Infirmier

Justin raced down the mountain road as fast as he could, stumbling and tripping frequently. He had been sick for three days and worried it was more than a mere cold. It didn’t help that rain began to fall, big drops that seemed to soak down to the bone. He didn’t think things could get worse. The nearest drug store was miles away and he knew the only way he could make it was to catch the bus that made a stop every few days down the mountain. He just had to hurry to catch it and he could get something to take care of the fever and help him sleep.

Three days ago, while rummaging in the woods he began to feel ill, to cough and sneeze. He pushed on with his search till dark, digging mushrooms, roots and finding some berries at the abandoned Miller place just over the ridge. By the time he got back to his cabin, it was dark, and he was stumbling with a feeling of imbalance. As hungry as he was, he was too tired to prepare anything to eat, so he broke off some bread and went to bed. The next morning, he felt worse and stayed in bed till hunger forced him to get up.

When he woke the next day, he felt a little better after staying in bed, but he struggled to do anything. Preparing something to eat too a huge effort and there was firewood to split and he needed to feed the few chickens he kept cooped up behind the cabin in a lean-to. By nightfall he was feeling weak and feverish. Looking around the small single room cabin, illuminated only with a sole kerosene lantern, he felt his isolation, his loneliness. He was twenty-two years old next month, and all alone. His mother had died ten years ago and seven years ago his father got up one morning, told him he was going into town for cigarettes and walked down the mountain, never to be seen again. After a year of struggling in school while trying to take care of himself, he dropped out and isolated himself on the mountain, finding his own way.

Now he was afraid of how isolated he had become, as he jogged down the steep road trying to get to the bus stop. It was the only stop for miles, one that took run-aways off to distant cities or someone for a job, one that let them escape the hard life of the mountain, or it brought someone back, broken, unable to make it, forced to return to the only place they could call home. There had been many times he had been tempted to get on a bus and let it take him somewhere. Anywhere that was away from the mountain. He didn’t hate the mountain, just the life he was forced to live. He had taken the bus a couple of times, riding into Asheville where he shopped for clothes or supplies, using the few dollars he earned cutting firewood or working some construction site where a vacation house would occupy, pushing more and more of the locals off the mountain.

Fox Squirrel Road snaked down the mountain, its narrow-paved ribbon cracked and broken, missing guardrails on far too many sections, and Justin struggled to keep his footing as he neared the last curve. The road teed into Highway 425 where the bus stop was located. Rain fell harder, cutting his visibility as it ran down his face and soaked his clothes. Rounding the last curve, the stop sign came into view, and the back of the bus pulling away.

“NO…wait…please” he cried out, each word getting softer, lower, more desperate.

He should have stopped and went back. It would be four days before the next bus troubled to come up on the mountain, but he couldn’t stop, letting his forward momentum take him to the small bus stop sign by the road. It was dented by a shotgun blast and leaned over toward the ditch, ready to fall from sight. He stood in the rain, and looked down the road, to the place it curved out of sight, empty of any bus.

The frustration of it, this constantly being knocked back on his heels became overwhelming and he struggled not to yell or to cry. He stood, hands hanging at his sides, in defeat. There was nothing to do but make the walk back up the mountain, but at that moment, the walk seemed too much to handle. He dropped to his knees on the shoulder of the road, then back on his ass. Arms wrapped around his knees, he held his head down wondering if things could get worse.

Dave drove along the unfamiliar mountain road cautiously. After living in Asheville for a month, he still had not got use to driving these narrow, curving roads. Usually he looked forward to the drives to the clinics in the small mountain towns, but with the rains that had settled in over the mountains, the drive was slow and difficult. His new position at the hospital in Asheville had been a surprise for he didn’t think he was in the running for it and had begun to think Winston-Salem was going to be the place he would be residing for some time to come. But the offer had come, and six weeks ago he packed up and moved to Asheville. It was a smaller hospital and his first position involved him traveling to clinics to assist with severe outbreaks of the flu or other diseases that could get out of control if not handled quickly and efficiently.

He found a one-bedroom apartment in town, one with a view of its small skyline nestled in the valley. For two weeks he explored the city, then its surroundings. For the last four weeks he worked as an RN, putting those years in college to use.

His friends thought he was making a mistake taking an offer in such a small city, one dependent of tourism, something too seasonal for those that relied on it. But he wanted a change, especially after the breakup with Emily. They had met in college and both had gotten positions at the hospital in Winston-Salem. But there were problems, not the least was his own feelings. Emily sensed it, something amiss in the way he pulled back. He told himself he loved her, seriously considered her the one, but there was something wrong and he knew where the problem lay. Squarely at his feet.

He found himself looking at other guys, something he had not done since his Sophomore year in college after his fling with Bobby. He had considered it just experimenting, doing the college thing of trying anything and everything, and Bobby and he did try. But he had felt like he was supposed to do the normal thing, settle down and get married, have some kids, and a dog, and a house in the suburbs. But the notion seemed wrong in some way. He had responded to another nurse’s flirtation and found himself being tempted, and when Emily found out that was it. She was gone the next day. When they met a week later, she admitted to knowing he was attracted to other men, something he initially tried to deny. But she was right, and he finally admitted it. The next day he began to search for a new job, unable to face Emily at the hospital day after day.

He still found himself checking out a woman at the grocery store or the pub down the street or at the hospital, but within a few seconds the attraction faded, and he found his eyes wandering to some guy. The bartender at the pub with the shaggy black hair and tattoos up his right arm, the stock boy at the grocery store with the close cropped hair and ice blue eyes, the guy who lived downstairs at the apartment complex who was out every day walking his terrier. He knew he was bisexual. There were attractions for both sexes he could not deny, but of late, the strongest were toward other guys. He had gone to this gay bar on the north side of downtown and sat along the back wall watching the other patrons. He watched how they interacted, the flirtations with each other, and he found himself wondering why he wasn’t at the bar doing the same.

But he liked the guys that seemed to be different, even within the gay bar. The ones with a bit of mystery or maybe just some innocence in manner. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but when he saw some guy at the periphery of a group, or alone, wandering down a sidewalk, maybe some book in hand, he felt an attraction toward them more so than toward anyone else.

The female voice of sat-nav interrupted his radio telling him to turn left in one quarter of a mile. He swore she was wrong, had to be, for as the turn approached, the road looked worse than the one he was one. Narrower, not as maintained, with small trees hanging over head. He slowed and turned as directed and eased his speed back up, wipers on high, and followed the narrow road up the side of the mountain. He was trying to get back home after being away since yesterday morning. He was making a loop through the western mountains, hitting three towns, so there was no backtracking, no chance of driving a familiar road.

He slowed time and time again for hairpin curves, blind curves and rough sections that caused him to pull into the middle of the road. He felt the grade change, from upward along the side of the mountain, to downward, and he had to tap the brakes to keep from gaining too much speed.

The road curved around a rock outcropping and leveled off for about a quarter mile. He eased along since the wipers struggled to clear the windshield, afraid to relax, knowing if something pulled out in front of him, he’d have trouble seeing it in time. About half-way along the straight he saw something on the side of the road and at first thought it was someone’s garbage, just a large bag tossed on the shoulder of the road. He frowned at the idea for he had seen it far too often, the way people just tossed their garbage on the side of the road.

He was about to pass when he saw the bag move, then a head raise up, and he nearly ran off the road, shocked to discover it was someone sitting on the shoulder. He looked quickly to the side as he passed and saw it was a guy sitting there soaking wet and dressed entirely too lightly for the weather. He stopped in the road and looked in the mirror. The guy was still sitting, and he wondered why someone would be out here in this weather. He put his car in reverse and eased back till along side him. With the window lowered he saw the bus stop sign.

“Hey…hey man, you okay?”

It seemed to take a long time for the guy to raise his head, so slowly did it come up. He saw the pale whiteness of the face, the slackness in it, and knew the guy needed help.

“No” came a weak reply.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I tried to catch the bus into town…to get medicine. But I missed it” the guy replied, and his head fell back down.

The guy was sick and needed help. The empathy that made him go into nursing, the same empathy his mother possessed, caused him to forget everything else. His car parked in the road, the ruminations of his current situation, being single for the first time in nearly three years or how he might normally look upon this guy, with his dark hair hanging wetly over his face. Car put in park, he jumped out and helped the guy stand.

“What’s wrong? You think you have the flu?”

“No…no, no, I think it’s just a bad cold, but…”

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten anything?”

“I don’t know.”

He led the guy to the passenger side and helped him into the seat, leaning it back to put him in a restful position.

“Where do you live?  Hey…come on, wake up. Where do you live?”

The guy remained asleep, unresponsive to his questions. He had medication in the trunk, but he knew this called for more than just medication. He saw the tattered clothes, the rough haircut and the dirt under the nails. The guy was impoverished and probably hungry. Back behind the wheel he checked the sat-nav and found it was only eighteen miles to Asheville, but knew on foot and in this weather, it might as well be a thousand miles.

He knew his friends would think him crazy. To pick up someone on the side of the road and take them to his apartment. It was beyond crazy, but to his mind, the person who became a nurse, it was also the right thing to do. He put the car in drive and eased up to speed.

It was late afternoon, the dark grey giving way to even greater darkness. He struggled to wake his anonymous passenger but managed to get him awake enough to stumble up the stair and into his apartment. He led him through the small living area and into his bedroom. The apartment was small, only one bedroom, and the only thing to do was put the guy in his bed. But first he had to get him out of the wet clothes and cleaned up. He led the guy into the bathroom and eased him down on the side of the tub.

“Hey, you with me?  Come on, we have to get you out of these wet clothes, or you’ll be far worse.”

There was an unintelligible mumbling and a brief opening of eyes before the guy let his head fall forward. Dave worked quickly, knowing the guy was trying to fall back asleep. He undid the buttons of the shirt, unable to ignore the mix of buttons. The shirt fell open revealing a lean torso, almost skinny, with a matt of hair in the center of the chest. A trail of hair from the stomach led down into the old worn jeans. Jacob looked at the body, so worried about his state with a sickly pallor that he couldn’t focus on its masculine nature. He stooped in front of him and pulled each shoe off, noticing one had the sole glued on with some type of white adhesive. He slipped each sock off, holes in both at the toes, then pushed him to sit up against the wall as he worked to undo the jeans.

“Come on, stand up for me…stand…that’s it” Dave pleaded with his anonymous guest till he had him standing in the tub. He worked the jeans down, struggling with each leg, then lifting each foot to get them off. The guy had on white boxers. Cheap, ill fitting, too baggy in every way. Tugging them down they fell to the guy’s feet and he didn’t bother trying to get them free.

He ran the water till it warmed, then cut on the shower. The guy moaned and grunted when the water cascaded down on him and he pushed at Dave to get out from underneath it.

“Relax. I’m just getting you cleaned up. Relax” said Dave as he guided him under the spray. He soaped up the body, noticing how he could feel the rib cage, the line of vertebrae along the spine, and arms and ass firmer than he anticipated. There was a flat firmness of the stomach that surprised him more. The guy was used to physical labor was evident.

He shampooed the guy’s long dark hair, running his fingers through it then holding his head under the shower. Dave didn’t know if it made him feel better, but he looked better. A lot better with the dirt and grime washed off. He helped him out of the tub and dried him quickly, seeing he didn’t have long before the guy collapsed.

Back in the bedroom, he eased him down on the bed. The guy began to shiver again, and he knew it was due to the fever. He pulled out a pair of gym shorts for the idea of sharing underwear with a stranger seemed wrong. And there was the issue he didn’t own a lot of boxers. He had a drawer full of jock straps. A whole range of colors, pouch sizes and materials, all that fed into his fantasies, the imaginations of sexual exploits that always involved the wearing of one. Emily had hated them, and maybe, in the end that was one more thing he couldn’t get past. For his guest, it would have to be a plain grey pair of gym shorts. He went to the bed and worked them up the guy’s legs and into place. The soft worn cotton concealed nothing of the guy. Working the covers back, he got the guy into the bed and covered up.

Back in the kitchen he pulled out his medical kit, one stocked with much more than one from a store and took out the drugs the guy needed to fight the fever. He struggled to get him awake again but eventually managed to get two pills down him, then he let him sleep.

He went to his desk, which sat by the main window and brought up his computer. He checked his emails to see if any emergency had come up in his absence, then sent one to his supervisor. He lied about getting held up in the mountains, telling her he’d be late getting back and wouldn’t be in the next day. That would give him time to find out about his unexpected guest in the morning when he woke.

It was late when he slipped into bed. His mysterious guest lay sound asleep, the blankets pulled up around his head. He felt the heat from his body. It was like an oven underneath the covers. He eased a hand onto the guy’s forehead and felt the heat of fever. The guy was still shivering, even in his sleep. He moved up next to him, put an arm around his chest and hugged their bodies together. It was the way his mother had held him when he was sick. Even in sleep, he felt the guy relax in his embrace. Soon the shivering stopped, and the guy snuggled up to him.

It was an embrace that quickly became more. It aroused him. He felt his cock thicken between their bodies. What would this guy think of it if he were awake? He knew most would  want to beat the shit out of him for daring to become aroused by their bodies. But what about this stranger, this sick boy of the mountains? Would he feel the same way, or could he feel differently about it? It was crazy, this fantasizing and he had to stop it. He began to think of work, of the absolute poverty he encountered, people who waited too long for medical care. He thought of Emily, wondering what she was doing now, knowing through friends she had already started dating other guys. Then there were the small things he needed to do. Grocery shopping and get his tag and driver’s license changed with his new address. At some point all the mundane tasks blended to nothingness, a dream state of being on a mountain, searching for something.

Sunlight hit him in the face causing him to stir awake. Slowly, shifting under the blanket, stretching legs to the foot of the bed, he surfaced from the deep sleep he had been in. He felt the soft warmth of the bed, the room at a comfortable temperature with air that didn’t smell of dampness or the soft mustiness of earth. He had to be dreaming, for none of it could be real. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but the white of the pillow and the covers that lay over him. Clean, bright white fabric wherever he looked. Something was wrong.

Sitting up in a panic, he looked around the unfamiliar room. There was a painting over the bed and on the wall over a side chair, photos, all black and white images, mostly of people. The dresser was nearly bare except for a small tray that held two watches and some rings and a framed photo of an older man and woman.

Looking through the open blinds he saw the skyline of a small city, one that seemed familiar but from this angle he couldn’t be sure. It looked like Asheville, but he had been in the city so infrequently he couldn’t be sure.

He still felt weak, but the fever seemed to have broken. Everything was a blur, as if in a fog. But the room around him was real. Struggling to remember what had transpired since remembering his run down the mountain only to miss the bus. He had sat on the side of the room shivering with fever. Someone had come to him, helped him up then he remembered being in their car, the interior warm and dry. There was a drive, how long he had no idea but then the climb up a stair and a shower. He blushed at the memory, another man bathing him, touching him all over.

Lifting the blankets, he looked at the soft shorts he wore and how they made him feel. He was hard and he struggled with his desire to touch it. His mother’s warnings came to him, the evil of touching one’s self, the sin of desire, feeling a selfish pleasure. After ten years her warnings still came to him, most often in the early morning when he was like this. He bulged the shorts so much. When he had gone to school, he remembered how the other boys joked around. All the talk of sex, of playing with themselves. One boy even doing it behind the gym letting others watch. Even now it scared him, the memory of how his own got painfully hard within his jeans as he had watched. His mother had warned of severe punishments, and at the time he couldn’t imagine a punishment worse than those given by his father.

There was a noise, of activity in a kitchen, then he recognized the scent of food cooking. The smell of bacon, and eggs and something he had not smelled in a long time, the distinct aroma of coffee. Who was this person that had taken him in? He tried to remember, but everything had been in such a fog, no image came to mind.

The kitchen grew quiet and he bundled the blankets around his body, pulled his knees up hugging them close giving himself a self of security in this unknown place. He saw a shadow then someone was in the doorway.

“You’re up?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel?”

“I…who are you?”

“You don’t remember much from last night, do you?”

He shook his head as he stared at the guy standing in the doorway with a tray and he could smell the food and coffee on it. But the guy made him nervous, dressed so immodestly. Shorts like the ones he wore and a tank top that revealed his shoulders and arms. He wondered if he could make a run for it but saw the tall muscular body and knew he could never overpower the guy, not in his weakened state.

“Look, I’m Dave, and just so happen to be a nurse. I was making my weekly trip to some of the communities when I came upon you on the side of the road and…”

“You’re a nurse?” Justin interrupted.

“Yes” Dave replied, smiling at him as if a child.

“I had tried to catch the bus…to come to Asheville. I needed something for the fever, and…I missed it.”

“I gave you something for the fever last night and this morning your temperature was back down to almost normal.”

“Thank you. But why?”

“Why?”

“Why are you helping me” Justin asked, motioning with his eyes the room around him.

“I just like helping people. I want to take care of those in need. And you were in need. I get it from my mother.”

With the reference to his mother, Justin relaxed, for it was something he could relate to, this respect of one’s mother and her instruction.

“What’s your name?” Dave asked as he approached the bed.

“Justin.”

Dave stood by the bed holding the tray and Justin wondered why he tempted him with the food but didn’t give it to him.

“Justin, you need to put your legs down. Relax. I’m not going to do anything to you.”

Justin smiled at Dave, acknowledging his anxiousness. He lowered his knees, letting his legs stretch out in front of him. Dave put the tray over them, and he saw all the food on it and felt his hunger grow intense.

“Eat up; you have to be starving.”

At first, he ate tentatively, still a bit anxious with his surroundings, but Dave had backed up to the wall, leaned against it and began to talk. To fill the room with the sound of his voice and it relaxed him, to hear another person just talk.

“…I grew up in Virginia, near Arlington, but went to college in Winston-Salem. I met Emily there. We dated for three years but I guess she wasn’t the one. You know how it supposed to be. Some all-consuming attraction to where they are the only thing that matters; the only person you look at? I don’t know. I guess she wasn’t the one. I found this job here in Asheville and moved here five…no six weeks ago. I’m still learning this city but so far it has been great. The job takes me out in the surrounding communities and…”

“To nurse the sick?” Justin interrupted.

“Yeah…to nurse the sick” Dave replied, and Justin saw his expression soften. “Justin, what about you?”

Shaking his head, he responded “nothing to tell. I live on Black Rock Mountain, in my parent’s cabin. It’s not much but it’s mine now. I do odd jobs; cut firewood, work with Mr. Regis on his construction crew when he needs some extra help.”

“Your parents…I take it both have passed away?”

“Mom died ten years ago. Dad just left about seven years ago.”

“Jesus” Dave replied. “How old were you when he left?”

“I turned fifteen the next week.”

“And you live alone? Up on that mountain?”

He heard the tone, this questioning of it and he knew how it sounded, a young boy left by his father. He nodded his head unable to answer. He resumed eating while listening to Dave ramble on, about places in Asheville he discovered, places that he couldn’t imagine.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Justin asked as he set the tray to the side, all the food consumed.

“Just through this door” Dave replied pulling open the door to his left.

Justin slipped out of bed, conscience of how undressed he was. It was embarrassing how he bulged at the crotch of the gym shorts and he concealed it with his hands as he quickly made his way into the bathroom. He closed the door and locked it, not wanting Dave to come in on him.

Dave tapped at the door and his voice came through clearly. “I’ve taken the day off, so I’ll be here to help you. I’m going to go wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. Just call me if you need anything but you need more rest. You still look pale.”

“If you take me to the bus station so I can go home, I can recuperate there. There’s a bus that runs on the other side the mountain and I can hike home from there.” Justin replied.

“Nonsense. You need to rest. I’ve got to make another trip  the day after tomorrow and can take you back then.”

“But…”

“No buts. When you come out, I expect you to get back in bed.”

He didn’t know what to say. Staring in the mirror he saw his current state. He did look pale, still sickly, that he couldn’t argue, but to continue to take this stranger’s charity. It seemed wrong. But he didn’t know what Dave had done with his clothes which held what little money he had on him and to ask for it would be to admit he was trying to leave. He needed to leave, to get back on the mountain.

He stared at his reflection and saw the lean body, one that went without far too often. He saw the matt of hair on his chest, the trail down his stomach that disappeared in the loose shorts. The light dusting of hair on his forearms and thick under each arm. He needed to shave, and his hair stuck out unruly and shaggy, in need of cutting. He saw all this, this evidence of a man, all grown up. But he didn’t feel it. At times like this he felt like the twelve-year old boy whose mother died of cancer, or the boy of fourteen left alone, hiding in the corner behind the bed for nights on end after his father left. In this stranger’s apartment with all its cleanliness and newness, he felt more than anything else, alone.

Back in the bedroom he heard Dave rummaging around in the kitchen and didn’t have the energy to argue with him. He wanted sleep and Dave offered it to him in a nice, clean bed. Guiltily he crawled back into it, pulled the blankets up to his head and settled down into its warmth. He was so tired, felt so weak, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Soon the dreams came, the running wildly, carefree through woods. He ran from something. Then he ran toward something.

One bag slung over his shoulder and holding two others in his left hand, Dave fumbled with his keys till he was able to open the door. He had bought so much more than he needed, but he had a guest and the hospitable thing to do was to feed  him. In the kitchen he sat the bags down and went to check on Justin. The bedroom door stood open and through it he could see the bundled up sleeping form. The position was different, feet to the right instead of the left and there was one arm protruding out, but he could tell Justin had not stirred enough to wake.

He was tempted to go climb in bed with him, to snuggle up close to his sleeping form. He liked how they fit together last night with Justin just barely shorter than his own six feet. The sensation of skin against skin, the heat trapped between, it pushed at his emotions, fed his desires and made him want more. A lot more. More than Justin was probably willing to give.

Back in the kitchen he put everything away except what was needed for the soup he was going to make. Something nourishing and perfect for someone who was sick. He laid the cutting board out and began preparing all the ingredients while thinking of Justin. Growing up in the mountains on his own, the hard scrabble life he must have endured especially since his father left him. He couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t begin to create what any day would be like for Justin. Then he thought about the physical person. The lanky build, so masculine in some respects, which was such a contrast to how he acted. But Justin wasn’t like the others. The people he’d been attracted to in the past were the gym boys, with their shaved bodies, the bicyclist that was on his dorm floor in college, with his shaved legs and tall lean build. There were the women, especially Emily, with her long legs and shaved pussy. He liked the way his hand could move over the smooth skin, completely bare to his touch, till his fingers slid inside her. Before her was Bobby, who was naturally smooth as to look much younger than his nineteen. It had taken some prodding, but he had gotten Bobby to let him shave him completely smooth, cutting off the small patch of pubic hair over his cock and the light hairs along each calf. It had been so erotic to him, Bobby naked in the tub, letting him do this grooming, removing all the hair from his body. Afterward he had put his lips over every inch of him, then took him in his mouth and after Bobby filled it with his load, he had fucked him. He remembered how he was so aroused, so turned on by it all, that he fucked Bobby till he came twice, the first load used as lube for the second fuck.

Justin was a mountain boy, crude in his impoverish state. And there was all that body hair. But still, there was something about him. Maybe it was his naïve nature, the innocence of it. Or maybe it was this need for help, which fed into his own need to help someone, to save them. Either way it was beginning to get to him. All he could think about was the sexual aspects of the guy in his bed, the physical and the things that defied description.

By lunch time the soup was simmering, the flavors combined to release an appetizing aroma. He heard Justin go into the bathroom, then come out and he looked up to see him standing in the bedroom doorway.

“Where are my clothes? I should put on a shirt and…”

“I put your things in the washer this morning and haven’t dried them yet. Let me get you a shirt.”

“You washed my clothes?!”

“Yeah, but I put everything in your pockets in that bowl” Dave replied, pointing to a glass bowl on the bar separating the kitchen from the dining-living area.

“Oh…okay thanks.”

Dave came out of the walk-in closet and handed Justin a shirt. It was a simple short sleeve in a blue fabric. Justin put it on, buttoning it all the way, leaving only the top one undone.

“Let’s eat. I made some soup. Hopefully it’ll taste okay.”

“It smells really good” Justin replied, following him into the kitchen.

Dave ladled soup into a bowl and handed it to Justin. “Take this and go have a seat. I’ll bring you something to drink. Tea, coke or water?”

“Tea?”

They sat opposite each other at the small table, neither saying much. Dave had so many things he wanted to ask. So much about Justin’s life he was curious about but felt it might be something Justin didn’t want to discuss. So, he ate in silence, watching Justin eat. When they were sated, sitting back from the table, Dave saw how Justin was trying to nod off, still tired from his illness.

“You okay?”

“Just tired.”

“Why don’t you go back to bed?”

“I hate I am intruding on you. If you give me my clothes, I can go catch the bus. I’m alright now and can sleep on the bus on the way…”

“What? No! Come on Justin. I can take you back tomorrow. It’s on my route. One more day is not going to put me out. Besides, you have to help me eat that large pot of soup” he said, smiling in the end trying to show Justin it was alright. Justin smiled back, weakly. “Go on, go back to bed. You need your rest.”

“Okay” Justin replied as he eased up and ambled to the bedroom. Dave watched him remove the shirt, revealing the lean torso, then slip back underneath the blankets. He wanted to go in there and slip in next to him, but that would be pushing it, and he knew it.

He wondered how to spend the afternoon. He was anxious, fidgety every time he tried to sit still. He picked up the novel he was reading numerous times only to lay it back down. He paced the living room, looked through the bedroom door so often it was comical, and he lay on the sofa staring up at the ceiling lost in his thoughts about all of it. About five o’clock he heard Justin go to the bathroom and he took it as a sign to get up. He put soup on the stove to warm, took out a loaf of bread he had bought and wrapped it in foil to warm in the oven.

The toilet flushed, water ran for a minute and Justin came out. He looked better, his color returning, and Dave gestured toward the dining table, wanting him to sit.

“The soup will be warmed up in a few minutes and we can eat something.”

“Okay…thanks.”

Justin sat at the small table while he finished preparations, pulled down bowls and spoons, poured each a drink and got it all the table. As he set everything out on the table, he saw the tired blank look, the weariness evident in Justin’s face. He looked better, the color back in his face, but the eyes showed his fatigue from being sick.

“How do you feel?”

“Better, much better.”

“You look like you’re still tired.”

“I think I’ve slept too much” Justin replied, and he smiled weakly then began to eat as Dave sat down and did the same. “Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything. I don’t know why you did it, but thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold.”

When they finished, Justin helped Dave clear the table and get the dishes washed, drying and putting them away where directed. They retired to the sofa and Dave turned the television on.

“You want to watch a movie?”

“A movie? That would be nice.”

“Here are the ones I’ve downloaded. See one you want to watch?”

“I’ve not seen any of them, so you pick something.”

Dave almost asked if he was serious about not seeing any of the movies. There were seventy-eight movies downloaded in the program. It seemed incredulous that someone would not have seen any of them. Then he considered what Justin had told him, and he realized he was being arrogant to assume so.

“How about a good ole fashion action flick” he replied selecting one of the comic book hero flicks.

They watched in silence with Justin’s eyes glued to the television watching with rapt attention. The movie was long, nearly two and a half hours in length and when the credits finally began Justin jumped up and quickly went to the bathroom. When he came out, Dave saw him standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He seemed about to say something or make a move to come back into the room, but hesitated.

“What’s up?”

“I think I’ll lay back down.”

“Okay.”

“What time do we need to get up in the morning?”

“Probably around six thirty. That’ll give both of us time to clean up and get ready.”

“My clothes? Where are they?”

“I put them on the dresser, but Justin, I laid some old clothes I was going to donate. You can have them if you want.”

“Okay…thanks Dave.”

He watched through the doorway as Justin slipped off the shirt and climbed into bed. The blankets were pulled up and a now familiar form lay on his bed. He flipped the television to a local station and started watching the comedy that was in progress. Then he flipped the channel to another station. Then another.

He knew the problem wasn’t the programming but the feelings he was developing toward Justin. This guy from the mountains who needed so much help. More than mere medicine and a place to rest. It toyed with his desire to take care of someone. This longing to have someone dependent on him. It was a factor in his breakup with Emily, if he was honest with himself. She was an independent person, able to take care of herself. She didn’t need him. She only wanted him to be a partner in her life. It should have been so easy, but he had pushed it.

He turned and looked through the doorway and saw the stillness of the sleeping form. He felt a desire to go climb in bed with him. It would be crossing a line, he was sure, but oh how he wanted to do it. He eased up and pulled out a box of videos, movies not for just anyone to see. He flipped through the overly watched movies and pulled out one of his favorites. It was bi-sexual in nature, two guys and a woman. It played to his own diverse taste, down to the shaved muscular bodies of the guys and one wearing a jockstrap. It was pure fetish, this obsession, and he knew it, but still, it was something that aroused him. It didn’t need to make sense.

He wanted to feel a part of the movie, to have some aspect that resonated with the imaginary of its set. Easing into the bedroom he checked on Justin and saw the slow rhythm of his breathing and the calm expression. It made him feel sure Justin wouldn’t wake for some time. At his dresser, stooped down to look in a bottom drawer, he ran his hands over the loose pile of jockstraps. The different colors, the variation in pouch sizes and made of different materials. There were basic athletic models, some in all black, one that was leather with a removable pouch and one that had sheer fabric for the pouch. He flipped through them till he came to an old one, the pouch frayed and stained. There was even a hole in it. He took it out for it was his favorite.

All the others were jockstraps he had purchased, but this one, old and worn, was one he stole. He still felt a sense of that guilt, and the thrill he had felt when he took it. He slipped into the bathroom to put it on as the memory of that day of thievery came back to him.

It was senior year, nearing graduation, and they had won another game, their baseball team doing better than it had in over ten years. The guys were rowdy after their big win, joking around and popping each other with bare hands or towels. Everyone had wanted to celebrate, to savor that moment of another win, so they had been slow to shower, parading around the locker room in various modes of dress.

He had been sitting on a bench, laughing and joking like the rest of them when Chad came from around a row of lockers in nothing but his jockstrap. He’d seen him like this before. He’d seen all of them like this, so it didn’t seem to matter at first. But when Chad had strolled by heading back to his own locker, he saw it, the hole in the pouch and the bare flesh through it. He didn’t understand it at the time, the arousal of the tease. The near concealment that tempted with what was underneath. But he felt it, knew its lure. It wasn’t the first time he struggled with an attraction to one of the other guys, but it would turn out be the first time he acted on it. When Chad headed to the showers, he moved to his own locker right next to Chad’s and when no one was looking he swiped the sweaty jockstrap and stuffed it into his gym bag.

Chad noticed it missing, asked the guys who took it, but he was such a hurry to leave, he quickly let it drop.

That night, late enough he knew his parents were asleep, he took it out, this treasure that represented another guy’s masculinity. He sniffed it then rubbed it down his chest and stomach. It aroused him to feel the soft fabric rake over his skin. He pushed it beneath his boxer-briefs and used it to toy with his growing erection. He was so young, naïve even, and too aroused. He came quickly, soaking the pouch in his cum.

For months he played with that jockstrap. When his parents were gone, he would wear it around the house. At times he would sit and finger his cock through the hole, or manipulate the pouch till his cock stretched it out or he’d lay on his stomach, grinding his cock into the floor feeling the tight confines of the pouch holding him while he fingered his ass. He came in it so much it was stiff with it.

Then his mother ruined it. She found it on the floor under his bed, forgotten after an especially long session, and washed it with his other undergarments. She never said anything about it, the condition it was in, but for weeks afterward he didn’t want to play with it. It was the event that caused him to start buying others. To look for different types and styles, finding the best ones from online retailers catering to gay men. But one night, during that summer before college, and his parents away for the weekend, he pulled it out and wore it all weekend.

Easing out of the bathroom wearing nothing but the jockstrap, he made sure Justin was still asleep, then headed to the living room, closing the bedroom door. He put the video in the old player and settled down on the sofa, dead center where he could rest one or the other arm across the back. He scooted down as the video began to play. He spread his legs and toyed with the hole as one of the guys and the woman made out. He began to grow erect when the guy entered her. He toyed with the pouch as it stretched upward. In the video the bedroom door flew open and another guy came in wearing a jockstrap. He was the one. The one that drove him to the brink: every fucking time. Tall and lean, with just the right muscular definition. And he was clean shaven, skin smooth as a baby’s bottom. Feet brought up to the edge of the sofa cushion, it spread his legs giving him access. He ran his fingers down over the pouch till they touched bare skin. He raked them along his ass, toyed with his opening and when the woman left the scene and the guy in the jockstrap took the other’s cock, let it sink all the way inside him, he sank a finger into his hole.

He had to clinch his jaw to keep from moaning aloud. He finger-fucked himself as he watched the two guys fuck on screen. With his other hand, he slipped it underneath the pouch and touched his erection. A wet spot formed in the fabric as he toyed with himself.

He was so engrossed in pleasuring himself, so caught up with the sex in the movie and with his own stimulation he hadn’t heard the bedroom door open. Hadn’t heard the near silent footsteps that approached till someone stood behind him, only a couple of feet away, watching what he was doing.

Justin was shocked by what he was witnessing. This open display of pleasuring one’s self. His mother’s voice rang out in his mind, all her admonishments, the warnings of punishments and the foulness of it. He had found it frightening and over the years had done it only in the times of utmost weakness. He felt so guilty afterward it would be weeks or months before he dared do it again. But here sat Dave, nearly naked, doing things he dared not. He knew what the hand down between his thighs was doing with the way it moved. The way it pushed a finger into his own hole. And the other hand, down inside that jockstrap. He could see the way it bulged so obscenely, moved with Dave’s ministrations. He felt his own cock stir. It confused him how he could be responding to another guy, one touching himself. He heard a guy moan, then beg to be fucked and he saw on the television screen one guy on his all fours getting fucked by another. It was a worse sin than pleasuring one’s self, but he couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t turn his eyes away as the fuck grew more physical till he could hear their bodies smacking together.

Dave put his feet back on the floor and removed his hand from between his thighs. He used it to push the jockstrap down, to work it below his nuts, revealing his erection and sac that was drawn up tight. And Justin watched, every move. He looked at how big Dave’s erection was, the length that was about his own, but it was thicker, the head flared out wider. He watched one hand stroke it, rub over the head till it shined wetly, and Dave grunted and moaned. He needed to sneak back to the bedroom, to not let Dave know he saw him, but he couldn’t move. Too drawn to this open display. To shocked at Dave’s openness. He was also drawn by how Dave was shaved. There was no body hair anywhere he could see. None over his cock, on his chest or stomach, and when Dave stretched out, pushed his legs out kicking off the jockstrap and threw one arm back, he saw the hair was shaved from the armpit. It was a curious thing, and he wondered why Dave did it, and if other guys did it as well. The two men in the movie shifted positions, one down between the legs of the other sucking his cock and he saw they were shaved like Dave. Not a hair on their bodies. Absentmindedly, he put his fingers on his chest and raked them through the matt of hair, wondering what it would be like to shave it off.

He raked his hand downward, along the trail over his stomach till he was touching the waistband of the gym shorts. They tented with his aroused state and he wanted to touch himself, to slip his hand beneath and manipulate his erection. But standing behind Dave, secretly, a voyeur, he was too afraid. His fingers slipped under the waistband only a little, just enough to tantalize himself on what was possible. What he could do if he went just a little further. Dave moaned as he toyed with the head of his cock, and he felt his own slip around and push upward. He daringly raked his fingertips over the head and felt the slickness, wet on his fingertips.

As Dave stroked his cock, he watched intently. He wondered if he came the same way as he. A struggle not to cry out, fighting against his own body for control. He watched Dave push up with his hips as his hand became a blur. There were the moans, growing louder and louder as legs pulled further part, cock held straight up and stroked at a maddening pace. Dave was focused on the screen and he saw how one guy was ejaculating in the other’s face, mouth then against his chest. Dave cried out, thrust upward hard and he saw the wads of cum shoot upward. The first wad flew over Dave’s shoulder, over the back of the sofa and hit his thigh just below the gym shorts. The next hit Dave in the face, then spattered his chest and stomach. The smell of it filled the room and he uttered an ‘oh’ as his own cock slipped above the waistband of the shorts.

Dave jerked around at the sound of Justin’s voice. He was so startled he tried to cover his hard cock with his hands as he looked over the back of the sofa. Justin was right behind him, so close he could see the outline of cock angled upward in the shorts and the head and about an inch of cock shaft sticking out at the waist. After a second his shock gave way to his curiosity about Justin’s cock. He stared at it for far too long, then looked upward. He saw the bare upper body with its hairy chest and trial down the stomach, then the face that needed a shave and eyes that looked back at him in fear, shock at being caught watching him. He realized the situation, the inability to not be a voyeur when everything is on display.

“Justin…you okay?”

“What…I should go.”

“Wait.”

Dave turned on the sofa getting on his knees, arms across the back. He reached out to Justin, hand turned up, open.

“Don’t go. Please?”

Justin backed up a step.

“Justin!” he exclaimed then lowering his voice, calming himself, keeping an even tone, “Justin”.

Justin stopped and stared at the outreached hand, his own hands hanging by his body.

“It’s okay” said he as he reached blindly for the remote, keeping his eyes on Justin.

“No. Mom said it was wrong, that is was…”

“Justin. You don’t really believe that, do you? That finding some pleasure in this world is so wrong. Shouldn’t we be able to find some sense of pleasure, however fleeting?”

“I don’t know.”

“I know there are teachings that say we’re to shun pleasure, that we’re to live a pious life, but Justin, people have tried that for a very long time and gained nothing from it. Nothing.”

“Do you…do it a lot?”

“Whenever I don’t have someone in my life, yeah” he replied, smiling, trying to lighten the mood. Justin smiled back as his body seemed to relax. “Have you ever had someone show you pleasure?”

Justin shook his head no. He wasn’t surprised by his answer for the way he lived. The isolation and how he was naturally introverted. He eased up off the sofa, slipped the jockstrap back on thinking it might be better if he weren’t completely naked, and moved around to Justin. He saw the confusion, the longing for something, someone and he saw fear…no, an anxiety. He moved in front of Justin and put his hand to his cheek.

“Life isn’t fair, and sometimes it is far more cruel than it has a right to be.”

He wanted to help Justin, to do something for him beyond the normal care. He wanted to show him pleasure. The connection two people can have, even if for only a short time. Slipping his hand down he held the chin, angled it upward slightly as he leaned toward him. He knew this was probably Justin’s first kiss. When his lips touched Justin’s he felt a tremor, the slight pull back then they pressed back. Justin’s arms came around his body and clung to him and he moved closer, let their bodies touch, move against each other. He felt the stirrings of his arousal, the desire of his humanity for more than this simple kiss. He pushed with his hips and felt Justin’s cock press against his own. He slipped his other hand down between them and raked the back of it along the furry stomach. He felt the gym shorts and worked his fingers behind the waistband, pushing onward till he felt it fill his hand. Justin began to grow erect once again, to thicken and elongate in his grasp.

“Let me show you one way to please someone” he whispered, then eased down on his knees. Looking up he saw the questioning look. He saw the confusion of someone who was responding to another person of the same sex against all their own expectations. He tugged the shorts down, Justin doing nothing to stop him, freeing the erection within. It rose up hard, the head arrow shaped. He kissed it, took the shaft at the base and licked it, then down the shaft to his hand. Justin shuddered and grabbed him by the shoulders, holding on as if afraid of falling. He felt a tightening of the grip as he took the head in his mouth and pushed forward.

As he worked his mouth on Justin’s cock, he heard the moans and grunts egging him on. He wanted to hear Justin grow louder, to show him how much pleasure he was receiving. He swirled his tongue over the head and felt Justin shudder. He sucked down the shaft and Justin tried to push inward even further. He pulled back holding just the head and sucked on it hard and he heard Justin cry out. He kept it up, his ministrations till Justin was moving his hips back and forth. It didn’t take long and the cock thickened in his mouth even more, then it flexed, pushing at the top of his mouth. He pushed on it further till the head was at the back of his throat and felt the ejaculations that nearly chocked him as Justin came.

He pulled off the spent cock and saw how it still bobbed up and down with its hard state. Looking up he saw Justin looking at him in awe, mouth and eyes wide open. He took the wet cock and stroked it to keep it hard, the shaft thick and slick in his hand.

“There’s something else I want to do…okay?”

Justin silently nodded his head. He pulled him down till he was on his knees facing him. Up close, looking beyond the shaggy head of hair and a beard trying to come in he saw the boyish face. He saw an innocence in the eyes, questioning, imploring, seeking something he knew Justin didn’t really understand. It was a gamble, something that could be going too far, but he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Justin’s. There was a hesitation, a slight pull back, but then they pressed back.

He looked into those eyes and saw something beginning to dawn in them.

“Do you remember what those guys were doing in the movie?”

“Yes” Justin replied, his voice so low he could barely hear him.

“I want you to do that to me.”

He turned and bent over till his shoulders rested on the carpeted floor. Reaching back, he pulled his ass cheeks apart and waited.

It seemed to take forever for Justin to move, but finally he felt cock touch his ass. It rubbed up and down between the parted cheeks and he felt the wetness it left behind. When it pressed against his opening, he held his breath. The pressure increased, then he stretched open, let the head of Justin’s cock penetrate him. The push inward continued, inch after inch, sliding through his tightness till he felt Justin pressed tightly against his ass.

“Fuck me. Come on, Justin, do it” he pleaded and the cock inside him began to pull outward, then sink back in. Over and over, Justin began to fuck, to drive into his depths. He grunted when he felt the bump of hips against his ass. Then Justin did something that nearly made him cum. It played to his fetish, fueled it, made it worse. Justin slipped a hand around the waist band of his jock strap, twisted it tight and used it like a rein. It tightened around his waist till it felt binding, and Justin’s cock plunged into his depths all the way. Justin pulled him back while shoving inward, driving into his depths all the way. His own cock felt so constricted within the pouch it hurt but he let it. Let the pain of his arousal make him feel it. Every aspect of this fuck. Justin’s other hand touched his left cheek, then rubbed upward along his back, never once slowing. Instead his pace increased, grew faster and faster till the sound of bodies smacking together echoed in the room.

He couldn’t hold back, too aroused by the way Justin was fucking him, and he came, each flex of ejaculation painful in the confines of the jockstrap as he filled it with his load. He pushed back harder and begged Justin to fuck him harder. Even spent, he didn’t want this fuck to stop. Justin’s hand slipped free of the jockstrap, then both encircled his chest as Justin lay on his back. One hand ran downward to the top of the jockstrap and stopped, held still and in his mind, he pleaded with Justin to touch him. Hot breath hit the back of his neck and Justin hugged him tightly. The contact was hot, alive with movement. He reached underneath and took Justin hand and pushed it down, slipping it underneath the wet pouch. He felt the fingers move against his cock making him grow erect again. They moved over his cock, raked over the wet head and down every inch of his shaft. He grew hard with their ministrations and he pumped his hips pushing cock through them.

Justin keep grinding cock into his depths, using his hole for the pleasure he offered. And there was the hand still in the pouch toying with his cock. How long Justin lasted he didn’t know, but all too soon he felt lips touch the back of his neck. Gently, barely making contact, then with more pressure. Then he heard the grunts, the hard exhales and the increase in the pace of their fuck. Rougher, out of rhythm, and he knew Justin was close. The fingers closed on his cock, grasped it tightly, and he pumped it through the fist. He felt Justin jamming cock into his hole then cry out with release. Justin jerked and shoved against his ass trying to get deeper into his hole. He pushed back then shoved forward through the fist and came again.

In the bathroom, he guided Justin under the shower. He used the soap over the lean body, Justin letting him touch every part of it. He soaped up his chest, stomach, then fondled the flaccid cock till Justin giggled and pulled away. He stooped down and soaped up each leg, ran his hands upward till he was washing cock, balls, and ass. He wanted to toy with Justin hole. Just imagined how tight it would be to his finger if he pushed it inside it. But he just rubbed over it, avoiding the possibility of going too far…for the moment.

When he stood up, Justin rinsed the suds from his body then surprised him, taking the soap from his hand. The initial touch was tentative, but as Justin moved soapy hands over his body they moved with more and more assertiveness. He noticed how Justin lingered over the shaved areas; above his cock, across his chest and under each arm.

“You like it?” he asked him.

“What?”

“How I shave off everything.”

“I don’t know…it’s strange to see a man without hair.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No. It’s just…” Justin replied letting his voice trail off.

“I’ll shave you if you let me.”

“What?! No, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. It just seems weird.”

“Come on, let me shave you. It’ll grow back in no time.”

“I don’t know” Justin replied but his voice was less assertive.

“No one will find out. It’ll just be between us.” Justin didn’t respond and he saw how he was staring at his cock, bare of any pubic hair. “I’ll get my kit.”

He knew he probably shouldn’t have, but Justin had become so compliant, standing their letting him do it, and he didn’t stop using the clippers till underarms, chest, stomach, pubic area and each leg were trimmed down to where he could shave him easily. He lathered up one area at a time, dragging the razor through it removing every trace of hair. His own cock thickened and began to get hard and he saw Justin watching it.

He got Justin’s upper body shaved, worked cautiously around his cock, which hardened enticingly in his face. He couldn’t help himself as he slipped his lips around it and sucked it deep into his mouth for a minute. Justin moaned and shivered with his manipulation. Then he leaned down and ran the razor over each leg leaving them bare, smooth to the touch.

Standing in front of Justin, he ran his hand over the smooth skin. Over the chest, down the stomach and over the cock that he grasped, giving it a few strokes to make it even harder.

“Come on, let’s shower off the shaving cream.”

As he rinsed the shaving cream off, he marveled at how much of a difference it made. Justin looked so much younger. In the face, he looked like a teenager, so boyish in appearance. Stooping down he pushed the lather down each leg, feeling the smooth skin. He looked up at the hard cock angled out from the bare abdomen and he took it in his mouth once again. He sucked it, got it hard as a rock, then stood up and pushed Justin against the wall. He wanted him, wanted the sex the boy offered him by his compliant nature. He kissed him, roughly, while his hands touched the body. The chest, stomach and finally the cock that he stroked as he pushed his tongue into the open mouth. He pressed his own body against him and felt each hand touch his lower back, slide downward till cupping each cheek. Justin was loosening to his advances.

He guided him out of the shower and into the bedroom where he pushed him back on the bed. He was so aroused he didn’t think, couldn’t slow down. He slipped his hands behind Justin’s knees and lifted them, pulled each leg up then pushed them over.

“W-w-what are y-you doing?” asked Justin.

“I want you…please, let me. I’ll be gentle.”

He moved on him, put his hard cock against the tight opening and pushed. Justin threw his head back, lips locked, and eyes closed tight. Then Justin shuddered as he penetrated him.

“Oh…oh…Dave, I…” Justin mumbled before he could kiss him. He moved over him, eased into his depths as he kissed lips, jaw, neck then around to the ear. He tongued it making Justin shudder as he drove all the way inside him with a final push. He ran a hand between them, feeling the smooth skin then the cock trapped between them. He toyed with it, fingered the head till it grew erect, then stroked it in rhythm to his fuck.

Every moment came back to him. The revealing of Justin’s cock when he bathed him, the way it felt in his mouth, then sunk in his ass. The way Justin used his jockstrap to rein him back, fucking him harder. The shaving of Justin’s body, the reveal of it, smooth to the touch. Boyish in appearance. He pushed into Justin, all the way as each came to him, fueling his arousal. He rose up on his hands and piston cock inside Justin as hard as he could. Their grunts and moans seemed so loud as to drown out everything else. He fucked and fucked…and fucked till sweat cascaded down his face and body.

He stroked Justin roughly till cum shot up his arm and pooled between them. The smell was intoxicating, this scent of man, of Justin, and he shoved inward, filling him with his load.

Justin felt exhausted, every muscle ached as Dave lay on top of him. He was so confused, everything he thought he understood about sex were thrown into turmoil. He had never had an organism like the ones Dave gave him, but it was with Dave, another man, and he struggled to reconcile it. He knew he had let it happen. And a part of him wanted it. The attention given. The nursing him back to health and taking care of him. Then the way it twisted into sex. Such a carnal thing, the desires fulfilled, and in a way that had been such a taboo from his mother’s lectures.

“Dave…please get up” he said, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. The whole room seemed to close in, and the weight of Dave’s body increased till he couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah, sure. Hey, you okay. What’s the matter?” asked Dave and he didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t understand it himself.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. I just need…” he stuttered as he climbed off the bed and rushed into the bathroom.

He locked the door and leaned against it trying to catch his breath. Dave knocked lightly on the door and his voice came through it, soft, gentle, full of concern.

“Justin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…I’m fine” he mumbled, more to himself than to Dave. “Give me a minute” he added as he moved to the sink and washed his face.

Staring in the mirror he didn’t recognized the person looking back. Clean shaven for the first time in a while and a face that had filled out more, more man than boy. But he could see past the obvious and still see the little boy. The one left behind by his mother, then his father. He didn’t like the way he was feeling. Had second, then third thoughts about what had happened with Dave.

He just had to get through one more night then he’d be home. Hidden away on the mountain like he had been for years, away from prying eyes. No one would know up on the mountain about what happened, so no one could pass judgment.

Opening the door Dave was sitting on the bed, dressed in shorts and t-shirt. He saw the concerned look, one that knew he’d gone too far. Seeing him dressed only made his own nakedness more pronounced and he rushed into the living room to retrieve the gym shorts. Back at the bedroom, he stopped in the doorway looking in at Dave, his front illuminated by the bathroom light.

“I’m going to sleep on the sofa tonight.”

“What? No. Justin…” said Dave jumping up and moving closer, “don’t freak out about what we did. Don’t let some past judgments ruin it. Please.”

“I just need time to think.”

“But…you can sleep in here. I won’t touch you. I promise. Just don’t try to sleep on that sofa. It’s too short for you.”

He turned and looked at the sofa wondering if it was worth it, this attempt to separate from Dave, physically put space between them. Looking back, he saw Dave step back, put more space between them.

“Come on, Justin, just get into bed and let’s go to sleep. It’s late and we have to get up early.”

He nodded his head and moved into the room, suddenly so self-conscious of every move, every gesture. He hesitated at the bed wondering which side he should take. Last night he was on the side closest to the bathroom. Tonight, he moved to the side closest to the outer wall. He slid under the blankets and turned to face it. The living room light shut off, then the bathroom closed. It seemed like a long time but eventually Dave came out and the light went off, leaving only the faint glow of outside lights filtering around the blinds. The bed rocked and he was acutely aware of Dave next to him. The blanket moved and shifted as Dave got settled in. Then the room fell into silence. A stillness that wasn’t natural and he knew Dave was laying awake the same as he.

How long he lay awake, he did not know but eventually, sometime in the early A.M. hours he finally drifted off to sleep.

“Justin…Justin. Time to get up”

Dave’s voice seemed to be a dream, one he struggled to rise out from his deep sleep. It felt as if he had just fallen asleep when Dave was standing by the bed waking him up.

“I’m finished in the bathroom. I laid out those clothes for you” said Dave.

He stretched and sat up, still so groggy he didn’t understand where he was at first. He rubbed his eyes then looked up at Dave who had a look of worry on his face. In the bathroom, door closed and locked, he used everything laid out for him. A quick shower and teeth brushed, he slipped on the clothes Dave had laid out. They were not like his original garments, nothing worn or frayed. Beside them lay everything that had been in his pockets, including the wad of bills that were to pay the bus fare and buy medicine. He noticed the folded bills looked thicker, more than there should be. He unfolded them and found three twenties and another five rolled up inside the fives and ones. The kindness caught him off guard. Everything Dave had done over the last few days came to him and he felt torn. No one had every treated him like this.

The drive out of Asheville was done in silence, for he didn’t know what to say. He stared out the side window at the passing scenery wondering what it was like for the residents, those walking to jobs, real jobs with steady pay. He wondered what it would be like him to have such a life.

All too soon they were on the mountain, driving up the narrow road till they came to the bus stop, and Dave turned and continued up.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m taking you home.”

“You can’t…I mean, the road doesn’t go to my place.”

“But I can get closer, right?”

“At the village is close enough.”

“Village? What village?”

“You’ll see.”

The road snaked up the mountain, the grades steep in places, the curves blind. After a very sharp curve, the road leveled out to a reasonable grade as they came to a small area level enough for several houses to sit together. There were two old farmhouses, one with the original log cabin still evident on one side. The others were mobile homes in various states, two very old, their paint faded. Only one looked to be of recent vintage.

“The village” Dave uttered in a low voice as he pulled off the road at a metal building with a sign advertising car repair and firewood. It was the only business in the village.

They sat in silence for moment, Dave holding the steering wheel in both hands as he struggled with what to say. Dave had done so much and now that he was about to step out of the car and go back to his life, he hesitated. As much as it scared him, pulled at his conscience being everything his mother had railed against for years, he couldn’t let go of the feeling that maybe she had been wrong. What Dave and he had done had been, for those brief moments, the most pleasure and intimacy he had known, and he could not make it this thing that was wrong. But he couldn’t express it, say to Dave what he was feeling. He wondered what it had been for Dave. Just another hookup with someone new? Could it have been something so casual for him? Dave hadn’t said anything and he wondered if maybe it were true.

“Dave, I can’t thank you enough for everything. I don’t know…”

“It’s okay. I was glad to do it. And about what happened, between the two of us, I’m not sorry about that. I don’t think it was wrong.”

“I have to go” he replied unable to respond to Dave. He opened the door.

“Hey, wait a minute” said Dave.

He turned to him, waiting, not knowing what he wanted to hear.

“I wish…I wish things were different. That we could see each other again. That we could...”’

“It’s okay…I have to go.”

He walked across the gravel drive and around the metal building to the small trail that led higher up the mountain. A trail that was familiar, one he had taken often. One that led to what he called home, although the meaning of that he now questioned. He heard Dave’s car running behind him, idling as he walked away. He didn’t look back, couldn’t for he was afraid he’d ask Dave to take him back to Asheville.

For the next two days, Dave made his way around the mountains from small town to small town, working at the clinics, bringing them supplies and seeing some patients. There were times he was busy with a patient or in conference with a local doctor or nurse, and these were the only times he didn’t dwell on Justin. Images of Justin came to him constantly, with reminders everywhere. The teenager at one clinic with a cut leg from where a chainsaw kicked back, dressed in the same manner Justin had been the day he found him on the side of the road. There was the older man, gruff in manner, but after a while he realized the man lived alone on the mountain, had all his life, and he wondered if Justin would become like this man. He was on a lonely stretch of road when he passed a small cluster of houses and mobile homes, and by the road a sign advertising firewood. He ran off the edge of the road scaring himself.

Back in Asheville he moped through the days that followed. He wished he had some way to contact Justin. But he didn’t even have a legitimate address for mail. Justin was off the grid as much as anyone could be in the region.

Friday night he went to the small gay bar on the north side of town and sat for hours nursing one drink after the next. A couple of guys tried to converse with him, showing interest, but he was too wrapped up in thinking about Justin. With the alcohol in his system, he let himself think of the possibilities, to imagine scenarios where Justin was in his life. He would make him take some classes at night to get his high school diploma, and help him find a job, something to give him a sense of purpose. And he would have Justin live with him. It was crazy, this obsessing over someone he barely knew, had only been with him a few days. But the innocence of Justin, this need for someone, played to his own need to take care of someone. He wanted someone that needed him, and Justin was someone who could be that person.

He woke up early on Saturday and paced his apartment for an hour. He sat on the sofa and flipped through the channels, turned it off and paced the room again. Back in his bedroom he pulled out his hiking clothes and dressed. In the kitchen he filled a water bottle and pulled out some snack foods, tossing it all into his backpack. Cell phone, wallet and keys in hand he headed out. The day was clouding up, and he knew it was to rain that afternoon. He circled around town to his bank and withdrew money then headed for the mountains. At first, he told himself he was going to find a trail and just hike. He would see how far he could go in two or three hours then turn back. It would be a way to clear his head. But he knew he was bullshitting himself. He turned north, on the now familiar road and accelerated.

It seemed to take forever to maneuver up the mountain but eventually he pulled up to the metal building in the village. Both garage doors were up. In one bay sat an old Chevrolet pickup up on jacks and in the other sat a four-wheeler. As he approached a man came out wiping his hands on a blue rag.

“Can I help you?”

“I think so. Do you know Justin?”

“Justin? Yes, why? Is he in some sort of trouble?”

“No, nothing like that. I helped him the other day and need to talk with him. That’s all.”

“You that nurse fellow?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m Dave” he replied holding out his hand. He needed to make a friendly gesture, do something to put the man at ease. He saw his expression relax, then a greasy hand extended toward him.

“Jesse. He’s up there” motioning with his head behind the building and upward.

“I assume there’s a trail to follow.”

“Yes, but not much of one. That boy don’t come down very often.”

“And it’s behind the building?”

“I’ll show ya.”

Dave was nervous as he walked up the mountain, constantly questioning whether, or not he was still on the trail. It had been so inconspicuous he would not have seen it without Jesse’s help. It was rough going, places that most trails would have steps made of timber or rock, here it was just a steep grade, and he had to hold to small tree trunks to pull himself up.

Rain began to fall after about fifteen minutes, lightly at first then hard enough to make the ground slick under foot. He cursed under his breath as he slipped time and time again. He wondered if he could make it to Justin’s cabin. He worried if he was even on the trial.

Justin kept splitting the firewood even as the rain began. He had been sweating profusely from working at the wood pile. Even in the cool air, he was burning up. Stripped to the waist, the sweat cascaded down his torso. He wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt tossing it on the wood pile to get back to swinging the ax. It was exhausting work, but it helped him not think of it so much. He swung the ax till his arms quivered, and he placed another piece of wood on the block to swing again.

The rain soaked his old jeans and he struggled to keep them pulled up then gave up, letting them slide down low on his waist. Ever since his time with Dave, the sexual nature of it, he began to think about its intimacy, this connection with someone. And he began to think of himself in sexual terms. To consider his own masculinity. Every time he saw his reflection, in the small mirror on the wall or in one of the two windows, he saw a man who could respond sexually to someone. Even to someone who was another man.

Down in the village the day before, he had sat in Jesse’s shop listening to banter between him and Mr. Mitchell. They were arguing over trucks again, who made the best one, the one that held up with hard use, and he had listened to them while letting his eyes turn to Mr. Mitchell’s son, Jeremiah.

Jeremiah was younger, still around sixteen, but he could see the boy changing, now a teenager, but soon a man. He’d known Jeremiah all his life, but this was the first time he looked at him sexually. As a man who would find someone and develop a relationship with them, if he hadn’t already. He had heard them talk of Emma from Bear Hollow who Jeremiah was supposedly dating. He looked at the lanky boy, the way his arms and legs looked too long. The way his neck was too, even though it was partially concealed by his long brown hair. Jeremiah sat on a stack of wheels, legs stretched out and shirt unbuttoned half-way down revealing a flat chest. Still just a boy, but one day soon he’d be a man. But then again Justin thought of himself, twenty-two and living alone and it made him not feel like a man, but still a teenager left on the mountain.

He swung the ax again, not as strong but still consistent in his aim, the blade hitting the same place, and the wood seemed to split with ease.

He heard the sound, the soft echo of it through the woods. Two or three times in rhythm then silence for a minute. He slipped again, going to his knees. More water soaked into his pants before he could get up. He was soaked to the bone but the hike up the steep mountain was strenuous, keeping him warm. He eased up the trial, following the sound. At first, he wasn’t sure what he was hearing, but as he drew closer, he recognized it, the chopping of firewood.

“Of course,” he uttered aloud as he increased his pace, knowing it had to be Justin.

Through the understory, he made out the cabin, the wood weathered till it blended into its surroundings. If he had not been looking for it, he would have walked past it. He made his way to it as he heard the ax hit from the other side. The cabin was small, smaller than he had even guessed at from what Justin had told him. A shallow porch on one side, with one door in the middle and two small windows either side. The side wall he could see was solid and through the roof he saw the metal flue of a wood stove. The primitive nature of it was shocking, something he had only read about but never seen up close. A place so remote, so isolated, without power or plumbing.

At the back of the cabin he saw the wood pile first, six to seven feet tall, then he saw the ax swing up into view and fall, the sound of wood splitting loud this close. He moved around the corner till he could see Justin who had his back toward him. He looked at the lanky body, the way muscles flexed as the arms swung the ax upward then back down. Rain cascaded down the smooth skin, and the pants sat so low. Justin looked so masculine. There was a sexual nature to Justin that had not been there before. He wanted to rush to him, to embrace him, feel that body against his own. He moved closer, till only about twenty feet away.

The ax came down again and the two halves hit the ground. Justin set the ax down and bent to pick up the two pieces.

“Justin” he called to him, his voice low, a soft quiet tone, as he struggled to control it.

The two pieces of wood fell back to the ground as Justin turned toward him. What would he say, he wondered? How would he feel after a few days away from him, time to think about it, letting the old prejudices arise anew? Justin stood up and stared at him. He felt time slow nearly to a stop as he waited for Justin’s response. He let the idea of rejection build, to become the only possibility. Then Justin came toward him, quickly and he felt the arms hug him tightly as he was lifted off the ground.

It was dark inside the cabin, the only light the dull gray light from outside coming through the windows. He watched Justin build a fire in the wood heater, then go to the counter and pour some water from a pitcher. He was wrapped in a blanket sitting on Justin’s bed, his wet clothes scattered around the room to dry. Still shivering, he tightened the blanket as Justin came to him, holding out the glass.

“Here you go” said Justin.

He took the water, uttering ‘thanks’ and sipped at it.

“Why did you come up today with this rain? You should have waited.”

“You’re not glad to see me?” Dave replied and he saw the smile, one of happiness.

“Yes.”

He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should broach the subject of Justin leaving the mountain with him, or if he should do what he really wanted. To drop the blanket and reach for him, to take him in his arms. Justin stood in the middle of the small room and slipped off his wet pants revealing the white boxers beneath, transparent with being wet. It tempted him, teased him with the partial exposure. Part of each ass cheek, a little of each leg and some of the flaccid cock were exposed through the wet fabric. Justin hesitated, then pushed them down, laying them next to his jeans. Justin stood naked in the middle of the room and he couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Justin…come here.”

He saw the grin, then the slow stepping toward him till standing right in front of him. He let the blanket drop from his shoulders exposing his own nudity and reached out to him. He led him closer, up between his legs. The contact made him want more. He reached up and ran his hands up Justin’s sides as he leaned forward and kissed just above the navel. Justin inhaled deeply at the touch.

Without looking up, he had to ask. “Are you okay with this?”

“I can’t think of it. I just know I want…to be with you.”

He kissed Justin’s stomach again, then moved down till he was trailing lips over the flaccid cock. It began to respond, to thicken and elongate as he moved down to the head. He kissed it then slipped his lips around it and took it in his mouth. He sucked it all the way into his mouth feeling it quickly harden. Moving back and forth along its length it filled his mouth.

Looking up at Justin he took him by the hand and guided him down on the bed on top of him. He spread his legs wanting to feel him slip between them. He wanted to feel Justin push against his body, to feel the weight of him.

“Put it in me” he whispered as he reached between them, taking Justin in hand. He guided him till cock pressed against his opening. Justin pushed against it and he opened to him. Shuddering as he stretched open, he felt Justin penetrate and push into his depths. Wrapping his legs around Justin’s hips he felt the familiar movement, the rise and fall of hips as cock piston in his hole. He clung to the warm body as it moved on top of him and pushed into his depths.

The little bed squeaked, then began to rock, rhythmically with Justin’s fuck. His own cock was pinned between their bodies where it was manipulated by their undulations. He pushed up against Justin as he felt cock sink into his hole, deeper and deeper.

A kiss, gently, barely touching the skin on his neck, then another. Justin moved from his neck to his mouth and kissed with an urgency. He opened to the kiss, returned it showing his own need for the intimacy. Lips still touching, he whispered “fuck me, Justin…fuck me harder.”

The bed rocked in a frightening manner as Justin drove into his depths, faster, harder, and grinding his own between them. He clung to the side of the mattress as Justin rose on hands and pounded hips against his ass. He opened his eyes and watched Justin. The changes in his expression, the way he strained with his exertions, muscles clinched tight, and how sweat trickled down his face. The small room smelled of their sex, the sweaty bodies exerting themselves to release. He couldn’t take it, all the pent-up frustrations of the last few days released so suddenly, so fully, and he shuddered beneath Justin as he ejaculated between them. Cum smeared between them till they slid slickly against each other. Justin’s paced grew erratic, rough, jabbing cock inward roughly. He knew Justin was close and he clung to him, begging him to do it.

Justin cried out and shook with release while fully inside of his body. He felt the shuddering release, then the spent exhale. Justin eased down and slipped next to him where they lay naked, intertwined together, warm and sated. The wood heater made the small room too hot, and they slept side by side uncovered by any blanket, hands touching and caressing.

It was late when he woke. The rains had stopped, and it was quiet outside. Not even a rustling wind or the sound of animals. Easing out of bed, he felt around the dark room till he found his cell phone and used the light to find his way to the small kitchen area for some water. There were three glasses, three plates and a mix of utensils in a container labeled ‘flour’. He moved the light over the few staples sitting on the counter and on two shelves above. At one end of the lower shelf was a small photograph. It was a man and a woman holding a baby and he knew it was Justin with his parents. He moved around the room, the rest void of personal effects like pictures on the wall, or books on shelves or small decorations, like pottery or glassware or figurines. Nothing that showed any kind of life in the cabin.

He cut off the light and lay his phone on the floor underneath the bed and slipped down next to Justin, whose arm wrapped around him, clinging to him even in sleep.

He woke with sunlight coming in through the windows and realized the cabin faced east. Justin was at the door, standing naked inside it while looking out into the woods. He watched him, wondering what he was thinking. Then he wondered if he could get him to leave this place.

“Good morning” he said as he sat up.

Justin turned to him, smiling. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you come all the way up here?”

There it was, the question of his motives. It was time to find out if this trip was in naught or if Justin would make the crazy move to Asheville. It was insane, the pace at which this was happening, but he felt time was against him. That if he didn’t pursue this now, in this moment, then it’d be too late.

“I came up here to ask you something.”

“To ask me something?” Justin replied, turning toward him with a questioning look.

He looked at the boy who had become a man alone on this mountain and he wanted him more than he could admit. The naked form, so masculine, drew his attraction with its physical presence, but it was more than that. Some intangible aspect he couldn’t express in words but felt without reservation.

“I was wondering…would you come back to Asheville with me?”

“Come back with you?”

“Yeah, you know…come live with me. To be my boyfriend, or whatever you want to call it. Look, I know this is crazy, but…” he stammered, letting his anxiety get to him, for Justin looked like he was going to say no. “It could be just a trial, live together for a while to see if you want to be with me.”

“You want me to be your boyfriend?”

Nodding his head yes, he spoke in a low nervous tone, “Yes, I want you to move in with me. To be my partner. I can help you find a job or go back to school or do nothing but be my partner.”

Justin smiled, moved across the room and settled down on knees at his feet. Justin looked like he was going to cry, eyes watery. He held his breath waiting for the response.

“Really? You’ll let me live with you? Dave, I don’t understand this thing between us. My desires that surface so differently than what I ever expected, but…I did miss you so much these last few days, and…and…”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

Six Months Later

Justin came out class at the community college on the south side of town, unlocked his bike and headed home. He rode north, weaving along the now familiar roads. He was taking classes at the community college to get his high school diploma. It had been a struggle at first, not having been in a classroom since he was sixteen. Dave helped him, gave him guidance, helped him with reading assignments explaining concepts and ideas he didn’t understand or simply helped him look up a word.  He stood on the pedals to climb the grade as he headed toward downtown and the apartment. Traffic was light and he easily kept pace, his legs accustomed to the effort after the last four months. The bike was his transportation since he didn’t have a license. Dave had tried to teach him how to drive but he was too nervous and talked Dave out of it for the time being, settling on the bike as his means of getting around.

He cut through South French Broad up to Patton Avenue and he diverted through the old downtown, always enjoying seeing the people out on the sidewalks and all the storefronts of shops, restaurants and bars. It was so alive with activity, such a contrast with life on the mountain.

Circling around he came to the apartment building where he carried the bike inside and up to their apartment. Inside, the smell of a roast came from the kitchen and music played a bit loud filling the apartment with sound. He set the bike in its corner, tossed his backpack down and went into the bedroom. He heard the splash of water and saw the light on in the bathroom. Dave’s reflection was in the mirror seated in the tub, book in hand, taking a bath. Easing into the bedroom, he stripped off his clothes.

“Is there room for me?” he asked as he strolled into the bathroom.

“Always” Dave responded sitting up. He slipped into the tub sitting between Dave’s legs and leaned against his chest.

“Wow, you got it hot, but it does feel good.”

Leaning against Dave he felt the kiss to the top of his head as arms came around his chest.

“It feels even better now.”

Acknowledgment:

I hope you enjoyed this story, but alas I can’t take credit for its premise and the characters that drive it. The idea of this story belongs to Vikram, and I would like to thank him for this storyline that I merely embellished. He sent it to me requesting I try to develop it. I liked the character of Justin, this innocent that was to have the world opened to him. Vikram, I hope I did justice to your idea.

­Grant