Road Trip

Quinn & Jay’s story—

 

Quinn:

High school sucked. Really bad. It was all so juvenile. I felt like I was surrounded by a bunch of overgrown thirteen year olds. And even when I turned eighteen in December of my senior year, it never got any better. The classes sucked, the teachers sucked, the kids sucked…the school sucked. The only good thing to come out of high school was my friendship with my crew. Sean, Sebastian and Jay are my best friends. No matter where life takes us, they always will be.

 

The biggest problem was what I look like. I can’t help it; I have blond hair, blue eyes, smooth skin, sharp cheekbones and deep dimples. I also naturally appear to be wearing eyeliner, even though I never have. Call it heredity or the luck of the draw in the gene pool, I don’t know, but I didn’t choose it. Sean, who is actually really cute but mistakenly believed he was the most average kid in the school, once told me that I look like I belong in a Tommy Hilfiger ad. I would rather look tough and cool, but that’s not the hand I was dealt.

 

Most of the girls found me cute. Well, half of them anyway. A quarter of them were “sad girls”, a quarter of them were “mean girls” and half them just stared at me like I was more a dream than a boy. I would get invited to parties I never wanted to go to and dances I’d sooner jab a sharp stick in my eye than attend. Some of the girls were nice enough. I felt bad turning them away. The problem for them was that I could never be the solution to their problem. I had no interest in them. I was as gay as the cast of Glee. And totally in the closet at school. This is Missouri.

 

The boys were the big problem. Also about half of them. About 40% of them left me alone while 10% of them shamefully looked at me the same way the girls did. With the remaining 50%, my looks made me a target. They were jealous of the attention I got from the girls. The name calling was no big deal – Quinn the Queen and Quinn the Queer were the most common – but it didn’t stop there. They’d knock, push and kick me around just because they could. Just to prove something to who knows who.

 

But college is the polar opposite of high school. I’m “out” in college and I’ve never been punched once or called a single name out of irrational hate. So yes, I love college. But college doesn’t have my best friends. I miss them.

 

It’s late December and we’re all home for winter break. It’s the first time we’ve seen each other in more than four months ago. In these last four months we’ve texted and kept up with each other through social media, but we’re dudes. We’re like all intentionally casual about it. But we’re getting together for a week starting tonight and I’m ridiculously excited. I’m like a kid on Christmas morning.

 

Because our Spring Breaks won’t line up, we decided to take a New Year’s week road trip to the Keys. We’re all eighteen and nineteen now and we convinced our parents to let us go. And it’s Jay who’s getting to borrow his mom’s minivan for the week. Tonight we’re all sleeping over at Sean’s house so we can get an early start in the morning.

 

Only one of my three best friends knows I’m gay. Well, at least he strongly suspects. I suspect the same of him. We’ve given each other reasons to fuel these suspicions – real, physical, live action reasons – but the actual words have not been spoken. What’s gonna happen on this road trip? Will we finally tell each other? Will I tell all three of them? How will they react? We are all Missouri boys, but my friends wouldn’t be my friends if they were assholes. I’m anxious for this night to begin.  

 

Jay:

I’m the first to arrive at Sean’s house. His dad is out for the night – the whole night – spending it with his new girlfriend. That sounds shitty, but Sean’s dad is actually super cool. He raised Sean alone and now that Sean is an adult and has been away at school, he’s been able to focus some on himself. Sean’s mom just up and abandoned them when Sean was just two years old. In my eyes, Sean’s dad is a hero. He’s still a lame adult, but in the best possible way. Sean once told me that his dad gave him a box of condoms on his fourteenth birthday. That right there says it all. Simultaneously cool and lame. And the two of them are a team. They love each other so much that it makes me happy and sad at the same time. Happy for them and sad that my dad and I don’t have even 10% of what Sean and his dad have.

 

I’m the only black guy in our group. Sean and Quinn are white and Seb is Cuban. Seb has an olive complexion, wavy brown hair and big brown eyes. Sean has lighter brown hair and green eyes. Quinn has blond hair and blue eyes. The three of them are all between 5’ 8”, 140 and 5’ 10”, 160. I am 6’ 2”, 190. My 190 is mostly muscle. I’m the only real athlete in our group, but that doesn’t bother me. Sean says I like slumming it with the geeks. He says I’m the only cool guy in our lame group. It’s not true. All four of us are cool.

 

Sean beams his warm smile and gestures me inside. He places his hand on my shoulder and raises an eyebrow, “Dude! Are you getting bigger? You freaking huge!”

 

I laugh and we chat for a while, waiting for the others. Quinn appears next and Seb is close behind. It’s Seb, of course, who draws us all in for a group hug. I’ve been looking forward to this week since we planned it over group text a month ago.

 

Quinn:

We’re playing video games in the finished basement, all four of us crammed on the one couch. The couch is meant to seat three, so we have exceeded the recommended capacity limit. We are thighs-touchingly close together. All three of my friends are exceptionally cute, but I’ve decided that I need my friends much more than I need a dead-end crush. I refuse to be attracted to them. Or at least I try not to be. This close proximity and all the jostling are stirring up some feels inside of me. Especially feels for one in particular. So yeah, all three of them are cute but one of them, and he knows this for true, has a spell on me. But I need to ignore that.

 

And maybe that one is gay too. It hasn’t been verbally confirmed, but even if he is… Okay, fine. He totally is gay too, and while it wasn’t with words, we did “come out” to each other way back in April. It was the Wednesday afternoon before Easter after school. The beginning of a six-day long holiday weekend. We made a connection but we only took it so far. For complicated family reasons (read: his father) he can’t “come out”. I don’t blame him. He didn’t choose his family situation. And honestly, I’m not officially “out” with our friends yet either.

 

Of course I’ve been relegated to one of the middle spots on the couch where I’m squished between two warm-bodied, good looking guys. We’re bumping shoulders, rubbing thighs and grazing socked feet that are propped up on the coffee table. While intellectually I don’t want to crush on any of my friends, physically I am a hormonal nineteen year old. All this contact and body heat is taking its toll. It’s making my face flush and cock stiffen. I hope no one notices. An erection would be hard to explain.

 

We finish playing games and it’s already pushing 11:00. We want to hit the road by 7:00AM. We should be going to sleep. We can’t. We’re all too buzzed about this mini reunion and the week ahead of us. We all ate dinner with our families hours ago, but we’re young men. We’re hungry again. Seb says, “Seany, let’s order Pizza!”

 

Jay:

After pizza, we decide that maybe a movie will wind us down so we can get some sleep. Sean and Seb have volunteered to drive the first two shifts in the morning. We figure four 4-hour shifts should do it. Jay and I stake our claims on the recliners while Sean and Seb retake the couch. While we are four best friends, we also kind of default into these pairs within the group. It’s an unspoken thing, but it’s real.

 

As we watch the movie, I hear odd noises coming from the couch. Because of the shape and length of the room, the couch is set back from the reclines and Sean and Seb are kind of behind us. If I turned around to see what’s going on, it would be super obvious. I try to tune out the movie and tune into my friends. Seb is giggling. I sneak a quick peek and they don’t notice. Seb is lying back and though they’re under the cover of a blanket, I can tell that his feet are in Sean’s lap. Is Sean tickling him? Seb giggles again. Yes! Sean is tickling Seb’s feet and it looks like Seb is not only enjoying it, but he’s asking for it. The giggling stops and it looks like Sean has transitioned to a gentle massage. Seb laces his hands behind his head, closes his eyes and smiles in blissful delight. What is going on back there? Is this just two playful friends horsing around? No. This is not wrestling or play-fighting. This is tender and gentle. This is affection. The blanket falls away just above Seb’s knees and his sherpa fleece lounge pants are tented with a massive erection. Oh boy! I turn back to the movie.

 

Quinn:

I drifted off there for a while, but the loud music that plays with the end credits wakes me up. Jay and I rise from the recliners and I’m surprised to see Sean and Seb both sound asleep on the narrow couch. Sean is behind Seb, between his body and the back of the couch. They’re sleeping back to front and head to toe. I guess they just accidentally fell asleep that way during the movie. I’m not the only one who drifted off.

 

I ask Jay, “Should we rip off that blanket?”

 

Jay’s eyes widen for a moment, then quickly return to normal. “No,” he says. “They’re driving the first shifts. Just let them sleep.”

 

So we do. We head up the stairs. As I follow Jay, I’m in almost a trance staring at the way his muscular shoulders and back move beneath his tight-fitting t-shirt. My friend is a physical specimen to behold. He’s six foot two but his tuft of curly black hair adds at least another inch. He might weigh 50 pounds more than me, but it’s all muscle under taught ebony skin. At the top of the stairs, I follow him into the family room. He turns to face me. His almond shaped brown eyes weaken my knees.

 

For a moment we stand there looking at each other. Then he smiles and gives me a slight nod. We’re only twelve feet apart but I run. I run, jump and leap at him, wrapping my arms and legs around him like a boa constrictor. He stumbles and we fall backwards onto the sofa, laughing. I pin his arms down above his head and he plays along letting me have my fun. He pretends like little me has the muscleman overpowered. And then I kiss him. It’s been too many months.

 

I kiss his forehead, his lips, his nose, his lips, his cheek, his lips, his chin, his lips, his other cheek, his lips, his eye, his lips, his ear, his lips, his other eye, his lips, his other ear, his lips, his tongue, his lips. And then I find his neck. When I kiss his neck, he giggles like he really is being dominated. I know that’s a tickle spot for him and I go at it like crazy. He sprouts goosebumps everywhere. I can feel another bump sprouting too. This is a bigger bump. It’s under me and it’s becoming even bigger with each passing second.

 

After months apart I’m finally seeing Jay, smelling Jay, tasting Jay and touching Jay. Without warning I drill my fingers into his open armpits. I’ve never done this before and it takes him by surprise as he grasps my hands and barks out a laugh.

 

“Quinn, what are you doing?”

 

“That was for getting a little too touchy-feely downstairs when we were playing video games. You were leaning into me pretty good there and pushing me right into Sean. Who knows what he thinks I was doing?”

 

Jay:

I nod my head and he gives me that crooked grin that only I notice. That crooked grin melts my insides. He runs, jumps and I let him tackle me to the couch. I love pretending to be at Quinn’s mercy. He goes at my neck, knowing it drives me crazy in the best possible way. But then he surprises me with an attack on my armpits. It’s out of character and it breaks the mood. I grab his hands and ask him what he’s doing.

 

He tells me I was too obvious in front of our friends. Was I? It is true that I just spent the last four and a half months separated from the guy that I think about every day. The guy that I dream about every night. And then suddenly, there he was. Next to me. Right next to me. Against me, really. I’m only human. A horny teenaged human. I thought that I had put on a display of extreme self-control.

 

I tell Quinn, “I think Sean might have been a little too busy thinking about the boy on the other side of him to consider anything either of us might have been doing.”

 

He scrunches his nose, “What do you mean?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing. As our week together progresses, make up your own mind. You tell me what you think.”

 

“You mean you think they’re…” he leaves the thought unfinished. He and I leave a lot of things unfinished. We leave both thoughts and actions unfinished every time we’re together. It’s the one thing about being with Quinn that’s frustrating. We’re always stopping. We’ve never completely said what we’ve needed to say or finished what we’ve wanted to do. And the worst part is that it’s all my fault.

 

I tell the young man who completely owns my heart, “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s not my place to say.”

 

He moves off of me and I sit up. He says, “Jay, let’s talk.”

 

The last time we really talked was the only time we really talked. It was that Wednesday afternoon last April sitting at his kitchen table. It was the last day of school before a long six-day Easter weekend. I had stayed after school for baseball practice and Quinn, I would later learn, had a make-up lab for his Chemistry class. The school was almost empty when I rounded a corner to see two guys at the end of a long hallway beating up a third guy. The third guy was my friend Quinn. I started sprinting but they heard me. They dropped him and ran. I couldn’t give chase because my friend was crumpled on the floor. I helped him up and he was able to stand. He assured me that nothing was broken and that he’d be alright. He told me that the crisis was over and that I should just go home. So, I took his advice but the home I went to was his, not mine. I placed my arm around his shoulders and he leaned on me the whole way.

 

I demanded to know who the guys were. Quinn never told me. That was probably the right move because I surely would have been expelled if not arrested for what I would have done to them. I asked him what that was all about and he looked at me but said nothing. I pressed the issue and he finally admitted to what had been going on for three years.

 

He said he never wanted us, his three friends, to know. It was his burden to bear. He said he had always just dealt with it and now, high school was almost over. But thinking back, there were small clues that I missed. Maybe if I had been a better friend I would have asked why he sometimes grimaced when he sat down at the lunch table or why he always wore long sleeves. But I didn’t ask. I didn’t ask and that’s why I suck. I said to Quinn, “Show me.”

 

He shook his head, “Jay, you don’t want to—”

 

“Quinn!” I cut him off. “Show me.” I had been cleaning up his wounds with a first aid kit I found in his bathroom as we were having this conversation. I closed the kit.

 

Quinn stood and lifted his shirt. Tears immediately sprang to my eyes. I said, “All the way.”

 

He pulled the shirt off. His chest, his arms, his stomach and his ribs were all covered in bruises of varying ages and in various colors. I could only imagine the array of punches and kicks that rained down on my friend. And why? For what?

 

I said, “Turn around.”

 

He did. His back was just as bad. How fucking dare anyone lay an unwanted hand on this beautiful, brilliant, kind, gentle boy. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill someone.

 

Quinn put his shirt back on and I asked him through gritted teeth, “What will your parents say about this?”

 

He shook his head, “They’re visiting my sick aunt out of town for the long weekend. For the next six days I’m sleeping over at Sean’s house. I’ll be gone before they get home from work tonight and they won’t see me again until dinner Tuesday night. I have six days to heal.”

 

“What have they said?”

 

He dropped his head, “They don’t know. My injuries are usually covered by my clothes and I’ve gotten good at concealing the evidence. Today’s assholes were more careless than usual.”

 

That word almost killed me. Usual. Fuck! I slapped the table and he jumped. “Sorry,” I said. “Look, Quinn. Your parents love you. They could help. They could talk to the principal—”

 

He put his hand on my arm, “Jay, it’s almost over. It’s not worth it. I’d just be more of a target than I already am.”

 

I looked down at his hand on my arm. His white fingers on my dark skin. The contrast was striking. Beautiful. I looked up and said, “No one should ever be touched in any unwelcome manner.”

 

He quickly pulled his hand away, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

 

I grabbed his hand, “That is so not what I meant.”

 

I leaned forward and he blinked. I nodded and he did too. And then we were kissing. I was kissing the boy I’d been dreaming of kissing for most of high school. And then we stopped kissing. Our first stop.

 

I said, “My dad…”

 

He nodded. He knew. My dad has made his thoughts, opinions and feelings on many subjects crystal clear. He has expectations and how I live my life is not up to just me. Not until I am a self-sufficient adult making my own way in the world. Quinn is both the wrong gender and color to be more than my friend.

 

Quinn said, “It’s okay, Jay,” and my heart broke all over again.

 

This brave, beautiful boy had been a human punching bag. I’d let him down for the past three years and now I was letting him down again. Except this time it was worse because I knew it.

 

I noticed he was limping on the walk home. One of the kicks must have gotten him on the inner ankle. I lifted his leg and placed his foot in my lap. I said, “Let me see.”

 

“Jay…” but it was too late. I slipped his shoe off his foot and his foot was wrapped in the craziest sock I’d ever seen. I was a powder blue background and covered in rainbow ice cream cones.

 

I looked at him and we both laughed a much needed, tension reducing laugh. But our talk was over. We spent the next four months pretending to only be friends, but sometimes when we were together, we’d lean into it a little. Not too much. Nothing too obvious. And on the rare occasions it was just the two of us, well… We’d do what we just finished doing. Then we left for college and now here we are. And I guess we’re about to talk again.

 

Quinn:

“Jay, let’s talk,” I say.

 

“About Sean and Seb?” he jokes.

 

I can’t not smile. I swat his arm, “No…”

 

We’re not big talkers. Not about real things anyway. Important things. But we need to. We’re about to leave on this trip with no school, no parents, just four nineteen year olds and one week of no responsibilities. I need to know what to expect.

 

I mean, I know how he feels. That’s been clear since last April. And if I needed reconfirmation, I just got it in the form of his massive erection pressing against my thigh as I kissed the shit out of him and he let me. He likes me.

 

I also know because he spent the last six weeks of high school glued to my side as my unsolicited protector. If anyone so much as looked at me funny passing in the hall, he would smash that someone into the row of lockers. Word got out quickly and no one messed with me again.

 

But he can’t tell his truth. He can’t be who he is. I get it. It sucks, but I get it. His dad would disown him. He would be kicked out and wouldn’t even be able to afford college. He has to weigh the cost of staying in the closet for a few more years against the cost of losing his education and his future. It’s really a no-brainer.

 

He says, “Okay, let’s talk.”

 

So, I tell him about how I’m “out” at school. How I met a lot of cool kids and college is a completely different experience than high school was. I also tell him that I finally “came out” to my parents last week over Christmas.

 

“That’s awesome, Quinn! They were cool with it, right?”

 

“They were. They are.”

 

“I know your parents. They’re probably planning a ‘Coming Out’ party as we speak.”

 

I laugh. Then I’m a little afraid for a minute. What if they are? I shake it off. “I should have told them a long time ago, but I was afraid to disappoint them.”

 

He scoffs, “How could the sweetest, kindest kid they could have ever hoped for disappoint them?”

 

I scoff back, “I don’t know. I know they love me and always will. I just… I’m their only kid. And here I am… Not what they expected me to be.”

 

“No. You’re not. You’re way more and way better than they ever could have dreamed you’d be.”

 

I blush. Compliments do that to me. “Tell me about you.”

 

“Well, I’m still the biggest closet case you’ve ever met.”

 

I laugh. “Jay, you know I understand.”

 

So he tells me about his school, his classes and a few of the people he’s met. He raises an eyebrow, “Do I need to be worried about the new friends you’ve made?”

 

I grin and it makes him smile, “I told them all that I have a boyfriend back home.”

 

“Good,” his smile falls as he turns serious. “Is everyone good to you?”

 

I know what he’s asking me. He’s not around to be my protector anymore. I nod.

 

“Show me,” he says.

 

“Jay—”

 

“Show me,” he insists.

 

I stand in front of him and lift my shirt.

 

“All the way,” he demands.

 

I take my shirt off, “Jay, the last of my bruises faded away six months ago.”

 

His smile returns, “This was all just a ploy to get the object of my desires out of his shirt.”

 

Jay:

His adorable crooked grin returns and he swats at my arm again, “You jerk. It’s cold in here. Look at my goosebumps.”

 

I am looking. I’m enjoying a nice long look. His smooth, beautiful, injury-free skin is covered in goosebumps. And his round, pink nipples are rock-hard and pointing right at me. Are we done with the talking stuff? I want to use my mouth in a different way. The first thing that comes to mind is sucking on those little areolae. I’ve never liked saucer-like nipples and Quinn’s are, like the rest of him, perfect.

 

I take his hands and pull him back down to sitting, “We have a whole week of just us.”

 

“And Sean and Seb,” he reminds me.

 

I smile again, “I’m telling you, I think they’ll be too absorbed in each other to give us much thought. Especially at night when they’re in their room and we’re in ours.”

 

“Is that a real thing that’s happening? Sean and Seb are…”

 

I nod.

 

“How long has it been going on?”

 

I shrug, “I think it’s kind of just getting started, but I also think it’s been getting started for a long time now. They’re just finally realizing it.”

 

He grins again, “They’re kind of ridiculously cute together. I hope it works out.”

 

“I’m rooting for them.”

 

“Jay?” he asks softly. “Do you think we can at least tell Sean and Seb about us?”

 

He knows I can’t. The four of us are more than friends. I trust those guys with my life. I love all three of them. But the thing is, mistakes happen. Innocent comments accidentally slip. All of our families know each other. Sean, for example, is one of the sweetest guys on the face of the earth. He’d never harm me intentionally, but he’s also super close with his dad. We all love Sean’s dad. He’s the best. But if he innocently picked up on a comment or even a vibe from Sean, then that might slip from him to my mom or dad and then…

 

I tell him, “Let’s just take the week one day at a time.”

 

It’s getting really late and we leave early. We really should be getting to sleep. But Quinn is still shirtless and he’s sitting right next to me. I am only human after all. He’s so slim and smooth and perfect. Sitting upright, there’s the slightest mound of vulnerable belly above the waistband of his jeans. I’m hungry for it. On me it’s my neck, on him it’s the tummy. I lean him backwards and he knows what’s coming. He laces his fingers in my hair as I surprise him by starting with a nipple. I’ve never done that before and he gasps. I give it some sucking and tongue action and Quinn giggles. I switch to the other one and he gasps again. Eventually, my licking and sucking mouth and tongue make their way down his torso. Before I invade his navel, I pull back and appraise my target. A perfectly round target about a half inch deep. I know Quinn likes my washboard abs but I am obsessed with his soft, vulnerable belly. With wisps of the tiniest short blond hairs, it’s irresistible.

 

I take the plunge and hit my target. He gasps for a third time then giggles softly as my lips, tongue and occasionally teeth, get reacquainted with my favorite part of my favorite person.

 

Quinn:

We didn’t get much sleep last night. We stayed up too long hugging, kissing and talking. We are going to be at the beach all week, I hope he didn’t give me any hickeys. If he did, my friends are used to seeing me with a shirt on, long sleeves usually, even at places like the pool. If I have to wear a shirt on the beach it’ll look familiar but only Jay and I will know it’s for a different reason.

 

All four of us are still virgins as far as I know. The two of us have always had plenty of attention from girls, but neither of us were ever too interested. If Jay was ever “with” any of them, it was certainly prior to last April. We had a good long talk last night, but he still hasn’t said certain words. When I told him that I finally came out to my parents last week, I suppose that was the first time that I officially told Jay that I’m gay, but he knew. I still don’t know if he’s technically bi or pan or anything else under that wide encompassing umbrella. Does it matter though? All that matters is that he’s queer and he wants me. It hits me that the other way around is a better sound bite. Maybe if we ever write a memoir, we’ll trade names. “Gay Jay and Queer Quinn” has a nice ring to it.

 

But we kept our pants on last night. Literally. Sean’s dad’s house didn’t feel like the right venue for that particular first. As cool as Sean’s dad is, it would be quite the awkward moment if he’d had an argument with his girlfriend and unexpectedly walked through the door. There are certain firsts that Jay and I will save for alone in our hotel room. We have six nights.

 

We’re in the back of his mom’s minivan. Since we stayed up so late talking and groping and kissing, we slept all through the first driving shift. It’s after lunch and we’re awake now. Under the cover of the blanket Sean had the foresight to bring along, I find Jay’s hand and give it a squeeze. He squeezes back. His hand is way bigger than mine, but somehow, we feel like the perfect fit. He pulls my hand toward him and gives it a surreptitious kiss. I grin. He doesn’t let it go. He holds my hand with my arm stretched across to his chest. He uses his other hand to lightly drag his fingernails starting from my wrist down my inner arm. I start to quiver and giggle. As he passes the elbow, my upper inner arm gets ticklish. When he reaches my armpit, I find the strength to rip myself free. I shake my head disapprovingly and he mock-frowns.

 

It'll still be a few hours before we make it to Atlanta where we plan to stop for gas and dinner. I start a little game of backseat footsie and he takes it to mean that I’m asking for a foot massage. I wasn’t really, but I’m not complaining. Jay’s big strong hands working all the right spots on my feet are a pleasure I could never tire of.

 

Still under the cover of the blanket, he works my shoe off my foot and starts gently through my sock. I lean back, close my eyes and smile. He sneaks a peek under the blanket and laughs. Today’s “happy” socks are covered in beach balls and sandcastles. It reminds me of that first afternoon last April. The nice part of that afternoon.  

 

Jay:

Seeing the beach design of Quinn’s silly socks reminds me of the last evening we were alone together in August before leaving for college. We were both leaving a few days before Sean and Seb, so they hadn’t finished their summer jobs yet and they both worked that night. I was at Quinn’s house and we were in his basement watching the Cardinal game on TV. Or rather, I was watching the game and Quinn was pretending to.

 

I bent down, picked up his left foot and placed it in my lap. He folded his hands behind his head, angled toward me and smiled. I untied the lace of his Nike high top and slipped it off his foot. Ironically, his sock was covered in baseballs. And it was damp as it was just out of its shoe. Quinn has adorable feet. I want to eat them up. They are so smooth, hairless and pristine. And odor free. We had spent a long, hot August day biking, running, walking… What teenaged boy wouldn’t be at least a little funky in the feet after a day like that in the St. Louis summer heat? Quinn, that’s who. He’s only a size 9; my hands are bigger than his feet. I couldn’t help myself, I brought his socked foot up to my face and buried it in his arch, gobbling like Cookie Monster and he laughed and squirmed, but I swear, the only thing I smelled was fresh laundry. My giant size 13 feet are not cute and adorable. I have the feet of an athlete. They’re big, clunky, bumpy, hairy, and yes, perhaps ever so slightly stinky.

 

After removing my face from his foot, I stripped off his sock and went to work. I could tell that his shorts were filling up with his emerging stiffy. Mine were too. Now neither of us were paying attention to the baseball game. I clicked off the TV and he opened just one eye.

 

He said, “They could still win, you know.”

 

I scoffed, “Quinn, they’re up by five runs in the bottom of the 8th.”

 

His other eye popped open, “I knew that.”

 

He totally didn’t know that. I held his foot captive in my lap with my fingers poised to drag up his sensitive arch. I asked him, “Quinn, who are the Cardinals playing tonight and what city are they in?”

 

He looked a little afraid. He should have. Failing this test would not go unpunished.

 

He said, “Umm… They’re playing the Dolphins in Albuquerque.” He grinned at me. That adorable, crooked grin.

 

I couldn’t help but laugh. I laughed so hard that I almost forgot to exact his punishment. Almost. I stroked up his arch and he thrashed around on the couch laughing like a hyena. Then I wrestled the giggling Quinn to the floor and held both his arms high above his head, pinning both wrists with just one of my big hands. His shirt was riding up and an irresistible strip of vulnerable skin was revealed above the waistband of his shorts. My free hand found its way under his shirt and he trembled from my touch. Who in the fuck would want to hurt this perfect boy. Not me. Not ever. I look up into his impossibly blue eyes and he doesn’t look scared anymore. That was just goofing around. I’m about ten times stronger than him, but he trusts me completely. I released his hands, freeing him, but neither of us moved for a minute, eyes staying connected. Eventually, he moved first. He grabbed me around the neck, pulled me down and kissed me. Our bodies were no longer wrestling, but now our tongues were.

 

That had been the last time we’d been together before last night. The foot rub had been forgotten, but we kissed and ground into each other for a good half hour on the floor next to the couch. Of course we didn’t take things any further that night, but this night will be another story. Presently, I give him the foot massage he missed out on that last night in August. I don’t tickle him. I don’t tease him. I just tenderly and lovingly rub and caress him. My only regret is that I can’t see his gorgeous feet through the blanket. Life is almost perfect. And then he picks up one of my feet.

 

Quinn:

I pick up his left foot and for a moment, he freezes. I know he’s self-conscious about his feet. He thinks they’re huge and ugly and gross. He’s wrong. Well, okay. They are huge, but I love his feet. They are the feet of a real man and they turn me on. My feet look like they belong on a boy and the only thing I like about them is how much Jay seems to like them. His feet are manly working feet. I pull off his shoe and begin to massage him too. He reminds me that he’s fresh out of his shoe and still sensitive by gasping and flinching until I realize I need to take it down a notch until he gets sensitized to the change in environment. My hands might be comparatively small, but I can handle his big feet. I love to handle his big feet. I also love the gentle musk he gives off. He thinks he stinks. I find it intoxicating.

 

My dark, handsome, strong athlete of a man doesn’t have a square inch of his body that doesn’t turn me on. I’m about to bust out of my shorts. Granted, there are still a few square inches of his body that I haven’t seen yet – that will change tonight in the hotel – but I know there’s nothing there that will disappoint me.

 

I duck my head under the cover and quickly slide my tongue up his arch. He moans a little too loudly, but Sean and Seb don’t seem to notice. Next I suck each of his five toes one at a time. When I reemerge from the blanket like a turtle I am relieved to see him blissfully happy. I need to get him over the aversion he has to his own feet. To me they are as perfect as he is.

 

I really am testing the seams of my shorts. Is my erection more from the foot massage he’s giving me or the one I’m giving him?

 

Jay:

It’s late but not too late when we make it to our hotel. We really have no plans but to spend all day every day at the beach. We don’t have the extra money for anything beyond the hotel, gas and unextravagant meals. We ask Sean and Seb if they want to come into our room and watch a movie. This is just for show. We knew (and hoped) they’d turn us down, pretending to be tired. We have two double rooms that are connected by an interior door. We hear them flip the bolt on their side of the common door and then there are giggles followed by the unmistakable sound of a body being pressed against the wall.

 

Quinn raises an eyebrow. “Wow. I think you’re right about them. They could be just a little subtle. Should I feel insulted?”

 

I scoff, “Definitely not. We should feel happy for them. They’re not just messing around, you know? I think they’re really in love. Did you see them at Waffle House? The way they were leaning into each other? The way they looked at each other? They’ve got the real deal going on there. You know how I can tell?”

 

He smiles, “I can guess.” I pull him in and we kiss.

 

I say, “Sean better have brought a second blanket for the drive home because I’m not getting under that one again until I have proof that it’s been boiled.”

 

He snorts, “I didn’t have visual proof but I smelled the unmistakable scent of a condom being opened while we were driving in the dark.”

 

“Oh my god! Is that what that smell was? I thought we were driving by a factory or something.” He laughs. “Good for them.”

 

The connecting wall between our rooms rattles. “And good for us,” I say.

 

He grins and I wobble. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than you can imagine,” I say.

 

He closes the space between us. “Let’s see. Easter break was eight months ago.”

 

I shake my head. “Longer,” I whisper.

 

“Oh.” He’s surprised. And genuinely touched, “Me too.”

 

If he’s lying, I don’t even care. He pulls my t-shirt off and I do the same to his. His eyes dance all over my body. “My god, Jay. You’re a freaking gladiator!” And his hands are now all over me. His touch is electric. Each point of contact is a sizzle. Is it really possible that he likes what he sees as much as I like what I see? Then I notice that there is a tentpole in his shorts. We’ve hardly gotten started. I guess he truly does like what he sees. A lot.

 

I put my hands on the waistband of his shorts above the fly. I ask him, “Is this okay?”

 

His response is nonverbal. He grapples at my fly, rips down my zipper and suddenly it’s my ankles that are wearing my shorts. I do the same to him and we clumsily step out of our shoes, holding each other’s elbows for support. I’m five or six inches taller than him, but wow! The tentpole in his underwear is almost as tall as mine is. I don’t know what I expected. Any size on Quinn would have been the perfect size because Quinn is the perfect man. He’s kind of huge. His magic fingers make my boxer briefs fall away. I reciprocate and now we are just two boys in four socks.  

 

We kiss again and I stagger us backwards until we fall onto the nearest bed. I’m on my back and he’s on top of me.

 

“My favorite position,” he grins.

 

I have many more favorite positions than this one in mind for us as the week progresses. But like we said last night. One day at a time. I am so hard right now; I might never have been harder in my life. Suddenly his hands are on me and it’s like a fireworks show in my brain. His hands aren’t huge so he uses both. He works me like a sculptor molding his clay. He transitions to one hand stroking my shaft while the other fondles my scrotum. Quinn just proved there’s no such thing as heaven because nothing else can possibly ever feel better than this.

 

He says, “Since my mouth is about to be full, I have a few things I need to say right now. Jay, You are the hottest guy on the planet. What are you, like zero percent body fat?”

 

I laugh.

 

“I am totally completely gay. Always have been. I like men. You are one hell of a man. You’ve been my friend, my supporter, my protector and my deepest desire for a long time. It is my lucky coincidence that the man of my dreams also happens to be the manliest, most masculine man alive.”

 

While he’s talking, he keeps the stroking going. Between the strokes and his words, I’m even harder than before, which would have seemed impossible just a minute ago. He lets go and for a moment I’m free to bob in the air in perfect rhythm with the beat of my heart. Nothing is happening. I feel the cool air of the room on my wet shaft as it glistens in precum. I open my eyes to find Quinn looking at me. Studying me. Admiring me. To my own eye, I’m nothing special. In Quinn’s eyes, I’m everything.

 

He repositions himself between my knees and plants his hands beside my hips. His hair brushes my abdomen and I’m suddenly overtaken by a new sensation. His mouth is magic. I already knew about his magic mouth from the significant amount of kissing we’ve done, but this is something else. I don’t know how he does it, but he takes me all the way in. All the way to my base. I’m not so much into self-praise, but I’m a decent size. It feels so damn good as he mixes up his routine. He slides completely off of me, then takes all of me right back in again and I think I might just lose my mind. Next he moves up and down quickly and it makes my toes curl. Then he focuses on sucking and my hands slap at the mattress. But what ultimately gets me is this swirl thing he does with his tongue. While keeping me completely enveloped, he manages to swirl his tongue in a clockwise motion at the top of my shaft, just under the glans. I actually can’t believe with his mad skills that I’ve held out as long as I have, but the third time he does the swirl, there’s no going back. I have been activated and detonation is imminent.

 

My voice squeaks, “Umm, Quinn?”

 

It’s only fair to warn him, right? I mean I don’t expect him to… He doesn’t stop, but he acknowledges that I’ve been heard with a quick raise of a hand. He manages swirls numbers four, five and six before my explosion begins. He swirls number seven during my orgasm and my whole body feels like it’s levitated a foot off the bed. Then I crash back down to the mattress, realizing that for a moment, I actually had taken flight. Quinn eases up on the intensity, but he lovingly sucks down every last drop.

 

Quinn:

That was fun. Jay is panting and sweating and exhausted. Big strong athlete that he is. I guess I got him pretty good.

 

He pulls me down next to him on the bed and wraps his arms around me. “I have no words,” he says. His forehead is beaded in sweat. “How did you… I mean I have nothing to compare it to. That was my first time, but I can’t imagine… That was… Wow! Insane! Ridiculously crazy art.”

 

I grin, “I might have practiced some. My potassium levels are probably pretty high right now. I’ve had a lot of bananas this week.”

 

Jay laughs. “You’re amazing.” He drags a finger up and down my arm. “I am not as prepared as you. You are about to be my practice field. Or better yet, my playground.”

 

He leaves me on my back and takes up the spot I had just occupied moments ago with him now between my legs. I had softened just a little over the course of the last twenty minutes – not a lot, but a little. Jay takes my semi-hard rod in his rough, calloused hand and I gasp. But he doesn’t rub or stroke yet. He bends me back and licks up the length of my underside causing me to bite down hard on my lip and stifle a scream. My semi is more than semi at this point.

 

Jay stops what he’s doing and says to me, “Quinn, I’m gay. I think. I guess. I mean…I’m totally gay for you. If you were to disappear from my life, I don’t know that I’d ever like anyone else ever again.”

 

Compliments make me blush. My penis spares just enough blood for my face to turn crimson red.

 

“You told me that I’m your masculine fantasy but you’ve gotta know, you’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever met—”

 

“Jay, I—”

 

“No,” he stops me. “For eight months now there are things I haven’t said. It’s time I say them. You just have to listen. Without interruption.”

 

My almost erect penis is still in his hand and he, perhaps accidentally, gives a commanding squeeze as he issues his orders. I gasp and he chokes out an apology through laughter.

 

He continues, “I’m dead serious, Quinn. I don’t give a shit about height or muscles or athleticism. You faced evil all by yourself for years during high school.”

 

I can’t help it. I shake my head, “You protected me—”

 

He gives me another warning squeeze and I shut up.

 

“No. Only at the very end. And you never asked for help. You never told me or anyone what you were going through. I only found out about it by accidentally stumbling upon you mid attack. And while you weren’t publicly “out” at the time, you never stood up and said that you weren’t gay. You could have lied and made it easier on yourself. That’s not who you are. That’s not what you did.”

 

His words are not only making me blush, but they’re stiffening me up the rest of the way.

 

“You, Quinn, are a real man. Brave, strong…a hero. And at the same time, kind, generous and sensitive.”

 

I’m back to full mast now and Jay notices.

 

“And your dick is massive!”

 

I snort, “It’s smaller than yours.”

 

He scoffs, “By millimeters. And on your smaller frame, it looks monstrous.”

 

The difference is more than he’s suggesting, but I won’t quibble. Him calling me big seems to make me even bigger.

 

He starts with his hands and his fingers do things to me that mine have never been capable of doing to myself. I can feel the precum flow out of me in rivulets. He relentlessly massages up and down my length and it’s driving me mad. Just when I don’t think I’ll be able to take it another second, he changes tack and suddenly I’m in his mouth. The room begins to spin and my eyes roll back in my head. I never want this feeling to end. I wish I could stave it off but a big finale is quickly approaching.

 

He said he didn’t practice, but to my virgin organ, he seems supremely proficient. If practice makes perfect, then unimaginable ecstasy is in my near future. And then he stops. He actually leaves the bed. I’m out of breath, completely confused and on the edge.

 

He reappears and apologizes, “I just needed something from my bag.”

 

What could he have possibly needed at that exact moment? The moment of my first ever shared climax. Something cool and wet is dripping on me. Actually, it’s being drizzled on me. Is it lube? What is he doing? And then I feel another new sensation. Its tight, bumpy and encompassing. It feels amazing. I open one eye and my suspicions are confirmed. It’s a fleshlight. If it wasn’t for online porn, I wouldn’t know what it is. Jay aggressively slides it up and down and within thirty seconds I’m right back on the edge. Between his heavenly hands, his magic mouth or the teasing toy, I can’t decide what I liked best. I guess that’s why he gave me all three. The bumps and ridges inside this thing are sliding up and down my steely rod. It’s too much. I give him the same warning he gave me.

 

“Umm, Jay…?”

 

To my surprise, he removes the fleshlight and takes me again in his mouth. The intimacy of it intensifies what is already destined to be the experience of my life. My head hitches up then flops down. I grip the back of Jay’s head with both hands and guide him. I bend my knees and lift my ass in the air. I open my mouth and soundlessly scream as I fill his mouth with gush after gush. When it comes to a merciful end, my whole body is a sack of boneless jelly.

 

Jay:

All week long we played with Sean and Seb on the beach and we played with each other in our room at night. We made good use of the fleshlight, but it was only an enhancer. Never the main event. That first night in Sean’s house, I snuck up to his bedroom and stole a box of condoms from his dresser. He had told me the funny story of how his dad kept giving him more and more at birthdays and before leaving for college. I knew he had several and wouldn’t miss one. Quinn and I used the whole box before the week was over.

 

On our last night I told Quinn, “This isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning.”

 

He leaned in and replied sadly, “It sure feels like an end.”

 

I tell him, “What I mean is, when we get home, I’m telling my parents.”

 

“Telling them what?” he asks.

 

“Everything,” I say. “That I’m gay. That I’m in love with you.”

 

“Jay, you can’t do that. What if your dad kicks you out? Where will you go? How could you finish school? Where would you live? I know that waiting four more years to live your truth sucks, but you have to consider your future.”

 

“I am though,” I say. “You are a huge part of that future. The biggest part. Here’s what I realized. No, my baseball scholarship isn’t a full ride, but it covers a lot. If I work a part-time job on campus, I can plug the gap. And if I do get kicked out, I’m sure Sean’s dad will take me in for the summers and other breaks. He’s cool and he likes all three of us. They’ve got that extra bedroom.”

 

“You don’t want to stay with me?” he pouts.

 

“No. I want to be able to tell your parents that I’m your boyfriend. Even though we’re nineteen now and even though your parents are awesome, I don’t think they’ll go for a live-in boyfriend.”

 

He gives me the crooked grin again. “And we can always sneak around.”

 

“Hook up.”

 

“Get down on it.”

 

I laugh. “I’m serious Quinn. Whatever comes, I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out. I’m telling them tomorrow night.”

 

“Are you sure? You could always sleep on it. See how you feel in the morning.”

 

“I’m sure.”

 

We stayed up too late, spent the last of our condoms, and forgot to set an alarm. We were due to meet Sean and Seb early to get on the road home, but we overslept. We woke up to the sound of Seb clearing his throat. Apparently we hadn’t heard them knock. It slowly dawned on me that Quinn and I were sharing just one bed and spooned up against each other. If it wasn’t for my complicated family situation, Quinn would have already told them. He would have told them that first day on the beach. But slipping quickly into protective mode, he starts babbling some incoherent excuses. It’s kind and generous and adorable. And Unnecessary. I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. I tell our friends, “Sean, Seb… Meet my boyfriend.”

 

They are clearly shocked. They really have been all wrapped up in their own entanglements. Quinn says, “We were afraid we were too obvious. The way we’re always next to each other in restaurants and at movies. The way we look at each other.”

 

I say, “Like how you two are super obvious.”

 

Seb feigns indignation, “Are not!” but he immediately smiles then laughs. He turns to Sean and kisses him on the lips.

 

Sean’s eyes bulge momentarily, then he resigns himself and leans into it. “Jay, Quinn… Meet my boyfriend,” he says through a grin.

 

Our early start ends up not being so early. We go out for a proper breakfast as two real couples. No pretending. No hiding. Jay and I tell Sean and Seb all about our last eight months and they tell us all about them. The talk carries on from the restaurant to the minivan. We talk the whole way home, openly and without fear of judgment. Not only do I have Jay, but I have Sean and Seb too. Our bond is stronger than ever. Four friends for life.