw each of Sawyer’s hands go against the tile pushing against it, as he took head, then inch after inch of cock in his mouth.

Sawyer thickened in Trevor’s mouth, grew longer till he struggled to take it. He worked his mouth on it, feeling the thick shaft slide over his tongue. Sawyer was moaning and starting to work his hips. Trevor let him, wanted to feel Sawyer fill his mouth. He wanted this intimacy, sexual in nature. He wanted to feel Sawyer nearly choke him. He ran his hands up each muscular leg feeling the tightening of muscle. He pulled off Sawyer’s cock and mouthed his nuts, took each one in his mouth and tugged till tight in its sac.

“OH…oh…” Sawyer cried out.

Trevor took Sawyer in his mouth again. He felt the hard tube of flesh slide through his lips and glide slickly over his tongue.

“Stop, STOP. I’m going to come if you…” Sawyer exclaimed then shuddered with release.

Trevor took it, every wad that spurt from Sawyer’s cock. He let it fill his mouth, lay thick on his tongue, then he swallowed, and swallowed till Sawyer was spent. When he stood, he saw Sawyer’s spent, drained appearance. Eyes closed, head leaning back against the tile wall. Leaning forward he pressed his lips to Sawyers and felt a kiss in return.

“The water will get cold soon” whispered Trevor as he shut off the shower and pulled back the curtain. He helped Sawyer out, dried him then himself, and led him to the bedroom.

Trevor took Sawyer in hand, feeling the half hard cock stir, begin to get erect again.

“That’s it, get hard for me” said Trevor, his lips so close to Sawyer’s ear they grazed it. He pushed Sawyer to lie back on the bed and he straddled him. Ass on top of Sawyer’s erection, he rocked his hips back and forth, feeling the thick cock rub against it. The sensation of touch, the thick cock touching him there made him imagine it inside him. He felt hands on his thighs, the fingers digging into the firm flesh. He heard the moans and grunts, then the push upward and knew Sawyer was ready.

Trevor held the thick cock as he lowered to it. He felt that arrow shaped head nudge his tight opening, then slowly stretch him open. He moved slowly, letting the pain and pleasure overwhelm him as he took the head, then inch after inch of the shaft. He took it all, till seated on Sawyer’s hips. Opening his eyes, he saw Sawyer staring back, mouth hung open, breathing hard. They smiled at each other.

After holding still for a minute, Trevor began to move up and down, slowly at first, feeling every inch drag through his tightness till he loosened to it. Then he moved faster, and faster, till the bed rocked and squeaked. The hands on his thighs tightened their grip then one reached over and took him. Squeezed his own erection, then fingers toyed with the head making him shudder as he sank down roughly then push forward trying to increase the sensation of this manipulation. He didn’t understand why this touch was different, why the innocence of it made him feel it more. He pumped his ass on Sawyer’s cock while feeling his own grow harder, thicker, ready for release.

Trevor came.

Cum spattered Sawyer across the face, chest and stomach. Puddles of it trickled down his face, and around his sides. The smell of it filled the room. Trevor continued to ride him, roughly, body shaking with every ejaculation. He couldn’t take it. The way Trevor’s ass milked his cock. The way the whole room seemed to align with their fuck. The rocking bed, and now even his sense of smell increased his arousal. Trevor’s cum was wet, slick against his skin. He shoved upward as cum surged through his cock, and he exploded inside of Trevor.

Trevor should have seen the signs. Should have known something was amiss in the way Sawyer acted afterward. He had no sooner lay by his side, spent, breathing hard, that Sawyer jumped up saying he was going to shower it off. He should have caught the hardness in the way Sawyer had said ‘it’, as if it were dirty. He should have gone with him, told him to relax, to let the pleasure of their sex not become something else. But it had felt good just laying there, spent, waiting to settle down. But Sawyer was in the bathroom too long and with the door closed. He should have gone to him. The signs were there, but he didn’t recognize them, didn’t heed their warning.

Sawyer had come out of the bathroom and to the bedroom door already dressed. I have to go, he said, then that request, the one that made the picture clear. Don’t tell, don’t speak of it, and it was wrong. Then he was out the back door.

Trevor hesitated, lay there looking at the empty door frame, wondering how Sawyer could change so quickly. Then he jumped up and ran to the screen porch, not bothering to put on anything. He heard the screen door slam shut and far too soon for him to react, he saw Sawyer on his bicycle riding into the darkness.

Maybe he should have gone after him. But he thought Sawyer just needed time. Or maybe it really wasn’t something Sawyer enjoyed, but that defied what he had seen. The way Sawyer had been responding. It was Friday night and in two days he’d be back in Atlanta where he would put this behind him. He had too. It didn’t make sense to get involved in someone’s confusion about their sexuality. He didn’t have time for it, especially with someone who lived in this community. Crawling back in bed, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, then at the window as early morning light filtered around the blinds.

Trevor struggled through Saturday, laying around all morning then going to his parent’s for lunch. Afterward he walked around the farm with his dad, then hung out with them watching a baseball game. They went into town and ate dinner at the dinner then walked the few blocks of downtown in the dying light of day’s end.

“What’s wrong?” Trevor’s mother asked.

What should he tell her? He wondered at the truth but knew he could never violate his promise, not even to his own family. He knew he looked down, had all day. He told himself to buck up, to let it go, that he had to get back to Atlanta. He told himself a lot of things to try to forget that image of Sawyer standing at his bedroom door, then the dark silhouette pedaling away into the dark.

“Nothing…it’s just…I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’re just tired. I bet you sat up half the night watching television.”

“Yeah, a bit” he smiled at her, trying to make it a truth.

 Sunday morning, he packed, loaded up his car and stood in the rear yard looking at his brother’s place. It truly was a nice place; one he could see how it was home to his brother. A place of his own. He envied him for being someone who settled down so easily. He chastised himself for the foolishness of it, for he knew he had the same options in a way, and he was happy in Atlanta. With his job, his friends and the city itself, the way it let him live his life. Glancing at his watch he saw it was time to go to his parent’s. They were going to have an early lunch so he could get on the road.

On his way out, Trevor made a wide circular loop to drive by Mr. Simpson’s place and the trailer park. He slowed but didn’t stop, gripping the steering wheel tight, convincing himself to keep going. To stop would only make things worse. He glanced down the drive as he passed but it was so quick, he didn’t notice the lone figure standing to the side of the lane who watched him drive past.

For the next week, Trevor felt out of sync, constantly being asked if he was paying attention or what was he thinking about. He strolled down the sidewalks of his neighborhood in the evenings, telling himself it was to walk off dinner, but it was to think and to chastise himself. He had returned to Atlanta with things a mess back home. How did he expect Sawyer to react, this awakening of an aspect of himself he didn’t understand? Trevor knew it had to be tough for him, first living such an impoverished life, but then to have his own sense of self challenged. He remembered his own coming out to this family, and how tough it had been on everyone at first. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for someone like Sawyer.

He called home every Sunday, sometime in the afternoon. But the next Sunday his cell phone rang while walking home from brunch with friends. He saw it was his mother and worried something was wrong. He called them, not the other way around.

“Hey, mom. What’s up?” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but it was there, and he hoped she didn’t hear it if nothing was wrong.

“I’m just calling you for a change. How are you?” The familiar voice reading his own so quickly.

“I’m good.”

“Really?”

Trevor heard the doubt in her voice.

“Really. So, what’s the special occasion that has you calling me?”

“Well, it’s kind of strange. I started to call Wednesday night, but said I was being foolish.”

“Wednesday; what happened?”

“You know that boy over at the elevator?”

“Yeah” Trevor replied dragging the word out, wondering where this was going.

“He came by that evening. Lord, it was nearly dark when that boy showed up on that old bike. I’m surprised he doesn’t get hit by a…”

“Mom, what did he want?”

“Trevor, he wanted your address. Did something happen between the two of you? Please tell me you didn’t…”

“What? Take advantage of him or something?” Trevor interrupted his mother, suddenly an anger in his voice, at her for what he thought she was insinuating and at himself for the small aspect of truth in it.

“No, son, I don’t think you did something wrong, not really, but…something happened. I know it. By the way you were acting before you left, and by the way that boy was stammering on, unable to look me in the eye.”

“Mom…did you give him my address?”

“Yes.”

The conversation circled away from Sawyer, Trevor avoiding the subject and when they finally hung up, he felt like he should do something. There was an impulse to jump into his car and drive back, as foolish as he knew it was to consider. He wondered if he should call Mr. Simpson to find out about Sawyer, maybe even get him on the phone. Or maybe he should just get Sawyer’s address. It made him feel desperate, and foolish. There was nothing to do but wait on Sawyer to write him and see where things were between them.

After work on Monday, Trevor raced home to check his mail. There was a credit card bill, three envelopes and fliers of junk mail. But no letter. On Tuesday, he begged off meeting Sam and Chris for pizza and raced home. Again no, letter. It was the same on Wednesday and Thursday, and he was beginning to think Sawyer had decided not to contact him. Friday was a dreary day, a slow drizzling rain greeted him that morning and lasted all day. Work was one meeting after another till it was four o’clock and he watched the last hour pass by, minute by minute. Chris called to get him to meet them at Blake’s for a drink and he reluctantly went, knowing he had to do something to get out the funk he had been in all week.

Trevor found hanging out the guys a salve to his melancholy mood. After a couple drinks he found his old self, laughing with the guys and the banter going around the table. They left the bar around seven and walked down to the vegetarian restaurant where they crowded in around a four-top table, the five of them bumping elbows and feet while enjoying an evening together.

It was nearly eleven when Trevor got back to his apartment, and with the key in the mailbox, he wondered if this would be the day he finally heard from Sawyer. He opened the box and slipped out the day’s mail. There was a professional magazine, a few pieces of junk mail and a sales flier, but once again, nothing from Sawyer. He felt it, the way it took away his good mood. He took the elevator to his floor and ambled down the hall to his apartment.

Trevor didn’t cut on any overhead lights, instead relying on the small lamp on the side table. He changed out of his clothes, putting on sweatpants and a tank top, went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He wanted to sit on the balcony, but it was still raining, so he fell back on the sofa with the double doors open and listened to it rain. He lay on the sofa for a long time, sipping the beer till it was gone, just watching the Atlanta skyline, glowing ghostly in the rainy night.

Saturday morning was perfect. Not a cloud in the vivid blue sky. And the humidity was down, the air crisp and warm. Trevor woke late, ate breakfast on the balcony, then changed into gym shorts. He tossed his t-shirt on the bed and slipped on his running shoes. He passed several of his neighbors on the way to the elevator where they exchanged a quick ‘good morning’.

Trevor came out and stretched on the sidewalk as he watched the day’s traffic, on the sidewalk and the street. He headed toward the park, jogging at a slow pace, getting his muscles loosened up. When he circled into the park, he increased his pace, till he felt the exertion. That flex of muscle, the increase in breathing, and how even his mind seemed to clear.

When Trevor got back to his apartment, sweat covered his chest and trickled down his face out of his hair. He walked up the stair to his floor then ambled down the hall slowly, feeling the cooling of his body. A quick shower, one that made him feel better than he had in days, and he dressed in cargo shorts and tank top. He went into the kitchen to prepare lunch but didn’t feel like going through the process. He picked up his cell phone to call one of the guys but set it back down when he saw the book he was reading, sitting on the coffee table. About half-way through it, he had not gotten far in the last few days. A quiet lunch with his book felt in order, and he picked it up and headed out.

After lunch, Trevor wondered around on foot for a while, browsing through a few shops, making a large lazy loop back to his apartment. As he came to the entry, the mailman came out, empty white bins in hand. He strolled to the mail room and slid the key into the lock of his box. His hope of receiving mail form Sawyer almost gone. But there was a hope, no matter how diminished. He opened the box and saw the mail. Several envelopes and a roll of fliers that made the small box look full. He slid it out, locked the box and went to the elevator. He didn’t look at the mail in his hand. He was going to wait till in his apartment, beer in hand, maybe even wait till seated on the balcony. In his mind, today was the last day he would anticipate hearing from Sawyer. After today, he would consider the whole episode over, that Sawyer thought better of it.

In his apartment, Trevor tossed the fliers in the recycle bin, grabbed a beer he suddenly felt a strong need, and sat out on the balcony. Holding the mail. he looked out over the street and skyline, marveling at how nice a day it had turned out, especially after the rainy day of before. A long swallow, then another, he sat the beer down and looked at the envelopes. First one was an announcement of a gallery opening, one a friend had been talking about putting together for months. The second envelope was alumni information from his old college. The third was junk mail, but when he looked at it, he saw the one behind it, a plain white envelope, its edges bent and wrinkled. And the name in the upper left corner.

S. Ellison

Trevor dropped the other envelope and held it in a shaking hand. The handwriting was uneven, a cursive writing that angled upward across the plain white envelope. Ball point pen, he thought for the way ink smeared at some starting points of writing. He didn’t know why he even thought of it or why he considered it important in some way. He read the return address.

                                    5820 Farmland Road, Unit 36

Trevor had his address for Sawyer, but would he need it. Working at the flap, he finally got his finger underneath and gently tore it open along the fold at top. He pulled out the letter and found it was one sheet of notebook paper, the edge rough where it had been torn out of a spiral notebook. Just one sheet, and he saw the writing didn’t cover much of the page. Hand shaking, he unfolded the sheet of paper till he saw the same rough cursive handwriting.

 Trevor

I’m sorry about the other day. I shouldn’t have left like I did, but it was scary how much I enjoyed what we did. What we did?  I can’t even write it. I’m still scared about it. How do you go about your life when so many around you look at you like you are evil?  I heard AJ and Emily talking after you went back to Atlanta and know if you had heard it           what would you have done?

 I wish I hadn’t run. I wish things had ended differently. But I learned a long time ago not to wish for nothing. You don’t get it.

 I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and it weren’t your fault. 

 Sawyer

 It rattled Trevor; the simple way Sawyer apologized. The insinuation of wishing for more to have happened. It made him want to go back home. He wanted to face Sawyer, tell him it was okay to be scared, to have doubts about one’s own self, but more importantly, he wanted to tell him he should not be afraid to live his own life, no matter the choices he makes.

Trevor wished he could call Sawyer. To make an immediate connection with him. But all he had was the return address to someone with no phone. He’d never written a letter to anyone in his life, always having social media and text messages, or the simple immediacy of a phone call. Any time, any place, a connection with a friend or love one that he had taken for granted, till now. There was nothing left to do but write Sawyer back. But first he had to get stationary, and envelopes, and probably more stamps.

Half-finished beer on the counter, Trevor slipped on sandals and headed out. On the way down he wondered which store he should go, the department store about a half-mile away or go over to the shops in the old warehouse building where he remembered seeing stationary in a shop on the second level. He drove down the parking deck, and to the street. He looked left, the direction to the redeveloped warehouse, then right back toward the area of the closest shopping centers. He looked each way once again then turned left.

Sitting at the dining table, the new stationary spread out in front of him with its matching envelopes he thought of this lost art of writing. He wondered if he could really do it, write a nice letter, one that would speak the things he wanted to say. Sliding a sheet of paper down in front of him, he looked at the blank page imaging what it would be like once he filled it with what he needed to say. It was a handmade paper, with a light mottled coloring of pale blue fading into a dull tan. He fingered the sheet, still surprised by the weight of it. It seemed to nice to write on, but he picked up the black fountain pen he had splurged on and began to write.

There was the formal greeting, the appeal not to feel sorry and how he understood in a small way what Sawyer must have felt. He apologized for his part, by not stopping Sawyer from leaving, then not coming after him. He should have come by before leaving, then confessed how he thought Sawyer didn’t want to see him. He didn’t mean to go into how it had been for him, the coming out then coming back to find hostility where he least expected it. The clinging to beliefs that he had long since rejected. Bigoted notions toward anyone who didn’t fit into some preconceived slot. He wrote for pages, ink flowing freely through the pen. Then there was the closing paragraph, the conclusion to this confession.

Sawyer, I want to see you next time I’m home. How is up to you. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you, or anything that will make life more difficult. But I want to see you. I wish you had a phone so I could have called immediately after receiving your letter, but after writing this, I realize I’d never said everything I needed to in a phone call. I wish I could come back right away, or if you had a car and could come to Atlanta. I’m about to go too far again.

Take care of yourself, Sawyer, and till I make it back home, please write whenever you can.

Trevor

There were so many pages they barely fit in the envelope and it required extra postage to mail. Trevor put it in the mailbox that night, unable to wait till Monday, afraid he would tear it open and try to change something, edit it in some way he knew wasn’t necessary. It’d take three days or so, he assumed, for the letter to arrive, knowing it would be Monday before it even left the mailbox.

The next week he was on pins and needles, wondering when his letter would arrive, then wondering if Sawyer would reply. The next Monday, he only had one piece of mail. It was a plain white envelope with the familiar writing on it. He raced up the stairs, too impatient to wait on the elevator and tore into it as soon as he was inside the apartment. There were three pages this time and he struggled to read them with his hands shaking like they were.

Sawyer opened up to Trevor, told more about himself, confessed things he had told no one before. Growing up in a rural part of Mississippi in an old house tucked into a stand of pine. Then at fourteen finding himself alone. Trevor tried not to think of it, but the images created by Sawyer’s writing knotted up inside of him. The hard life he had no idea how to make an association. He would forever feel a disconnect with the kind of impoverished life described in those slanting lines. When he finished reading the letter, he read it again, to make sure it had been real, finding every word still there. Then he went to the sofa and lay on it, staring out at the city’s skyline, numb to its dazzling display of civilization, of wealth and status.

Trevor went through the motion of preparing something for dinner. A ham sandwich and some chips, with another beer. He sat at the dining table, Sawyer’s letter laying in front of him. When he finished, plate pushed to one side, he wiped his hands and slide the stationary over, laying a sheet in front of him. Fountain pen filled with ink; he began to write.

Letters went back and forth, from the rural countryside to the big city. They carried confessions, longings, past histories, and they carried a growing relationship between two people. A friendship and something more; this fragile, hinted at desire for something more. Trevor found the act of writing a comfort and wondered how it had fallen out of favor. It allowed him to say things he would normally be afraid to say, to express hopes and desires that in person carried too much fear of rejection. But even with this freedom of expression, he held back with the one thing he was beginning to feel. He wanted to say it, to confess it to Sawyer, but in all of Sawyer’s letters, there was never the opening for such a declaration.

But after three letters he began to sign them ‘Love Trevor’, and he meant it.

Trevor went into his manager’s office one morning and asked if he could take a couple of days with Labor Day for a long weekend. There was a deadline a week before and it looked like his next project would not be ready to start till after the holiday.

“Get that project out the door and you can take off” his manager replied, leaned back in his large leather chair, smiling up at him. “In fact, I’ll give you Thursday too as a bonus for doing a good job if you meet the deadline. Now get out of here and finish that project.”

Trevor worked diligently on the project, even putting in overtime a few evenings to make sure he would be complete by the deadline. Labor Day was less than a week away when the bound up the PDF files and sent them to the client. Glancing at his watch he saw it was after four o’clock, the workday near its end. He spent it putting things away, making sure the computer files were neatly saved in an orderly fashion and cleared away his desk.

A few minutes before five, other shutting down computers or packing up, the manager strolled into the open office, making small talk with a few others as he made his way across the room. Trevor saw him come in, but being in the back of the room, one of the last hires, he soon became focused on clearing off this desk.

“Mr. Henderson called a few minutes ago.”

Trevor looked up at his manager, wondering what the client had to say. “Yes, everything okay with the documents?”

“Yes, yes, he’s thrilled you made the deadline and called to let us know he had forwarded them to his people. He said to let the project team know it looks like a good job and they’ll get back with us in two weeks with any comments.”

“Good.”

“So, you all set to take off on Thursday?”

“I’m actually going to leave after work tomorrow and get home that night.”

“Geez, Trevor, leaving Atlanta in the evening is a bad idea. It’ll take you hour just to get out of town.”

“I may linger around for an hour or so, then leave later, but I have plans for Thursday. About the next project, we still on for lunch tomorrow to discuss with the client the programming?”

“That is why I came over. He’s had to fly out west and canceled on us. Said we’d get together end of next week.”

“Oh, so what should I start on tomorrow? Go ahead with preliminaries?”

“No, let’s not take a chance of starting wrong. Just shut down your computer and take it off too. Get out of town before rush hour. When you get back, we’ll be burning the candle at both ends I’m afraid and will be through October, so take some time while you can.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me. Wait till you get back and I work your ass off.”

Trevor rushed home, grabbing Thai from the small restaurant that was a few blocks away, so he could get packed up and ready to leave early the next morning. Getting to sleep would be difficult, for he was anxious to get home. Alarm set, for he wanted to be awake early to get out of town before rush hour began.

It was still dark when Trevor pulled out of the parking deck and hit the road. It was an easy drive to the interstate, and an even easier one out of town, what traffic that existed at that hour was heading in. When the sun finally broke the darkness, the sky getting lighter and lighter, he was nearly to the state line. At the first exit with a fast food joint that served breakfast, he took the ramp and drove around to the garishly lit building with its line of cars circling the drive thru. He raced inside, hitting the men’s room then grabbed a biscuit and drink. He was back on the interstate in twenty minutes, biscuit gone and his drink down by half. Cruise control set, he motored toward Montgomery, knowing he had missed Atlanta’s rush hour traffic, but he’d not be so lucky there. He’d be driving through around seven or after, still early but traffic would be building up.

He had arranged to stay with his brother, the one person who wouldn’t question his every move, and after the conversations of the last couple of months, his mother asking about ‘that Sawyer boy’, he knew it was best. He pulled into his brother’s place a little after ten, and Cathy came out to meet him. There was the usual hug, small talk about the drive and leading him to the familiar little bedroom at the front of the house where he would be staying for the next five days. He brother arrived around six, and they sat on the screen porch, sipping beer, talking about nothing of importance.

After about an hour, three beers killed by each of them, Travis leaned back and laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, older brother.”

“Huh?”

“Still sneaking around, keeping secrets. Since you’re here a day sooner, you still going to wait till Saturday to let mom and dad know you’re home?”

“Yes.”

Travis laughed, making Trevor blush, then he sat up, looking more serious. “I get it. Mom can get nosy, want too much detail and you, the black sheep…”

“Very funny.”

“I know, its stupid, but you know how the community thinks. I’m the good son and you’re…well, going to burn in hell” said Travis laughing.

“Fuck them.”

“I know. They need their damn scapegoats. Someone to sacrifice to their prejudices, but hey, at least I’m the good one now.”

“We know the truth about that” said Cathy coming out on the porch. “Trevor, you going to go talk to that boy?”

“Yeah. I left things kind of messed up and if nothing else owe him an apology in person” replied Trevor, not divulging how Sawyer and he had been writing letters back and forth all summer.

“I’ve met that boy, Sawyer his name?”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t sense it.”

“Sense what?”

“That he’s gay. You on the other hand…”

The insinuation made the three of them burst out laughing. Trevor knew she was teasing him. She was like the sister he hadn’t had growing up. When he needed it, encouraging in a way that didn’t seem sentimental or preachy.

“Cathy, I don’t know if he’s gay really, Maybe somewhere in the middle on sexuality.”

“Middle?”

“You know honey, bi-sexual” said Travis, making Trevor shake his head.

“Well, this country girl doesn’t know all about that, but she does know dinner is getting cold, so you boys need to wash up and get your asses to the table” said Cathy, smiling at them as she went back inside.

After dinner it was obvious Trevor was anxious to see Sawyer, but he was also exhausted, having worked long days for over a week, then the long drive home. He struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Hey brother, take your ass to bed.”

“Okay. I am beat” replied Trevor as he climbed wearily form the sofa and made his way to bed.

Trevor woke late the next morning, Travis and Cathy both gone to work. On the counter a note and the keys to the old Ford Highboy, parked out in the barn.

I know you drove it last time. I keep track of the mileage. Don’t wreck it.

Travis

P.S. She is fun to drive, isn’t she?

Trevor rode into town, getting to the fast food joint just before they stopped serving breakfast. He cruised around the small town, then headed north up to the river. He drove old two-lane roads he had not been on since a teenager still in high school. He called Charlie at the elevator making up some excuse about needing to know what time they closed. In the off-season for the elevator they were closing early, around four o’clock.

At ten till four, Trevor was sitting in the old Ford truck parked at the water tower waiting on Sawyer to come riding by on his bicycle. Windows down, the warm air swirled in, still humid, fall still weeks away. He saw Emily drive by, face pinched up tight, sour as always, then AJ cruised by in his new Chevy, followed by Buddy in an old Dodge he meant to drive till it stopped running, something the old truck never seemed destined to do. Then he waited impatiently, wondering how long Sawyer would be in coming. After a few minutes he wondered if Sawyer had gone to work today.

Then he saw the small dot on the road. Saw it grow till he recognized it as someone on a bicycle. Closer and closer it drew, with details coming into focus. It was Sawyer, t-shirt bellowing around his torso and legs pumping up and down. Trevor watched him as he got closer and closer. He saw him sit up, looking his way, slow as he came up to the drive then stop in the middle of the road.

Trevor swung the door open and stepped down. When he stepped out from behind the door, he saw Sawyer pushing the bicycle off the road, drop it on the drive and come to him.

The small trailer seemed different. At first Trevor didn’t notice it, too caught up in finally being with Sawyer again, but then he realized there were framed photos on the wall and hanging on the side wall a small flat screen television. A remote lay on the side table along with a novel, a sheet of paper marking his place. Next to the book were a stack of envelopes Trevor recognized as his letters to Sawyer.

Looking closer at the photographs, Trevor realized they were places around the community. The elevator in various angles, the old stone community center over in Regis and the general store at the intersection of 32 and 99.

“Where did you get these photographs? They’re nice.”

“I took them” replied Sawyer smiling at Trevor, proud they were noticed.

“You took them?” said Trevor surprised.

“I found this old 35 mm camera in town and bought it. It’s a bitch to get the film developed. Have to send it off.”

Trevor turned to Sawyer and saw him standing a couple of feet away, waiting, looking unsure of how things were between them. He wanted to reach out to him, grab him into a hug, tear the clothes off him, push him down on the floor or drag his ass back to the bedroom. But what he wanted more than anything was to feel that lean body against his own. Feel the rhythm of its breathing, the press of fingers into his flesh as it hugged him back. But he wondered where it would lead, and could he do that to Sawyer, come take what he wanted, then go back to Atlanta once again, leaving him here.

“You want to eat something? I can fix something here, or we can…” said Sawyer in a nervous tone.

“No, not yet” Trevor replied, then he moved closer, throwing caution to the wind. “Sawyer” he whispered as he pulled him into a tight embrace.

Trevor felt the soft kiss on his neck. A timid touch of lips. Then he felt the hot exhale and the soft whisper. “Trevor...can we just go to the bedroom for a while?”

“Yes.”

They were half undressed when they fell on the bed. Trevor’s shirt was unbuttoned and hanging from his arms, but he was naked from the waist down. Sawyer’s t-shirt was tossed on the floor and his jeans and boxers hung from one leg. On top of Sawyer, Trevor held his chin while they kissed. It was gentle at first, but as their passions increased, their aroused state grew, hard cocks rubbing against each other, they kissed harder, rougher, consumed with their desire for the other.

Trevor assumed he would take Sawyer, be the one on bottom, but when he tried to roll them over Sawyer stopped him.

“I want to try” Sawyer whispered.

Trevor reached between them, fingers searching, probing below cock and loose sac till rubbing over Sawyer’s tightness. He fingered the opening till Sawyer was moaning, body undulating beneath him. It fueled his own arousal till he never wanted anyone as badly as he did Sawyer. He wanted to feel his cock inside him, locking their bodies together. Joined in an intimacy of sexual desire. He slipped one finger inside Sawyer, then another, and another till he felt Sawyer loosen to his ministrations. Sawyer shivered beneath him, moaned and grunted loudly. He came alive, sexually, yearning for more.

“Trevor” came a pleading cry and Trevor shifted positions till he was pushing against Sawyer’s tightness. He pushed slowly, feeling the head of his cock squeeze into him, and he kept pushing, urged on by the hands on his ass cheeks pulling him to go deeper.

Sawyer’s legs wrapped around Trevor’s waist as he pushed inward all the way, sinking every inch into Sawyer’s depths. And it began. Hips moved rhythmically. Bodies pushed against each other. Hands roamed over bare flesh. Lips pressed together between cries.

Trevor moved inside of Sawyer, his body growing hot with his exertions. Sweat made them slide slickly against each other. Hot exhales caressed necks, cheeks and the hollow place beneath the neck. There were pleadings whispered and exclaimed. The begging for more.

Sawyer clung to Trevor as he felt the penetration, the piston of cock in his body, and he didn’t want it to stop, even if it burned him up to cinders.

Trevor pushed in all the way and ground his hips against Sawyer’s ass trying to get further inside him. He tugged on Sawyer’s right ear, then whispered into it how much he missed him.

Sawyer became animated, moving wildly beneath Trevor. He hugged their bodies together and rolled them over till he was on top, Trevor’s cock still inside him. He sat up, body glistening wetly in the dim light and began to move up and down. Trevor held the narrow waist as Sawyer rode his cock, moving with a steady rhythm. The small double bed banged against the wall, growing louder and louder, hammering out the rhythm of their fuck. Sawyer’s cock, hard, leaking, smacked against Trevor’s stomach till the skin was slick with it.

Opening his eyes, Trevor lifted his head to watch Sawyer, to look upon the long lean torso and the face with its mouth hung open letting moans and grunts reverberate through the room. He watched rivulets of sweat cascaded down the flat chest and stomach. He watched Sawyer take himself in hand and stroke in rhythm to their fuck.

The room smelled of their sex, the exertions of two bodies till burning up with it. Trevor watched Sawyer’s hand, a blur of movement as he stroked himself. He felt it, the same sensation, as Sawyer moved on his cock, the tight opening milking the shaft and squeezing down on the sensitive head. He threw his head back closing his eyes once again, lost to this fuck. The way it brought him to the edge, a need for release increasing by the second. He heard Sawyer cry out, then the rough slamming down on his hips as cum hit him in the face. Then cum spattered his neck and chest, then fell in drops, pooling on his stomach. The smell of Sawyer hit him, the smell of his sex, and he pushed upward, hard, rocking Sawyer as if on a wild animal, and in that moment he was. Trevor came, pumping his hips upward with every ejaculation.

Trevor stirred sometime in the middle of the night, opening his eyes to bands of light cutting through the old blinds that were not completely closed. Next to him, softly snoring, lay Sawyer. Their naked bodies were spooned together with him holding them close. He moved his head closer till his nose raked through long hair and he could kiss the back of the neck. He pushed his growing erection against the firm ass, rubbed his hand down the smooth chest, feeling his arousal, this desire for Sawyer.

Sawyer stirred, moved against Trevor. He turned his head so they could kiss, lazily in their half-asleep state. Then he reached back and ran his hand down Trevor’s side, over the round ass cheek, giving it a squeeze, then pull for Trevor to move against him tighter. Slipping his hand down between them he took Trevor’s erection, toyed with it, then raked a thumb over the wet head making Trevor shudder.

“Do me again” whispered Sawyer as he rolled onto his stomach, guiding Trevor to get on top.

Trevor moved on top of him, savoring the feel of the warm smooth skin against his own. He shifted his legs along side of Sawyer’s and pushed his cock down between the ass cheeks till he was nudging up against Sawyer’s opening.

“Trevor…please; put it in me” Sawyer’s muffled voice came to him, urgent in its pleadings.

Trevor pushed, gently, easily slipping into Sawyer’s depths. Then he fucked, slowly, sinking all the way inside of him, then pulled outward, feeling the tight opening tug at his cock, squeeze the shaft, making him more excited, more aroused, till he was hovering over Sawyer thrusting harder, faster, pushing both to release.

Trevor fucked till both were covered in sweat and he was shuddering with release. He pushed inward with each ejaculation till he was spent. He rolled over next to Sawyer, his cock flaccid, wet and dripping with the last of his load. He heaved for breath for a few seconds then guided Sawyer to roll over where he took him in his mouth. He sucked down on the wet cock, felt it slide through his lips, over his tongue and push at the back of his throat. He moved on it with an urgency, waiting on Sawyer to fill his mouth. He wanted it. He wanted that thick white release to fill his mouth before he swallowed it.

Sawyer’s fingers combed through his hair then held his head as hips drove cock upward, deeper into his mouth. Cum hit the back of his throat then filled his mouth. So much he couldn’t hold it all, and it trickled out of the corners of his mouth and down the wet shaft. He swallowed and swallowed till he drank all he had captured, then he licked Sawyer clean, getting all of it.

Sunlight hit them in the face bringing both awake. Sawyer rolled within Trevor’s arms till facing him, pressing lips to the tip of Trevor’s nose, over one cheek then against lips.

“Good morning” Trevor whispered, wishing he had this every morning, but afraid to say it aloud.

“Good morning” replied Sawyer, whose wishes were even greater than Trevor’s but whose fears were greater still.

“What time do you need to be at the elevator?”

“Eight.”

Trevor looked his watch amazed at how he always woke earlier in the country than he ever did in the city. It was only a little after six.

“You want to run into town and get a biscuit or something? I can drop you off at the water tower on the way back.”

“We have time?”

“It’s only ten minutes to town. If we hurry, shower quickly and get dressed, we’ll have plenty of time.”

They jumped up, Trevor hunting his clothes from the night before while Sawyer pulled out clean clothes from a plastic bin in the corner of the room. They raced into the small bathroom and showered, fighting the urge to do more than merely bathe each other, snickering like mischievous boys.

They rode to town with the windows down, the early morning air cool against their skin. As they came into town, falling in line with other trucks, some going to the same place they were heading. Trevor slowed, let the revs fall, and the truck bounced on its suspension before settling down.

“You want to go through the drive-thru, so no one sees us?” Trevor asked.

“No; let’s go inside and sit down.”

Trucks, SUVs and large American sedans filled the small parking lot. Inside there was a short line weaving though the railing at the order counter and Sawyer fell in behind Trevor taking their place in the line.

Trevor saw the looks from those he recognized, and he fought the urge to say something. They made their way to the front, ordered and shifted over to wait. He saw Sawyer glancing around, his face a picture of defiance, but Trevor knew it would be hard to hold on to that feeling. Sawyer took the tray and Trevor the cups, asking what he wanted to drink.

Filling each cup with ice then soda, Trevor turned to the small dining area to see where Sawyer was seated, and he saw AJ sitting across the room watching them. “Fuck” he uttered, then inhaled deeply and moved across the room to where Sawyer was sitting.

“You see him?” Sawyer asked, his voice not so defiant now.

“Yep. You want to go?”

“No. Fuck it, let’s eat.”

On the road to the elevator, Trevor began to slow as he neared the water tower.

“If you don’t mind, just take me on to the elevator. AJ will run his mouth and tell everyone, so it doesn’t matter” said Sawyer, some of the defiance returned.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just go on.”

 At the elevator, when Sawyer was about to step out, Trevor reached over and took his left wrist.

“Why don’t you leave the bike in the truck and let me come get you when you get off?”

Sawyer smiled, nodded his head yes. He stepped down and before closing the door, “I get off at four” he said, giving Trevor a soft smile.

At fifteen till four, Trevor was parked at the office in front of the elevator. He was anxious, worried about how Sawyer’s day had gone, knowing it couldn’t be good. The only hope that it didn’t get out of control was Charlie. Charlie never said a bad word about anyone, and even stood up for him when the need arose. There were no customers, nor grain trucks lined up at the elevator, so all was quiet, too quiet in Trevor’s estimation.

Just before four, Sawyer came out on the dock followed by AJ, who was talking nonstop. Within a second Charlie came out, and Trevor watched the interaction between the two men while Sawyer stood a few feet away. Their expressions were not hard to read. AJ so furious his face was red, Charlie, calm as ever, but whose expression was like stone, talking at AJ in a way that made him stop talking, and to the side Sawyer who had looked worried, now looked like he could smile any minute. Let Charlie handled it Trevor thought, fighting the urge to join in, go get in AJ’s face. “Bigot” he uttered aloud as he tried to stare down AJ from where he sat. Movement to his right and he saw it was Emily, walking fast across the landing, down the steps and to her SUV. She didn’t look at the dock or out to where he sat. She kept her head down and rushed to take leave of the place. Looking back, he saw Buddy stroll out, say something to Charlie, then made his way down the steps heading to his truck. He looked up, saw Trevor sitting in the truck and he waved as casually as a man could.

Trevor watched as the discussion on the dock was evidently over, AJ storming back inside and Charlie talking to Sawyer, then walking back inside too. Sawyer bolted down the steps and raced across the parking lot. He jumped into the truck, slamming the door a bit too hard.

“Let’s go.”

Trevor had the truck started and eased out of the parking lot and accelerated down the road.

“Should I ask?” asked Trevor.

“I’m sure you can guess.”

“What did Charlie say?”

“He told AJ if anyone got fired today, it wouldn’t be his best worker” replied Sawyer unable to suppress a smile.

“So, he told AJ he’d fire him if he didn’t shut up?”

“Something like that.”

Trevor smiled, settling back on the bench seat.

“We’re going to swing by your place and dump the bike and let you get some clean clothes. Travis and Cathy have invited you over for pizza. She’s going to pick up a couple on the way home from work.”

“Really?”

Trevor caught the surprised tone and looked over at Sawyer, nodding his head.

Trevor pulled into the barn and the two of them made their way inside. The house was quiet, Travis busy doing something on the farm and Cathy still at work in town.

“They won’t be home till after five thirty at the earliest. Go take a shower to get cleaned up.”

Sawyer went into the bathroom, pushing the door closed. He stripped out of his dirty clothes and climbed into the shower. The warm water felt good as the dirt and grime staring to rinse away and the heat seeping into his tired muscles. He had moved seed and five-gallon buckets of chemicals all day and his body ached from the exertion. He held his head under the spray letting his hair hang around his face with the water running through it. He didn’t hear the door ease open or lock when closed. He didn’t notice Trevor standing in front of the vanity removing his clothes.

When the shower curtain moved, the sound of the rings sliding along the metal rod, he jerked around seeing Trevor step into the tub behind him.

“What are you doing?” Sawyer asked in an exasperated tone. “What if one of them shows up early?”

“Relax, we are alone and will be for a while.”

Sawyer wanted to tell Trevor to get out, to argue with him. But he wanted him at that moment more than his caution would admit. He wanted the feel of Trevor’s body against his own, the comforting nature of it, after the way the afternoon had occurred. He turned back to the wall and let Trevor come up behind him, hands on his shoulders, down his back then around his waist as Trevor hugged their bodies together. He felt the increase in his heart rate, even in his breathing as one hand held him across the chest and the other slid down his stomach and manipulated him, took ahold of his growing cock, tugging on it, toying with it still he was erect and shuddering against Trevor’s chest.

Through the spray of water Sawyer felt the warm kiss at the back of the neck, then kisses along his shoulders.

“I’m sorry” whispered Trevor, “I’m sorry you have to deal with this shit. I shouldn’t have…”

“Stop, Trevor; I wanted it…want it” Sawyer uttered as he reached back and held Trevor’s hips, fingers digging into the firm flesh. “Put it in me” he whispered in a low tone.

Trevor eased into Sawyer, gently, with a slow penetration that allowed Sawyer to feel every inch. The stretch of his opening and how a slow fullness developed with their joining. The locking of their bodies together as Trevor pushed into his depths. There was no urgency to reach release. No simple fuck in their joining. Trevor pressed against Sawyer’s back, working his hips with a slow gently rhythm. It made Sawyer rock hard, his own cock rocking back and forth between his thighs as he pushed back trying to get Trevor inside him as deep as he could. He wanted to feel it, really feel it, how Trevor bore into his depths. Trevor hugged him around the chest, while kissing the back of his neck, the side of it, then tugging on his ear. He felt Trevor’s tongue circle around his ear, and he shivered. He felt Trevor push inward, firmly against his ass. Then he felt Trevor take him in hand again, stroking him so slowly it pained him, made his arousal so great every touch was like a charge surging through his body.

“Fuck, I want you” Trevor whispered as he rocked his hips against Sawyer’s ass. His pace increased slowly, just enough to push him closer. He had been worried all day, but now that Sawyer was in his arms, war against his chest, his relief added to his desire, made him so aroused his cock ached for release. He pushed against Sawyer till up against the wall. He pushed inward and increased his rhythm, the pace of their fuck, unable to hold back another second.

“Trevor…” Sawyer uttered, his voice loud in the small bathroom.

Trevor couldn’t control it, far too lost to his desires, this stimulation of his sex, and he pushed inward, all the way and came. Hips working with each ejaculation, he pumped through his load till it was trickling down Sawyer’s thigh and he was spent. Then he turned Sawyer around, not wanted this moment to end and he kissed him. He felt the push back, Sawyer’s want, desire, as strong as his own. He felt the hands on his waist and the nudge of hard cock against his abdomen.

Easing down, Trevor kissed the hollow spot below Sawyer’s neck. He kissed across the upper chest, down to the right nipple where he tongued the hard nub, then bit down on it making Sawyer cry out. He kissed down the flat stomach, around the navel, till hard cock pushed against his cheek and he turned to it, opened his mouth to the head and took it. He wanted it, every inch and he sank his mouth down its length till it pushed at the back of his throat.

“OH, TREVOR” Sawyer exclaimed as Trevor pulled back and swirled tongue around the head.

Trevor sank Sawyer back into his mouth, worked his lips along the hard shaft till he felt it thicken on his tongue. He kept his lips tight around it as it flexed, the head flared out wider then jerked with each ejaculation as his mouth filled with Sawyer’s load.

Out of the shower, Trevor dried Sawyer’s body, running the soft towel over every inch, around every curve. The tall lean body easily wrapped up in the towel. They giggled and shushed each other, as they dressed. Within the small bathroom, they bumped each other as they dressed, Trevor mischievous in little hand grabs. Sawyer came out first, Trevor right behind him, and he froze at the doorway to the kitchen and living area.

“You nasty bastards…and in my house too” said Travis, leaning against the bar in the kitchen. Sawyer stood frozen in place, so embarrassed he turned red. Trevor moved up beside him and suddenly Travis and Trevor were laughing, out loud.

Trevor took Sawyer to work the next morning for he was going to do a short shift at the elevator that Saturday morning. Trevor then spent the day with his parents, who were surprised to see him, glad to have him home. They had lunch in town with Travis and Cathy, Travis giving Trevor knowing looks making the two of them giggle and laugh while the others wondered what the two brothers were up to. On the way home, they went to the grocery store and bought steaks for the grill, Travis putting one extra one in the cart making Trevor smile.

“That’s one too many” their mother stated as she reached in to retrieve it.

“No mom, we’re going to have one guest” said Trevor and he stayed her hand.

Trevor drove up with Sawyer as the flames in the grill were dying down. Travis and his father sitting at the picnic table nearby, sipping beer and talking among themselves. They came to the table and sat opposite each other, Trevor next to his father and Sawyer next to Travis.

“Here” Travis said after getting two beers from a small cooler, holding then out to Trevor and Sawyer. Trevor took one, spun the top off and took a long drink. Sawyer looked at the bottle held out to him, hesitate to take it, glancing over at the boy’s father.

“I’m not twenty-one” Sawyer uttered, worried about drinking in front of their father.

“Neither were we when we started” said Travis, twisting off the top and holding it out to Sawyer again.

Sawyer saw the amused look pass between the boys and their father as he took it, sipping slowly as the boys began to talk with their father, first about the farm, then eventually about Sawyer’s run in with AJ.

It was nearly midnight when Trevor took Sawyer home, and he stayed the night, the two of them going into the early morning hours. Getting up late, Trevor took Sawyer back to Travis and Cathy’s were everyone was meeting for a late breakfast. They spent the afternoon lounging around the television, watching an old movie while trading stories and gossip of the community. It was alien to Sawyer, this time of family, sitting around together in small talk, but the comforting nature of it made him realize how much he had missed with his own life.

Sunday night, back at the trailer, it was a bittersweet time between Trevor and Sawyer. The time together, once more intertwined in sex for a long time. Then the simple act of lying curled up together, the next day holding their separation. Trevor was to leave after lunch to head back to his home in Atlanta.

Trevor struggled at work for a few days, unable to get Sawyer from his every thought, but the rush of new contracts, deadlines looming large in the coming weeks force him to focus. He pushed through the days, then rushed home in the evenings, sometimes late at night after working over, to check his mail. Sawyer and he had resumed the old art of letter writing. The envelopes were thick with pages of news from back home, the gossip around the elevator, Charlie and Travis helping him with getting his driver’s license then buying an old truck from Mr. Gibson over in Hastings, an eighty-five Ford F-150 the old man hadn’t used much in the last twenty years. Trevor, for his part, told of work, the deadlines and late nights. He wrote about his friends, the weekend dinners at one restaurant or another, and the hanging out at a bar afterward, his friends flirting with one guy or another, while not admitting how he had stood alone, not interested in anyone in the bar, his thoughts of another laying elsewhere. In each of their letters there were confessions, admissions of missing each other, but neither bold enough to write of something more. The longing that made each crazy with a sense of loneliness. To write of it, to put into words the longing they felt would bring the separation between them into focus, Trevor in Atlanta and Sawyer, back in the rural countryside.

Trevor knew there was an obvious solution. One he dwelled on every night when alone, and often during the day. He considered it at work when he tried to use music to calm his mind while preparing documents on his computer. On one hand, the solution was so simple, but he felt it was a conceit on his part. To ask Sawyer to move to the city, to give up the little stability he had acquired in what had been a very hard life to date. Could he do it? Was it right to do so? He wondered if Sawyer would give up everything to move to Atlanta. They hadn’t known each other long, and only been together a few times. It was the thing that made it all seem like nonsense. Then he questioned himself, the guy who left the rural countryside for life in the city, someone who had never been in a long-term relationship. He feared his ability to do so.

The weeks passed, letters arriving with regularity, brightening the day of their arrival, only to cause the melancholy feeling to grow worse afterward. Many a night, Trevor sat on his balcony, light spilling out over his shoulder enabling him to reread page after page of Sawyer’s scrawling cursive writing. Thanksgiving approached along with a big deadline the following Monday and Trevor had to stay in Atlanta, working through the long weekend to make it. It was a crack in the dam. Those long days with only four of them in the firm working toward their deadline while their families gathered for large dinners. Trevor felt a longing, a loneliness he had never felt before. He sent letters to Sawyer on Friday and Saturday, unable to wait on replies. He hinted at what he wanted, circled around the notion, wondering if Sawyer would respond to it. He was unaware how much Sawyer struggled with the same fears, the flip side of the same coin. Unaware how his hinted suggestion wasn’t enough to pierce the wall of trepidation that existed within Sawyer.

December arrived with only one more deadline remaining. Trevor and his other three team members had been told to hit the deadline then take a long break at Christmas. They would be given the week of Christmas and New Year’s off; the firm officially closed the time between the two holidays. It made the month drag by slowly, each short day and long night another day of anxious impatience.

Sawyer got a cell phone early that month and they talked nearly every night, but it was obvious to both they couldn’t say the things they really wanted, and the letters continued. The letters had fewer pages but what they contained was more intimate, confession to the other that stood at the very edge of saying what needed to be said. There were times Trevor felt aggravated, flustered Sawyer wouldn’t catch his hints and make the bold confession he hadn’t been able to do himself. He chastised himself for it, knowing he was the one who should make the first move, the one who would be bringing someone into his realm, and he knew Sawyer was unable to ask for such a thing.

The last Friday before his holiday vacation, he sat at his desk unable to focus on anything. Just before lunch, his manager came into the open office, speaking to one of the others, shutting off a desk light left on, then sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Having a hard time focusing?”

“Yeah; sorry.”

“Why don’t you shut it down and head on out. There is nothing to do that can’t wait till after the first.”

Trevor thanked him, shut down his computer, turned off the desk light and raced out. He hurried home to pack. He had been going to pack that night and leave the next morning, not wanting to tackle rush hour traffic on a Friday evening. But able to leave early made him frantic to get going.

He threw a suitcase on the bed and packed jeans, shirts, underwear and his toiletry case. He pulled out the gym bag from his closet that had all the presents for his family. The one for Sawyer tucked safely in his suitcase where no one would find it. His heart raced in anticipation of giving it to him. He set everything at the door and started to make a loop around his apartment making sure all lights were off and nothing was left on. Coming out of the bathroom, his cell phone rang in his pocket. It as Travis.

“Hey, what’s up?” answered Trevor.

“You still getting home sometime tomorrow?”

“Actually, I’m packed up now. My manager let us leave at noon, so I’m about to hit the road.”

“Good…” replied Travis and Trevor suddenly caught a worrying tone but before he could really consider it, Travis added, “come on to our place. I told mom you were staying here.”

“I bet she didn’t like that.”

“Not at first but I told her we’d have Christmas here. I’ll see you when you get here and be careful.”

“Will do, little brother.”

The drive out of Atlanta had been a nightmare till he got below Peachtree City, then the interstate opened up. He got to Montgomery right at five o’clock and keep the little hatch in the left lane hoping to get through before the traffic got too bad. South of city, now on Interstate 65, the familiar exits rolled by as he fell in line with some other cars traveling well above the speed limit. Fort Deposit, Greenville, Georgiana, Garland, Owassa and finally Evergreen, where he rolled off on the second exit heading west and home.

For an hour in rode along the narrow road having to use the headlights, as night had settled over the countryside. The roads became more familiar, every turn and roll in grade, till he finally pulled into the gravel drive at his brother’s place. Around the house and pulling up to the carport he saw Travis come out of the screen porch.

When he stepped out of the car, Travis was by his side with a look he knew was one of concern.

“What?”

“Leave your stuff in the car and lock it up. We need to ride over to Monroe.”

Trevor knew Monroe meant hospital, the nearest to their rural community.

“What’s happened?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.”

Travis pulled up to the entry to let Trevor out before parking. On the way he had explained how AJ and his brother-in-law had jumped Sawyer the night before. Caught him coming out of the grocery store and dragged him around to the service drive in back. No matter how many times Travis told Trevor he was going to be fine, just beat up, Trevor couldn’t control his anger and frustration at how such a thing could be still be happening.

“Has anything been done about AJ and that brother-in-law?” Trevor had asked.

“Yeah, the sheriff found them this morning passed out at AJ’s place. They’re in County now, locked up without bail” Travis had replied.

Trevor raced into low brick building and down the corridor looking for the room number Travis had given him. The door was ajar, and he could hear familiar voices within. He eased into the room, holding his breath not sure what to expect, even after Travis told him what to expect. Charlie and his dad sat along the far wall. The beep of monitors continued as the two men stopped talking, watching Trevor come in, waiting to see how he responded.

Sawyer lay in bed fast asleep, A black and swollen right eye, another bruise on the left cheek along with cuts and scratches on his face, a few stitched together. The left arm was in a plastic cast, Trevor knowing it was fractured.

“Oh Sawyer” Trevor mumbled balling up his fist to remain stoic.

Charlie stood and came to him, surprising him with a hug. They made their superficial greetings, told him about Sawyer’s condition, how he was going to be released the next morning, then rolled into small talk, asking about his work and the drive down. It was a way to keep him from thinking of it. Travis came in with cans of soda, holding one out to Trevor.

“We’ll eat something later, when you feel like it” said Travis and he leaned against wall, watching his brother ease into a chair and pull it close to the bed.

Instead of sitting back down, Charlie came to the foot of the bed. “Trevor, I’m going to go. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

A minute later, his dad stood up and told them he’d see them tomorrow, whispered something to Travis before easing out the door. Travis took a chair on the other side of the bed.

“Trevor?”

“Yeah, Travis.”

“We’ll bring him to the house, but him up in the other guest room.”

Trevor looked up at his brother and tried to respond but the words wouldn’t come. The two brothers then sat, making small talk, Trevor keeping his eyes on Sawyer, waiting for him to wake, and Travis sitting patiently, there for his brother. After an hour a nurse came in to check on Sawyer which caused him to stir awake. He angled the bed up into a sitting position while smiling weakly at Trevor.

“You’re not supposed to be until tomorrow” Sawyer whispered; his voice gravelly.

“My manager let me leave at noon.  Are you feeling better?”

“Yes…some…still sore.”

“That eye looks bad.”

“It looks worse than it is; the doctor said the eye wasn’t damaged.”

“And the arm? How long will you have to wear the cast?”

“A few weeks I think.”

“What happened? I mean…” asked Trevor, suddenly sorry he asked.

“I don’t really remember. I came out of the grocery store, put the bags in then truck and then…the next thing I know I’m on the ground, it is darker than it should be and I’m getting the shit beat out of me. Oh shit, my truck.”

“Don’t worry, Charlie took your keys and will take it to your place” said Travis.

It was nearly ten o’clock when Trevor and Travis were sitting in a fast food place, the nearest place to get something to eat. Trevor had refused to leave till Sawyer was asleep once again. They sat opposite each other in a booth, eating in silence. Some teenagers were huddled up on the opposite side of the dining area, laughing and joking around.

“Okay, brother, what are you thinking” asked Travis, wadding up the wrapper from his burger.

“What do you mean?” replied Trevor.

“You’ve been plotting all night, coming up with some plan. If I didn’t know better, a plan that probably has been rolling around in that head of yours for a while now.”

“Travis…you don’t…”

“Bullshit” Travis cut Trevor off, then leaning in close and lowering his voice, “you going to ask that boy to move back to Atlanta, aren’t ya?”

Trevor smiled guiltily, knew his face turned red, as he considered how his brother was the one person he couldn’t bullshit.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe…my ass” replied Travis, leaning back and laughing. For the first time that night, Trevor laughed too.

Voices of a nurse then Sawyer woke Trevor, He blinked his eyes open and looked around lost for a moment then remembered he was at the hospital. Sawyer was sitting up, breakfast and juice on the overbed table.

“Hey, sleepy head” Sawyer joked, his voice sounding normal.

“Hey…anyone else here?”

“Your dad; he showed up before daylight. He’s at the cafeteria now.”

“Sawyer, the doctor will be by soon and from what they said, you can leave after that. Do you have a ride and someone to stay with you for a…”

“Yes” Trevor cut the nurse off, and she smiled, nodding knowingly.

“Good. Take care Sawyer and let me know if you need anything before you leave” the nurse replied, then left the room.

“Trevor? You can’t stay at my place; you have family that wants you around for Christmas and…”

“You’re coming with me to Travis and Cathy’s and stay there.”

“Huh…but…”

“I wouldn’t argue Sawyer; my sons are stubborn cusses. Best do as they say” Trevor’s dad interrupted as he eased into the room.

It was two days till Christmas Eve and Trevor waited on Sawyer more than necessary as he recuperated. There were family dinners each night, the table crowded by the six of them. Travis and Trevor told tall tales of their adventures as teen boys, then the mischief they got into when older. There were stories of uncles and aunts and cousins, and stories of past holidays. Christmas Eve found them around the table once again, a large ham prominent in the middle of it surrounding by other dishes. Dinner was finished and Cathy brought a red velvet cake to the table, letting her mother-in-law cut slices for everyone while she refilled glasses.

With music playing in the background, everyone more than sated, Sawyer looked around the room, realizing he no longer felt like he was holding his breath. No longer an outsider. Trevor’s hand was on his leg and when Trevor laughed at something Travis said there was the gentlest squeeze. He saw how their mother pretended to be shocked at things they said, shaking her head while telling them how bad they were, all the while stifling a smile.

Then a moment of silence, everyone just enjoying this moment of family, and Travis leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“There is something I need to tell you guys” said Travis and Cathy was smiling broadly. “We’re going to have a baby.”

The night exploded into a new aspect of family, the sudden questions of when and when did they find out. Sawyer saw Travis and Trevor’s parents beam with excitement, their mother the most, suddenly giving advice and wanting to help make plans on what they would need for a nursery. He realized how normal this moment was, something families experienced all the time. He wondered if he could every feel this way, not like now, a part of someone else’s family, but a part of one he was truly apart. He didn’t mean to do it, but he looked at Trevor, and trying not to think of it. He couldn’t consider it. When he turned back to the table, he saw Travis looking at him, grinning from ear to ear.

When the night finally came to an end, Travis and Cathy turned in, Trevor in the bathroom, Sawyer was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. The house was too quiet, his mind swirling too many thoughts to keep them straight. He heard the bathroom door open and wondered if Trevor would go on to bed or sit up late again. Trevor had stayed in the other bed, telling Sawyer he was scared he’d hurt him if they slept together. Roll over on the injured arm or something. Therefore, he was surprised to see his door swing open and Trevor come in and slip beneath the blankets next to him.

“Can I sleep with you tonight? I hate sleeping alone, knowing you’re in here.”

“Yes” Sawyer replied as he felt Trevor move up next to him and slowly slide an arm over his chest hugging him.

Warmth built up between them, their breathing fell into a rhythm and Sawyer felt Trevor’s fingers move over his chest.

“Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you come back to Atlanta with me?”

“What? Come for a visit?”

“NO!” Trevor exclaimed, fighting to keep his voice down. “To live with me. To be with me.”

Sawyer held his breath, not believing Trevor was asking him this thing, something he had dared only dream about but never utter aloud.

“Well? I mean, if you don’t want…”

“Yes. I like you Trevor. More than I could ever admit. I never…” Sawyer fell silent, then turned to Trevor, kissing him on the lips. “I couldn’t image a nicer thing than to go back to Atlanta with you.”

The next morning, it was obvious Trevor was happier than usual, and Sawyer seemed not to hurt at all. They gathered around the table for a late breakfast, then moved to the living area to open gifts. Sawyer started for the bedroom, when Travis stopped him.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to excuse myself. I mean…I didn’t buy presents for you and…”

“Get your ass back in here” exclaimed Travis.

“Travis, it’s Christmas; watch that mouth” their mother exclaimed coming into the living room carrying a stack of small boxes all wrapped in colorful paper, with large bows on top.

Sawyer eased into a chair and Trevor sat on the floor at his feet. Across the room Cathy sat in the other chair with Travis at her feet and Sawyer blushed at the similarity. The boy’s mother and father sat on the sofa and for a moment no one moved, letting a moment of silence fall over the room.

“Trevor…Trevor” Sawyer tapped him on the shoulder, then leaned down close so the others couldn’t hear. “I got you something but its at my place…”

“Shhh. It’s okay Sawyer. Besides this isn’t a trade or a bartering. Relax, okay” Trevor replied, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Sawyer blushed, worse when he saw Trevor’s parents looking at him.

Gifts were passed around, everyone with three before them, even Sawyer. They opened them one at a time. There were new shirts and pants and Sawyer found two gifts to him were the same as the boys. He saw Trevor’s mother and Cathy receive jewelry, earrings and a necklace, and Trevor’s father received new clothes and work gloves. He felt embarrassed but couldn’t’ hold back the enjoyment of the morning in seeing others get gifts. He had one more gift remaining, the smallest box; the one from Trevor. His hands shook as he tore away the gift wrap. He didn’t notice the others watching, only Trevor shifting around to face him. He opened the box within and found a watch, nicer than any he had every seen up close. The second hand ticked around the face, passing the old Roman numerals that circled it.

“Trevor…this is too much; I can’t take this.”

“Sawyer, you don’t question gifts” Travis cut in, his voice sounding good natured, but Sawyer saw he was serious.

Then Sawyer saw the little tag tied to a thick thread that was tucked beneath the insert holding the watch.

Look under the watch

Sawyer fumbled with the watch, removed it from the box, and slipped it on. With Trevor watching, he slipped the insert out and lifted the thread, discovering a ring tied to the other end.

“Trevor…”

“Oh man” Travis voice carried across the silent room, then Trevor’s mother’s voice, soft and calm.

“That is nice, Trevor. Go on, Sawyer, put it on. Let’s see how it looks.”

Trevor rose on knees and moved up between Sawyer’s, taking the ring from him. He untied the string and holding Sawyer’s hand, gently slid it on the ring finger. “I was afraid it was too much, but when you agreed to come back to Atlanta with me, I knew it would be something to show how much I care about you.”

“Trevor…"

Trevor, unconcerned with everyone watching leaned up and kissed Sawyer, then said he loved him in a hushed quiet voice.

That evening, Cathy and Travis went with his parents to visit relatives, letting Trevor and Sawyer have some time alone. Sawyer was frustrated, his injuries preventing him from being able to show Trevor how he felt. He sat on the edge of the bed, shirt removed, in just a pair of boxers. He wanted the night to be special. He wanted it to be erotic, pleasurable to Trevor, giving himself over to his pleasure. Instead he sat with his arm in the cast feeling ridiculous.

Trevor came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. In the bedroom, he closed the door, pulled the towel loose and tossed it over a chair, then came to Sawyer, going to his knees between Sawyer’s legs.

“You okay. Does it hurt?”

“Not much” Sawyer whispered as he watched Trevor kissed his bruised hand sticking out the cast, then the bandaged place on his chest, lips moving over it gently, barely feeling the touch. Trevor moved to his right nipple and kissed it, moved up to his neck, lips trailing up the side of it, till tugging on the earlobe.

“Tell me if I hurt you” Trevor whispered as he kissed his ear, the side of his face near the black eye, whispering again “I’m sorry” and Sawyer knew it was about him being hurt. Trevor looked at him then pressed their lips together, and Sawyer opened to him, his passion overwhelming.

Sawyer felt Trevor’s hand slide up along his thighs. Felt them tug on the waist band of his boxers and he raised up, letting Trevor pull them down his legs and ease them from each foot. He felt his sex, the stirrings of his arousal, even though he hadn’t been touched yet. Then he felt Trevor’s hand push his legs apart and the feel of lips on his cock. They moved over his growing erection till it stood up hard between his thighs. Trevor guided him to lay back, with a hand behind his back helping him ease down on the bed. Then he felt his cock enveloped in a warm slickness he knew could only be a mouth on his cock. Trevor took him, all the way and he closed his eyes focusing his entire being on the sensation.

Trevor moved on his cock gently, slowly, and he didn’t think he could take much more. He pushed Trevor off, feeling how it flexed with his aroused state.

“Not yet” Sawyer uttered as he tried to slow his breathing. He sat up and watched Trevor kiss his inner thighs, then looked up questioningly. “Get on the bed.”

Trevor eased up on the bed and lay next to Sawyer, who looked at the long lean body he wanted to touch in every way. He shifted around and up on the bed, getting on his knees.

“Hold still, okay?” Sawyer asked and Trevor nodded.

Sawyer moved over Trevor, sat down on Trevor’s growing erection and moved his ass over it. He wanted to feel it rubbed over him, to touch him there. He wanted to feel how it would arouse him, make him want Trevor, not just on some emotional level, but physically too. He wanted Trevor to touch him; to be inside him, sinking deeply into his body.

“Sawyer, careful” said Trevor, taking him by the waist.

Sawyer rose and took Trevor with his good hand, held him up as he moved back down. There was the stretching of his opening, then the tug from Trevor sliding in as he moved down. He sat all the way down, feeling the fullness of penetration. Trevor’s hands moved on his legs, up his stomach and across his chest. They caressed him, made his skin feel more alive. He shivered with every touch.  Eyes closed, moving up and down, he felt the hands moved down his chest, over his stomach till fondling his own erection. Fingers toyed with his balls, tugged on the sac while other fingers rubbed along his hard cock. He felt them move along its length, then rub around the head. He cried out Trevor’s name as he moved up and down faster.

Trevor began to breath harder, to push up with every move down by Sawyer. He felt his body tighten, every muscle tense, as his want for Sawyer, his need, pushed him to release. Cum spattered him in the face, then over the chest, as Sawyer moved on his cock roughly, rocking up and down roughly, as he came first. Cum pooled on Trevor, trickled down his face, surrounding him with Sawyer’s scent, the smell of his sex. He pushed up and came. shuddering with his release.

Trevor cleaned up, then carried a wet bath cloth to Sawyer where he wiped him down. Sawyer lay on his side with the arm in the cast up. Trevor slipped in behind him, carefully slipping an arm over his chest hugging them together. He loved the feel of warmth that developed between them, the slight undulation of breathing or the ticklish feeling of a hairy calf rubbing against his own. He was soon hard again, his cock pressed against Sawyer’s firm ass.

Sawyer snuggled up against him tighter, whispering for him to do it. Trevor kissed the back of his neck then eased into him, slowly, gently, inch after inch, till pressed against Sawyer’s ass. He fucked slowly, not caring how long it took to get off. He didn’t care, for he wanted it to last all night. He slid his hand down Sawyer’s torso and took him in hand. He got him hard, then stroked in the same slow pace. Their moans and heavy breathing fell into the same rhythm as he worked his hips.

The bed rocked gently with their sex, barely making a sound. Nor did either of them cry out, as Trevor continued to slow fuck Sawyer. They moved blindly against each, eyes closed, only the sense of touch to guide them. It continued for a long time till it was too much to bear. Trevor felt his arousal increase as his cock become too sensitive. He held tight to Sawyer and shuddered with every release. His hand hadn’t stopped stroking Sawyer and he felt the flex of release, then the wet in his hand as Sawyer moaned softly next to him.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. Trevor packed up Sawyer’s few belongings while he sat watching, having agreed to let Trevor do the work. There was the trip to Charlie’s house where Sawyer stammered around about needing to quit till Trevor stepped up beside him and told Charlie their plans. Sawyer moved out the following weekend, turning the trailer over to Mr. Simpson so he could advertise it for rent. Sawyer’s old truck, all loaded up, was put into the barn, and he piled into the bedroom with Trevor, the small room now cramped but neither seemed to mind.

There were family dinners that went late into the night, a night out for a movie and a day of joyriding around the community, showing Sawyer things he had not seen as if it were important in some way. Come the Friday after New Year’s, Trevor pulled out on the road to head back to Atlanta and behind him, the old Ford truck that would follow him all the way.

18 Months Later

Trevor woke from his nap, the warm breeze blowing in through the open doors. Sawyer lay by his side, naked, fast asleep. No one ever looked so innocent as Sawyer asleep. The long eyelashes, the smooth baby face and button nose made him look younger than twenty-one, a birthday celebrated four days before when they first arrived on the island. Trevor raked the hair from his forehead, feeling the softness of it, noting how the sun had put blonde streaks in it. He still debated whether, or not he liked it cut short on the sides as he remembered the boy he first met at the elevator with the thick floppy head of hair. He eased off the bed, slipped on the boxers that had been tossed on the floor and went out into the bright sun of the afternoon. Before him lay the bay and islands of Santorini. Around the small place they rented lay the white stucco of other houses fixed into the steep slope. Their time was nearing its end for they were to fly out the next day to return home back in Atlanta.

The sun felt good on this bare upper body, and he stretched his arms and twisted his back, feeling the tightness leave his muscles. Sitting on the built-in bench he rested his chin on his arm draped over its back and watched a cruise ship heading west into the setting sun. He watched the other tourists below. Some were sunning themselves, others under small umbrellas drinking wine or something more potent. He saw the tiny dots of tourist down on the beach to his left, moving in and out of the dark blue water. Closing his eyes, moments of the last two weeks came to him. Picture perfect moments of the two of them landing in Rome, touring the city, seeing the hand of some imaginary god reaching out to man, fingers not quite touching. Standing in the ruins of the Colosseum amazed at the ingenuity of man, and his unspeakable cruelty.

Then there was Florence, Bologna, till they arrived at their next destination: Venice. It awed them, the shear beauty of the sinking city and they wondered how much longer man could hold on to it. A short flight later they came to Athens where they wandered through ancient ruins of the people that influenced their own country more than any religion, with ideals of a republic that seemed on the brink of ruin by the old prejudices, and those old religions. Another flight landed them in this place overrun with tourists, but still, among the stark whiteness of the manmade against the rough crater walls of a long dead volcano, it was paradise just the same.

But the strongest memory, the one that made him smile even now, wasn’t any place special. It was a place foreign tourist wouldn’t seek out. Didn’t even know of its existence. There were no grand cathedrals, or ruins of a past greatness, or a view of the Mediterranean or Tyrrhenian Seas. On their drive through Italy, they had gotten off the main road wanting to see the countryside and got lost. They drove along narrow roads not worried about how far from their planned path they had traveled, till the sun was low in the western sky and hunger and a place to rest beckoned them.

Driving over the rolling hills and around curves dangerously sharp, they came upon a small village, the buildings clustered close together. Sawyer had yelled stop, not knowing why this place, among all the ones they had passed. There were cars parked around the perimeter, old Alfa Romeos, Fiats and the occasional Lancia. They pulled in next to an old Peugeot that looked out of place among the other cars and started toward the center of the village. They could hear people in some celebration. Laughter and loud voices mixed with some traditional song. Passing between two old stone-faced buildings, so narrow they bumped shoulders while walking side by side they came into a small courtyard. Sawyer was the first to see the celebration taking place and he froze, looking on in awe. It was a party after a wedding, the bride still in her white dress, dancing with an older man, her father-in-law they would discover later. They walked along the front of the buildings avoiding the central courtyard where the party was spread out. They found a small restaurant, but the door was locked. A couple of buildings further along they came to a small shop and once again they found the door locked.

“Everyone is at the celebration” came a feminine voice in an English obviously a second language. When Trevor and Sawyer turned, they saw a young woman, about their age, with long dark hair wearing a beautiful red dress.

“Oh, I see. I guess we should go” said Trevor and he saw Sawyer sadden at the prospect of leaving.

“You’re lost?”

“Not really; we just took a different path. We wanted to see the countryside.”

She laughed, then reached out and touched Sawyer’s arm, just a couple of fingers. “Well you’re definitely in the right place. Come, join us.”

“What? No, we can’t…”

“It’s a celebration for everyone here to join. My cousin finally said yes, so the whole town is out. Come on, you’re here, so now part of the town.”

“You sure this is okay…”

“Trevor!  She said we’re invited” Sawyer cut him off.

“Trevor? A nice name, and your name?”

“Sawyer.”

“I’m Serena.”

She led them to a long table, to where an older woman sat. Long hair tied up in a bun and allowed to turn gray. She was dressed in a light yellow that accentuated her skin tone. Her dark eyes shone brightly as Trevor and Sawyer took seats across from her. Serena sat next to the older woman and spoke to her in their native language. They laughed and the older woman reached across the table touching Sawyer’s hand while speaking Italian.

“She says welcome and wants to…” Serena stopped, flushed red as she asked the woman something. Looking back at Trevor and Sawyer, she blushed again, then looked at the older woman again. “Viola wants to know if you are together…partners?”

Sawyer looked shocked, his face turning red, but Trevor laughed. He saw the look on Viola’s face, and knew it wasn’t in judgment. “Yes” he replied, making Viola smile, then begin to talk fast, her flow of words unintelligible, but beautiful to the ear. Serena smiled then began to translate.

“She said her Uncle Vincenzo was like you. He lived here with his Filippo and she loved them dearly. At celebrations, such as this one, he would dance with her till they were breathless.”

Viola pushed her chair back and stood, revealing her small stature, but she still commanded the attention of those around her. Trevor and Sawyer saw how the others watched as she came around the table. She walked with a straight back, and the look of a mischievous child.

“She wants the cute Sawyer to dance with her like her uncle used to do when she was a little girl” said Serena, suppressing a laugh as she translated.

“What, I can’t dance…not like that” exclaimed Sawyer pointing at the others dancing around the center of the courtyard. Serena translated to Viola who shrugged, made a gesture toward Sawyer’s feet then toward the others dancing, while speaking quickly, her words flowing freely.

“She said most of them can’t either. Just don’t step on her feet” translated Serena.

Trevor laughed as Viola guided Sawyer to stand, till he towered over her. She led him to the center of the courtyard, and they awkwardly began to dance. They moved slower than the others, Sawyer stiff in Viola’s arms, but after one round in the small space, they fell into a rhythm, their feet moving faster. Viola smiled, then laughed out loud. Sawyer followed her lead and laughed along with her.

Trevor watched Sawyer dance with Viola, smiling at how much pleasure was derived from such a thing. Sawyer was different now and he noticed how easily he smiled, laughed out loud, and as now, enjoyed life, usually the simplest of things. Like dancing with Viola in a small Italian village. Trevor danced with Serena, then at Viola’s insistence he dance with Sawyer, with Viola clapping her hands at the edge of the circle. They danced and laughed and whispered words to each other not meant for others. They danced till the sky grew dark and strings of light came on, and they continued to dance long into the night.