A Righteous Time

“Ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants. We know more about war than we know about peace, more about killing than we know about living.” – Omar N. Bradley

“War, in the end, is always about betrayal, betrayal of the young by the old, of soldiers by politicians, and of idealists by cynics.” – Chris Hedges

“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”  – John Lennon

---

Leroy sat up and the pain from his wounds shot up his spine. He gritted his teeth as he held a hand over the worst wound, the bullet hole in his abdomen. It burned and made even breathing difficult. But his biggest worry lay next to him. Paul had been hit twice and lay unconscious.  The torn and ripped T-shirt was soaked in blood.

“Where’s that fucking chopper?” Gary yelled, one of the guys in his platoon.

There was gun fire close by, then a couple of explosions. Mortar rounds, no doubt, Leroy thought as he tried to check on Paul. Then he heard it, the sound of a chopper approaching. It seemed to vibrate the air with its thunderous roar as it came over the trees to his right, the landing skids clipping limbs from them. It dove into the small clearing as gun fire increased, rotated around at such a fast rate Leroy wondered if the pilot lost control, then he saw the chopper touch down. It was a miracle, the way the chopper sat on the ground in an upright position, the blades still turning so fast as to be a blur.

“Let’s go. GO, go, go,” yelled someone, then Gary was at his head as someone else had the other end of the stretcher. He looked over and saw Mike and Aaron lifting Paul’s stretcher and running along the side of them toward the roar of the chopper.

Loaded on board, the guys pulled back and Leroy felt the chopper lift off the ground, the nose down as it rose from the ground.

“Shit! Hang on guys,” one of the medics yelled over the sound of the blades above and Leroy saw the top of a tree rake the bottom of the chopper as they climbed through its top.

“Fuck, crazy bastards are going to get us killed,” another medic exclaimed as they rose into clear skies with the sound of war raging below them.

Leroy lifted his head and looked out over the dense jungle of Vietnam, wondering what cruel joke brought him to this hell on earth. Then he looked over at Paul as a medic used a device over his nose and mouth to force air into his lungs. He felt breathless as he watched the medic try to stabilize Paul.

“Is he going to be, okay?” Leroy asked the medic next to his head.

“If we can get him to the field hospital, I think so.”

It was no guarantee, but Leroy knew there were no guarantees in war, especially this war. This insane mind-numbing war in Vietnam.

Leroy looked at the unconscious Paul, feeling a fear he had felt far too often during his time in the jungles of this small nation. A worry that he was going to lose another fellow soldier, someone he had come to know, and none more than Paul. They were both from the south, Paul from Macon, Georgia and he from Enterprise, Alabama. Two ‘good ole boys’ some of their friends joked during the few good times during their tour. He turned to look out the open door over the passing landscape. He watched the treetops passing below them, then he struggled to keep his eyes open. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until everything went dark.

 

Leroy heard voices. Indistinct, voices of people he didn’t know. He tried to open his eyes, but at first it felt like they had been glued shut. Finally, he saw light, then blurry images of people moving about, then a blurry image of someone leaning over him.

“You’re awake. Oh, thank god, you’re wake.”

It was Paul’s voice. Leroy would know it anywhere after being in the trenches with him. He finally was able to focus on him, see him clearly hovering over him with a look of concern and relief.

“How do you feel? You feel, okay?” Paul asked.

“I’m…I’m…where are we?”

“The field hospital. You arrived unconscious and then developed an infection they struggled to get under control. It was scary for a couple of days.”

“A couple of days? How long have I been out of it?”

“Four days.”

“Four days?! And you…are you okay?”

“Once they got the lead out and sewed me up,” Paul replied, then he held up his right arm that was in a cast. “A bullet tore through my arm breaking both the bones. The doctor said I was lucky it didn’t shatter the bones for then they would have amputated the arm.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. So, the two of us will be in here for a few more days before they ship us out.”

“Ship us out?”

“Yeah. We’ll get sent to a proper hospital to be checked out, then…we’re going home.”

Leroy heard the excitement in Paul’s voice, the pure glee of getting out of Vietnam and the insipid war they were fighting.

He tried to comprehend it, going home after being away for nearly fifteen months. There had been times when he didn’t think he would survive another day. Four days ago, he was sure Paul, and he were going to die on the battlefield. But now he was going home.

“I’m going to let you rest. You should get some sleep,” said Paul moving out of Leroy’s line of sight.

Leroy tried to keep his eyes open, but he felt heavily drugged and finally relented, closing his eyes, and drifting off to sleep.

 

Leroy looked out the small window at the other jets taxiing to the runway for takeoff. It had been over seven hours since they took off from Honolulu and they were finally back on the ground in San Diego.

“I didn’t think we would ever get here,” said Paul from the seat next to Leroy. They had finally made their way from the jungles of Vietnam, through the field hospital to the hospital in Saigon, then finally on a plane back to the states.

“Yeah,” Leroy whispered, feeling a type of relief settle over him, but one he knew was fragile. There had been nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, and he found himself jumpy, every loud noise making him fight the urge to dive for cover. He glanced over at Paul, knowing the same was happening to him. Twice on the flights back, he had to wake him before he jumped up ready to defend himself. They had stayed together during their trip and made plans to do so all the way home.

As the jet taxied up to the gate, Leroy felt mixed emotions about getting home. He desperately wanted to see his family, but he also feared being around them and their friends. He knew there would be question after question about what happened, and he didn’t know if he could endure it. He wanted to avoid it, tell everyone not to ask him about it, but he knew some would do so no matter what. Their concern and curiosity would be playing against him.

The ladder was moved to the jet, and someone was opening the door. The aisle was full of people pulling down luggage and waiting impatiently to disembark from the plane.

“We might as well sit tight for a while,” Paul uttered, and Leroy grunted in agreement.

When the line began to finally move, Paul stood up and pulled down the two duffel bags stowed overhead, handing one down to Leroy. Leroy waited until Paul was able to step into the aisle, then he stood and followed, an elderly man having waited to let him out.

It was warm and breezy outside, despite the late hour, and once into the terminal, the cool air-conditioned air felt good. Leroy found himself leading them to baggage where their other luggage would eventually come out. He saw the looks, some nodding in approval, and some frowning, and he knew what they were thinking. He took the escalator down and followed the signs which kept the two of them with the largest group of people.

 

“Hey, what if we don’t fly on to Atlanta tomorrow,” said Leroy as they watched another flight’s luggage come out on the conveyor belt.

“What do you mean?” asked Paul.

“I want to get home, but…just not right away. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I was thinking we go together and buy some old car and drive across the country. You know, see places we may never get to see once we settle down back home.”

“Like Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon?”

“Yeah. I was thinking we could drive up the coast first. You know, go to Hollywood and maybe go all the way to San Fran, then over to Las Vegas, then-“

“Then wherever the road will take us?”

“Yeah.”

“We would need to watch our spending. I need to have some in the bank when I get home, for I don’t know how long it’ll take to get a job in Macon.”

“Same here. That is why I think we buy something cheap, share motel rooms, and…”

“Eat shitty food and drink cheap beer?” Paul replied, laughing.

“It’s a fucking idiotic idea, isn’t it,” Leroy uttered, suddenly feeling foolish for suggesting it.

“It is, but…let’s do it.”

Leroy looked up surprised, then he smiled. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, let’s do it. Our money is in our accounts, so we just need to go to a bank and see about getting some out.”

“Then we get some wheels and head out.”

“But first let’s get to a hotel for I’m beat and need some sleep.”

 

Somewhere north of Los Angeles, Paul pulled off the highway into the parking lot of a motel. The sun was low in the western sky, and they had stopped a few times to look out over the Pacific Ocean, therefore they had not gotten as far up the coast as they had planned.

“Let’s stop for the day,” said Paul as he pulled up to the office at the end of the building.

“Good idea for I’m beat,” Leroy replied as he sat up.

They climbed out and headed to the office. Leroy looked back at the 1964 Ford Fairlane they had bought down in San Diego four days ago. It was blue with a blue interior and was starting to show its age and use. They had gotten it cheap but had to put new tires on it and replace the battery. Over the last four days the car had proven reliable and blended into the traffic, making them feel like regular citizens. But without talking about it, Leroy and Paul knew neither of them felt that way. Their time in Vietnam haunted them, came to them when there was silence or no distractions, and it came in their dreams that turned to nightmares.

Leroy followed Paul into the small office while remembering the last few nights, when one or the other woke in the middle of the night screaming. They hadn’t discussed it, not once mentioning it. As Paul came to the counter, an older man came through a door revealing a living area in the next room.

“Can I help you boys?”

“Yes, we need a room with two beds.”

“Just fill this out, and it’ll be eight bucks.”

Leroy pulled out four bills and set them on the counter next to the form Paul was filling out. He watched Paul slide the form across the counter and place eight bills on top of it. Two keys were placed on the counter and the form and money taken.

“There’s one of those fast-food places just down the road,” said the man as he put the money away.

“Thanks,” Paul replied.

 

It was late, after midnight, and Leroy lay in bed staring up into the darkness. They had driven up to the fast-food restaurant after cleaning up, then drove to the next small town, finding a bar. They sat among the locals trying to avoid talking about the war. Most of the night they managed to get them to talk about the region and what to expect in their drive up the coast.

Paul snored and snorted, then started to talk in his sleep, the words too garbled to understand. Leroy thought about their drive back, he behind the wheel, Paul too drunk to drive. The more Paul drank, the more he pulled back, nursed each beer longer and longer. Therefore, Paul was asleep, and he lay awake.

Paul suddenly began to thrash and scream in his sleep. He tugged at the blanket twisting it around him. Leroy wasn’t sure what to do, but he acted quickly without thinking, and got on the bed with Paul, hugging him tightly while talking with a calm low voice.

“Paul, Paul, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Paul settled down within Leroy’s arms then grew quiet. Leroy was going to slip free of Paul and go back to the other bed, but Paul held tight to him. He told himself it was for Paul that he settled down next to him, arms still hugging their bodies tight together, but when honest, he felt a comfort from it too. He struggled to hold his eyes open, then he slowly lost consciousness.

 

The next morning, Leroy woke up alone on the bed. He sat up and realized the shower was running, explaining Paul’s absence. He wondered how Paul responded when he found him in his bed. Climbing off the bed, he went to his duffel bag for clean clothes. The shower shut off and after a few minutes, Paul came out, buttoning his shirt.

“Hey, you’re up,” said Paul.

“Yeah. I assume you’re ready for breakfast. I’ll just jump in the shower and get dressed and we can take off.”

“Leroy.”

“Yeah?”

“Last night…did I talk in my sleep?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t understand you.”

“And I was thrashing about?”

Leroy looked at Paul and saw the concerned expression. He nodded in response.

“Is that why you were in bed with me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…I can’t seem to let go of it. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.”

“I know you call out in your sleep too.”

“Hopefully this trip will let us get it out of our system.”

“Damn, I hope so,” Paul replied.

“Let me shower get that shower so we can grab breakfast.”

 

They arrived in San Francisco in the afternoon and Paul parked on one street so they could walk around. For the rest of the day, they strolled one street after the next. They rode a trolley car, went into shops, and near day’s end, went into a small diner.

“Let’s get a room somewhere then find a bar,” said Paul as Leroy motioned for the waitress so they could pay.

“I think this area might be expensive.”

“We can get the car and ride to another area and find a cheap place.”

Forty minutes later, Paul pulled to the curb on Valencia Street in front of a hotel. A room on the ground floor in the back near the next street, they got cleaned up and dressed and headed out on foot. Without any idea of where they were going, they walked south, then headed west along 17th Street. For five blocks, they just strolled along the sidewalk talking about the city and where to go next, either south to Las Vegas as planned or maybe keep going north to Portland, then Seattle.

“Hey, where are we?” asked Paul as they came to another intersection.

“This is Noe Street.”

“The hotel was just above 16th, right?”

“Yes, back on Valencia.”

“Okay. So, where do we find a bar?”

“The next street up looks like it has a lot of activity.”

“One more block it is,” said Paul as he stepped off the sidewalk when the light changed.

They got to the next intersection and stood for a minute looking at how it was three streets crossing, not two. 17th crossed Castro and Market.

“Which way?” asked Paul.

“Looks like a bar down there,” Leroy replied, pointing down Castro to their south.

“Let’s go. There’s a beer out there calling my name,” Paul joked.

Leroy strolled next to Paul noticing how there were a lot of men but very few women. Looking down an alley he almost stumbled when he saw two men kissing. He knew one of the guys during boot camp had joked of a queer section in the city and it seemed they had found it without realizing it.

Music blared out of an open door and two guys stumbled out laughing.

“Hey, this bar looks good,” said Paul, leading Leroy inside.

“Paul,” Leroy whispered, tugging on his shirt.

“What is it?” Paul replied, far too loud.

“Come here a minute,” Leroy replied, tugging Paul to the side, away from the bar and tables that ran along the wall.

“What?”

“Have you not noticed? This is a gay bar.”

“What? Noooo….” Paul replied as he scanned the room. “Oh shit, it is.”

“Yeah. We should go somewhere else.”

Leroy began to head for the door when Paul grabbed him by the arm, stopping him.

“Hey, I’m tired of walking and…who cares if this is a gay bar. We just want a drink, right? Let’s grab a drink or two, then we can head back to the hotel.”

Leroy looked at Paul, face in shadow, and he wondered what Paul would say if he knew. If Paul had known for the last few days, he had considered something more than just friendship between them. Of things sexual. He had been able to suppress it for the most part all through high school, then during their tour, going to boot camp, then overseas. To get caught was just too much to consider, and he had played along with the other guys when they were out, flirting with the women, listening to the others talk of pussy and fucking, and getting sucked. He had looked at the other guys, especially when shirtless or in some communal shower, checking out teen bodies becoming men far too fast, of round asses and cocks flaccid over loose sacs. It had been a struggle but not nearly as severe as it had been since San Diego sharing motel rooms with Paul.

He liked Paul. The easy-going personality, the similarities between them, of place and background. Since getting ambushed in the jungles of Vietnam, they now shared something else.

Now he stood in a gay bar, where guys were openly together, flirting and kissing and looking for something more, and Paul just suggested they stay. To stay for they were just going to get a drink.

Leroy felt his stomach clinch into a knot, and he wondered if he would be able to keep a drink down as he followed Paul along the bar, moving down its length in search of two available stools. Deeper and deeper into the narrow space Paul led him, the lighting dimmer, the shadows deep black while the music seemed louder, the bass beats vibrating the air. Near the end of the bar Paul climbed onto a stool and slid the next one closer to him, gesturing to Leroy to sit.

“Bartender! A beer and a shot of tequila.”

“Just a beer for me,” Leroy added.

“Wow, this is wild,” Paul whispered looking along the bar, then over to the two guys at the very end of it kissing and groping each other.

“Yeah,” Leroy whispered back trying not to stare at them.

 

Paul saw how skittish Leroy had become when they entered the bar. He wondered how repulsed Leroy was about the idea of two guys together. It was something he had not thought too much of in high school, but once in the army and surrounded by nothing but guys, the idea of it became something he considered. He wondered if Justin from Oklahoma City had done what some of the others suggested, and there were the three guys who had gone to Bangkok, who bragged of the women they had picked up, but a joke about lady-boys caused them to change the subject. It caused him to think of the mechanics of sex with another guy, then if there could be the same passion that a men felt toward a woman. It was something he knew the answer, after spending the last few days with Leroy. To wake up in Leroy’s arms had been such a shock, mostly in how he had found comfort in it. He had slipped out of Leroy’s arms and rushed to the bathroom just so he could compose himself before facing him.

The bar was a test. Could he hang with Leroy in such a sexually charged atmosphere and walk away without seriously considering it with him. He slugged back the shot and took a long drag of the beer, the bottle ice cold in his hand. He saw Leroy drink with less enthusiasm, and he tried to work out what Leroy was thinking.

He looked at Leroy, the physical person next to him. Leroy was five eight, slightly shorter than his five eleven, and the two of them were lean in build. But where he had dark brown hair and brown eyes, Leroy was a dirty blonde with blue eyes and a baby face. Paul knew how some of the others had thought of Leroy when they first arrived at boot camp. Leroy was the mama’s boy, the one that would be weak and probably the first to get killed. It had made him furious to hear it, and he had befriended Leroy, finding someone so like himself he had felt relief, and he had finally believed he could make it through his time in Vietnam.

“Hey, you boys don’t look like you’re having fun. I’m William, and you are…”

Paul turned at the same time as Leroy until the two of them were looking at the guy who had spoken. Long dark hair and a thick mustache and a shirt unbuttoned down to the stomach.

“Paul, and this is Leroy.”

“Paul…Leroy…” William slurred, revealing he had had a few drinks already.

“We’re just grabbing a drink then heading back to our hotel,” said Paul, hoping William got the hint he wanted William to leave them alone. He worried how Leroy would respond.

“You boys like to party? I could go back to your hotel with you and we could have the best time-“

“No, we’re good.”

“Come on, don’t you like to have fun?”

“Look, we’re tired after a long day and-“

“You boys look military,” William interrupted, his stance changing.

Shit, Paul thought as he prepared for William’s reaction.

“Yes. We just got back from that hell and just want to have drink,” Leroy suddenly spoke drawing Paul and William’s attention.

William’s expression softened, then he rested an arm over their shoulders leaning in close. “Was it as bad as they say?”

“Worse,” Leroy replied.

Paul saw Leroy had become upset, eyes watery and knee bouncing up and down like it did when truly nervous or anxious. He looked at William, who stepped back and straightened.

“I hate how we send boys over there to die. I’m glad you made it back,” said William, then he moved back toward the front of the bar.

Paul watched William move through the increasing crowd, then turned back to Leroy.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah. Can we get out of here?”

“Sure, let’s go.”

 

It was the middle of the night and Paul was still awake. He had played over the encounter in the bar, then thought about Leroy, asleep in the other bed. He wondered what it would be like, to live with a man instead of a woman. It seemed such a simple thing to do, for most of his time with Leroy was a pleasure. How the two of them got along and rarely got into a disagreement. Even picking a place to eat was no big deal. Then he considered something more intimate between them. Sexual, kissing and touching and…the sex. The penetration and would it hurt at first, and how different would be it really be than fucking some pussy. His cock stirred as he imaged it, Leroy beneath him, taking his cock, or Leroy over him, penetrating his ass, fucking him.

“NO…NO…stop, please stop…get down, get down,” Leroy exclaimed in his sleep, kicking and thrashing about. “Paul. PAUL! NO, no, no…please make it stop.”

Paul eased off his bed and down next to Leroy, taking him into his arms and pulling their bodies together in a tight embrace. “Shhh…it’s okay,” he whispered as he held to Leroy who was still trying to thrash around. Eventually Leroy calmed, and fell still, his breathing back to normal. Paul knew he could probably go back to his bed, but he held Leroy, feeling the warmth against his chest and the slow rhythm of Leroy’s breathing. It was comforting. It made him relax, and soon he drifted off to sleep.

 

The sun was cutting through the windows, hot and relentless. The air swirling in through the open windows was hot and dry, making Paul and Leroy drink one soda after the next, both wishing they had gotten their canteens out and filled them with water. They had left San Francisco early that morning and drove east then south to Modesto, then east through Yosemite National Park until over the mountains and into the arid terrain on the other side. They passed Mono Lake, continuing east, until they were in the town of Tonopah where the road carried them south toward Las Vegas.

They would spend two nights in the city, gambling and drinking and trying to forget San Francisco and how it made them think of it. But each morning, the first to fall asleep woke in the arms of the other.

They left Las Vegas, heading east, riding over the Hoover Dam, then visiting the Grand Canyon, something they would talk about with frequency all the way back to Alabama. Once on the road continuing eastward, they drove through New Mexico on the interstate highway until in northern Texas where they stopped in Adrian, a place so small it could only be called a settlement. As they entered its invisible limits, Paul pulled off at a roadside motel on its eastern edge.

They checked in, then went to the small diner that shared the gravel parking lot with the motel. The dining area was narrow, a counter with stools and booths along the front wall with a narrow aisle between. Leroy sat at the counter with Paul taking the stool to his right. One look around, and it was obvious most of the other diners were truckers and travelers just passing through the area.

“We could be home in two days if we push it,” said Paul after the waitress took their order.

“I’d rather not,” Leroy replied, admitting in a way he wasn’t ready to get home. He knew it was going to be difficult, all the questions about his time in Vietnam, the events surrounding him getting injured, and all the conversations that would revolve around him fighting for his country, a patriot who served, when he didn’t feel like a patriot and questioned what he had been fighting for. He came to think of the war as insane, something that was wrong, and knew back home that would create one argument after the next.

“Yeah…me too.”

Without elaborating, Paul knew what Leroy left unsaid. He felt it too.

“Let’s eat and call it a day. I’m beat,” said Leroy as they watched the cook throw two burger patties on the grill.

 

The room was plain and forlorn, showing its age despite the fresh coat of paint and new bedding. But neither of them cared. Duffel bags tossed down, they began to dig out clean boxers and their small toiletry cases.

“You can shower first. I’m going to call home to let them know where we are and not to expect us for three or four days at least,” said Paul as he began to unbutton his shirt.

“Okay,” Leroy replied, picking up his things and heading to the bathroom.

He stood under the warm spray of water just letting it hit him in the face, then turning and letting it wash over the back of his head as he looked down lost in thought. Flashbacks from Vietnam haunted him, then he thought of the last few days with Paul, just the two of them, and how they were waking up in each other’s arms, and the warmth of the embrace made him think of his growing attraction toward Paul. The sexual nature of it, how it began to arouse him at the most uncomfortable time, like when driving through New Mexico and seeing two guys hitchhiking who were shirtless revealing lean bodies, bodies like Paul’s. It made him think of Paul, who had been driving at the time, shirtless like the two hitchhikers. He thought of the physical nature of him and the smiles and moments of sadness and the way he felt against his back. He had grown erect thinking of it and had to adjust his cock and shift his position hoping Paul hadn’t noticed.

He came out of the bathroom in the cheap white boxers he become accustomed to wearing to find Paul stripped down to his boxers trying to adjust the antenna on the television to get some reception.

“I don’t think we’ll be watching much television,” said Paul, looking up.

Leroy saw how the eyes scanned him, looking him in the eye at first, but then the quick downward scan of his body. He hoped it was the same for Paul as it was for him. Then he wondered, what of it, for he had no intention of trying something, too afraid of being wrong.

Paul disappeared around the corner and soon the shower was running again. Leroy noticed the light from the bathroom across the floor and realized the door had been left open. Was it an invitation? What if he went into the bathroom while Paul was in the shower? He turned his attention back to the black screen of the television. He stared at it, glad it was off for he had no desire to know what was happening out in the world, especially if it was news from Vietnam.

The shower shut off and the light spilling out was partially blocked by Paul moving around in the bathroom. Leroy watched the shifting shadow as he thought of him. Then legs came into view, and he looked upward, over the white boxers, the bare torso until looking Paul in the eye. Paul was drying his hair, it finally grown out some, and staring back.

“I’m just going to turn in,” said Leroy.

“Okay.”

Leroy got to his feet and moved to the head of the bed to turn the covers back.

“Hey, Leroy.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I sleep with you?”

 

The lights were out but the room was still illuminated in a soft glow of light filtering through the cheap curtains. Leroy faced the window, seeing the shadow of a man walk by and hearing tractor-trailer-rigs pass by on the interstate, but none of it really registered with him. He lay wide awake thinking of nothing, but Paul snuggled up to his back. The warmth of bare skin touching, chest to back, the feel of legs intertwined with his own, an arm under his neck and the other wrapped around his side with the hand pressed against his chest, and more concerning, the hard cock pressing against his ass. How it lay between his cheeks and once again, Paul pressed it against him as he shifted position. Leroy felt his own cock hardening, getting thicker, longer, stretching out until he knew it had slipped through the fly. He felt how it flexed with his arousal and when Paul tugged on the cover, pulling it slightly, he felt the rub over the head, and he had to stifle a moan.

“Leroy, you asleep?”

“No.”

A long silence and Leroy waited, wondering what Paul was going to ask, then he felt the hand on his chest move downward. Slowly, an inch or so, then a hesitation before moving another inch or so. He held his breath and lay frozen, unable to move. He didn’t dare for fear Paul would stop. The hand moved again, until on his stomach.

“You won’t stop me, will you?” Paul whispered.

“No,” Leroy replied.

The hand moved down until over his boxers, then touched his hard cock sticking out of the fly.

“You too,” Paul uttered as he took Leroy in hand.

Leroy gasped for breath as he felt the hand take his cock, toy with it, the fingers moving along its length then circling the head. Then the fingers wrapped around the hard shaft and began to stroke it. He couldn’t stifle another moan, letting it escape from deep within. He pushed his cock through the hand, then pushed back feeling Paul’s cock flex between his ass cheeks.

Paul stroking his cock was permission. Permission he had desired for far too long. He reached back, slipping his hand between them until he was fondling Paul’s cock through the boxers. He worked his fingers along the hard cock feeling its length and thickness and how the head was arrow shaped. He imagined it penetrating him, breaching his tight opening, and sinking into his depths. He slipped his fingers through the fly and touched bare flesh, and Paul moaned in his ear.

Paul guided Leroy to roll to his back, and side by side, they worked hands down into the other’s boxers and manipulated the hard cocks within. Paul then tried to tug Leroy’s boxers down, struggling to get them over the hard cock and slipped down past the ass. Leroy raised his ass allowing the boxers to slip down his thighs. Paul pushed them down as far as he could reach, and Leroy kicked and worked his feet until the boxers disappeared over the foot of the bed. Paul raised his ass and pulled his own boxers off, tossing them carelessly to the side. They were naked, their bodies seeming to glow in the dim light. They could see each other’s cock, hard and hovering over abdomens. Leroy reached for Paul’s cock, but it moved out of reach, and he realized Paul was sliding down the bed.

“I want to see what it is like,” Paul uttered in a whisper.

Leroy lay back, head propped on a pillow so he could watch as Paul kissed his stomach, then moved down until kissing at the base of his cock. He felt the nose move through his pubic hair, then lips touch his tightening sac. The lips kept moving, up along his cock until at the head of it.

“Please Paul, don’t stop,” Leroy uttered, his voice sounding desperate.

The lips moved over the head of his cock, then slid down it as Paul took him in his mouth. All the previous hesitancy by Paul evaporated. He moved around, pushing Leroy’s legs apart so he could get between them. Leroy watched how the head moved up and down while he felt the ministrations of the lips and tongue on his cock. It increased his arousal until his cock ached for release. He began to work his hips, push upward when the head moved down. A rhythm was established, one that increased his arousal, made him gasp for breath.

“Paul,” Leroy gasped, trying to warn him he was going to cum.

Paul’s head went down and stopped with Leroy buried in his mouth. The idea Paul wanted his cum was enough to push him over the edge. He bucked upward while clutching the bed and came.  

After swallowing, Paul raised his head. It was in silhouette, the face in dark shadow, but Leroy knew Paul could see his face.

“Will you do it, too?” Paul asked.

“Yes,” Leroy replied. He sat up and pulled Paul to move, guiding him to get on his knees and move over him.

Paul was soon straddling his chest and wiping a leaking cock across his face. He stuck out his tongue and swiped at it, then reached for it to hold it still. With the cock in hand, he licked the head tasting the odd sweetness of it, then he put his lips over it and worked his head back and forth.

“Fuck,” Paul uttered.

Paul was soon fucking his mouth, rocking back and forth, plunging the cock to the back of his throat, then tugging it outward until only the head remained in his mouth. Hands took his head holding him in place as Paul’s pace increased.

“Fuck…FUCK…” Paul exclaimed.

Leroy felt the urgency, Paul’s need to cum. He felt it too, in the way the cock swelled thicker, flexed against the roof of his mouth, and how Paul worked it through his lips. Cum gushed from it, thick wads that quickly filled his mouth. He swallowed, and swallowed until the spurting cock was spent.

 

Paul eased back and looked down at Leroy amazed at what they had done. His cock hovered in Leroy’s face wet and still hard. He didn’t know how far Leroy was willing to go but he had to find out. They had sucked each off, taking the other’s load and swallowing it. Their nudity was different because of it. Both were still aroused; he had reached behind him and was toying with Leroy’s cock, the drooling head slippery in his fingers. He let go and moved down between the spread legs. He reached down and stroked Leroy until he was pumping upward, then he ran his fingers over the sac feeling the nuts shift easily within. He ran his fingers below it and saw Leroy part his legs a bit more, just a hit of greater separation. He sensed it, this opening up to him. He moved over the dark line of skin almost to his target.

Leroy brought his feet up raising his knees and spreading his ass even more. Paul could see his target, the wrinkled tight opening, and he touched it, ran a finger over it, rubbing back and forth until he heard Leroy moan.

“Will you let me?” Paul asked as he pressed against the tight opening.

“Do it,” Leroy uttered.

Paul pushed through the tightness and sank his finger into the soft heat of the hole. He worked his hand around, loosening the opening, then he used a second finger, then a third. With his manipulation it loosened around his fingers.

Legs hooked over his arms; Paul scooted closer until his cock was pressed against the opening. He pushed, slowly, feeling the tightness on the head of his cock as it squeezed through it. He shivered at the feel of it, how it increased his arousal to the point he had to fight the urge to shove inward all the way. Instead, he worked into Leroy’s depths slowly, inch by inch, until over half of his cock was inside him.

“Fuck, you feel…good,” Paul uttered as he looked over the prone body beneatg him.

Then Paul began to fuck. A slow steady rhythm, one that allowed the two of them to really feel his cock moving through the tight opening. He couldn’t believe how it felt, the way it gripped his cock, stroking up his arousal. He leaned forward, pulling the legs up and raising the ass, and he fucked harder, faster, his hips smacking down on the upturned ass.

“Fuck…do it…do it…fuck me…harder,” Leroy uttered beneath him, the broken fragmented utterances pleading with him to keep it up, to keep fucking.

“Goddamn…Leroy,” Paul uttered breathless as he kept up his increased pace, the sound of flesh smacking against flesh echoing in the room. Even the bed began to squeak and rock. Every sound in rhythm with his movement, the steady rhythm of their fuck. He felt Leroy stroking his own cock, the hand rubbing his stomach with its steady rhythm.

“I’m going to cum,” Leroy gasped.

Paul felt cum hit his chest, and the smell of it hit his nose. He glanced down at the shiny pools on Leroy’s chest and stomach, shoved into his depths and came. He tried to jam his cock deeper, pushed against the upturned ass with every ejaculation, until he was spent. He collapsed on Leroy gasping for breath and felt lips touch his neck. It was the first real intimate touch, something soft and alluring. He moved his head until his own lips were pressed against Leroy’s. They kissed with an urgency, a passion, while running hands over the other’s body. Touching and stroking the heated flesh as cum smeared between them.

When they finally pulled apart, it was Leroy who spoke first.

“Are you okay with what we done?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, shower with me, then we can get some sleep.”

 

They woke early, dressed in front of the other grinning and laughing at how things were between them. Duffel bags stowed in the trunk of the car, Paul checked them out and caught up with Leroy in the diner for breakfast. An hour later, the car gassed up, they were on the road heading east toward Oklahoma City.

They stopped for lunch an hour west of Oklahoma City, then drove through it until they came to Van Buren, just across the Arkansas River from Fort Smith. They stopped for the night, pulling into a motel in the heart of downtown only a few blocks from the river.

They ate in a tavern a couple of blocks away, then walked along the sidewalks of its main street. Back at their room, there was no pretense. They stripped in front of each other and climbed into bed together. Leroy moving into Paul’s embrace. They would kiss and touch one another, then they would fuck to the point of exhaustion.

They were late getting up, forcing them to rush to get checked out. There was breakfast at fast-foot joint, then they hit the road, not stopping until they were in Memphis. Leroy was driving and he drove around the city until they found themselves on Main Street in the heart of downtown.

“Let’s get a room and knock around for a day or so,” said Paul as he looked at a blues club they were passing.

“Okay, let’s see what we can find here in town.”

 

It was late when they stumbled into their hotel room. They had found the hotel, grabbed lunch then roamed downtown until after dark. There was Bar-be-cue for dinner then beers at a blues club. They were slightly drunk and giggling foolishly. Inside their room, Paul pushed Leroy against the wall and kissed him, then fumbled furiously with his clothes to get them off. He pushed Leroy, naked and partially aroused, on the bed and went to his knees on the floor by it, moving between Leroy’s legs. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t show any worry or embarrassment. He moved his mouth to the loose sac and sucked one nut then the other into his mouth. He tongued the lose skin, working the nuts around within it.  

Paul felt Leroy’s fingers moving over his head and how they tried to grab him by the hair, it still too short to do so. He worked his tongue and lips up along the growing cock until he could capture the head in his mouth. He didn’t toy with Leroy, instead he sucked, working his lips along the elongating shaft.

“Fuck, Paul, suck me,” Leroy uttered.

Paul sucked while running his hands over the thighs, then he slipped one down between them. He rubbed the area below the tightening sac causing Leroy to put his feet on the edge of the bed spreading his ass for Paul to have his way.

Paul rubbed the tight opening, then he penetrated it, one finger, then two, then three. He loosened it to his manipulations, working fingers as deeply as he could into Leroy’s hole. The hands on his head held him tight pushing his mouth down on the cock. He nearly choked when cum hit the back of his throat, but he recovered and sucked and swallowed as the cock spurt wad after wad into his mouth.

He stood and began to remove his own clothes. He tugged the t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. He undid his jeans and worked them down and off each leg. Boxers were dropped to his ankles, and he kicked them to the side, all the while Leroy was sitting up on elbows watching him.

“You want to fuck me?” Leroy asked in a devilish tone.

“Yes, I do.”

Leroy moved around, got on his hands and knees, ass right at the edge of the bed.

“Well, don’t keep me waiting.”

Stroking his cock to full hardness, Paul moved to Leroy, right up to his spread ass and dragged his cock over it. Leroy dropped to his elbows, and it spread his ass wider apart, and Paul put his cock to the loosened opening, and penetrated Leroy with one long slow push.

Paul held the narrow waist and began to fuck. He drove into Leroy’s depths, tugged outward, at times all the way, only to breach the opening again. His pace slowly increased until the bed rocked beneath Leroy. Then he pulled out and pushed Leroy to move up on the bed toward the center of it. He followed on his knees, coming up behind him, pushing him to bend over again, then sank his cock into Leroy’s depths and fucked. He hammered his cock inside Leroy until sweat ran in rivulets down his face, chest, and back. He dug fingers into the firm flesh holding tight to Leroy while maintaining the pace of their fuck.

“Jesus, fuck me. Fuck me harder,” Leroy uttered.

Paul reached for the shoulders and pulled Leroy upright, bearhugging their bodies together. He felt the trapped heat between them, the slick rub of flesh against flesh, and reaching around Leroy capturing the flopping cock, he felt the rock hardness of it. He stroked Leroy while fucking his ass with a brutal pace he didn’t think he could maintain. Then Leroy cried out, shuddered in his arms, and he felt Leroy’s cock flex within his hand as Leroy came, spraying the bed with cum. He pushed him down in it and moved over him. Leroy held his ass up, letting him fuck it.

“I going to…”

Paul shoved into Leroy’s depths and came, shivering and jerking with every ejaculation until spent and gasping for breath.

 

They woke late in a tangle of arms and legs. There was a kiss, gentle and playful, then Paul led Leroy to the bathroom so they could shower together. Hands were on cocks getting them hard, then Leroy was sucking Paul. Up to this point, Leroy had been the one to take Paul’s fuck, and he wondered if Paul would ever be willing for their roles to reverse. He stood up and took Paul’s erection in hand, stroking it slowly to keep him fully aroused.

“Will you let me?” Leroy asked.

Paul smiled, then turned to face the wall. Braced on each hand, he shifted his feet back and apart.

“Go easy when you first get inside me,” said Paul looking over his shoulder.

“Okay,” Leroy replied as he ran a hand down the long back, over the curved ass cheeks, then down between them. He rubbed the tight opening, then as Paul had done to him, he penetrated it. One finger became two, then three as he worked to loosen it.

“Fuck…that feels good. Put it in me. Put it in me…I’m ready,” Paul uttered, pushing back on Leroy’s fingers.

Leroy penetrated Paul. He eased his cock through the tightness and sank inch after inch into the hole. He pushed until his hips were pressed against the round ass. It surprised him at how easily Paul took him and he pressed tight to the ass savoring how it felt to be inside Paul. To have this connection of such intimacy.

“Fuck me. Do it. Fuck me,” Paul uttered with an urgency that surprised and amused Leroy.

Leroy held Paul by the shoulders, holding his body back, and began to fuck. He tugged outward until only the flared head remained inside him, then he pushed, all the way until once again pressed against the round ass. Over and over, slowly building up his pace, Leroy worked his cock in Paul’s depths. Soon the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the small bathroom, mixed with the obscene utterances from Paul. The pleadings for Leroy to fuck him harder, faster, while his own cock flopped between his thighs.

“Goddamn…make me cum,” Paul uttered in a strained breathless voice as he took his own cock in hand.

Leroy pulled Paul upright holding him by the throat. He pulled him back against his chest as he hammered cock inside him. Suddenly Paul was shuddering against his chest, and he saw cum arc through the air in front of him, knowing Paul was coming. He thrust harder into his depths, pushing him against the wall. Then he came too, pumping his load into Paul’s depths.

For another day, they roamed the city. That night they checked out a couple of bars, then went back to their room where they had sex again. Paul with Leroy folded up beneath him, and Leroy on Paul’s back. Then in the shower, with Leroy against the wall, taking Paul once again.

The next morning, they were on the road heading southeast toward Birmingham. They drove through Tupelo, then across the state line until coming into Birmingham in time for a late lunch.

“How far to Atlanta?” Leroy asked as Paul was looking at a map.

“I guess around two and a half hours or so,” Paul replied.

“You want to knock around here then leave in time to get there for dinner?”

“Sure,” said Paul, knowing Leroy was in no rush to get home after some of the things he had said in the car. Neither was he and for the same reasons.

 

It was after dark when they finally pulled into a motel on the outskirts of Atlanta. They were tired and hungry and ready to get out of the car. A quick dinner at a fast-food joint next to the motel and they retired to their room for the night. There was a slow passionate fuck, Leroy on his back with his legs over Paul’s shoulders. They seemed to move as one, gracefully, casually, until Paul came. Then Paul sucked Leroy, lay between his legs, and sucked his cock until it filled his mouth with cum.

They showered together, running soapy hands over the other, then letting the shower rinse off the suds while they kissed.  In bed, Leroy snuggled up to Paul, held him in his arms, and let the long day and their fatigue drift them into a deep sleep.

The next day they drove into Atlanta, parked in Midtown, and strolled around the park. In Little Five Points they ate lunch in a small restaurant, feeling out of place among the other patrons, then strolled the few blocks of the business district. And all day, they felt the other’s unease. Their trip was nearly over and the time to get back to their lives upon them. But neither knew what that would look like and kept trying to imagine what kind of life they would have back in their hometowns. What each of them believed was they could not have the kind of life they had been living over the last few days, one spent with the other. They knew the labels, the attitudes that prevailed, and no one they knew would have any acceptance of it. They could go back to their old lives and try to pick up where they left off, or they could try to have a life with each other, thus cutting off everyone they knew.

Neither had the courage to attempt the latter.

That night in a different hotel, one on the east side of Atlanta, they called their families. The next morning, they were going to knock around Atlanta until after lunch, then they would make the short drive down to Macon, Georgia, only an hour and half to the south. Leroy would stay with Paul’s family that night, waiting for his dad to drive over from Enterprise to pick him up. Paul would keep the car, giving Leroy the money for his share, since he had an old truck waiting back home.

 

Four Months Later

Paul leaned over the engine of a Buick, listening to it idle. He had serviced the car, changing the oil, filters, the belt to the alternator, and the spark plugs. The car ran smoothly, barely a vibration to be felt through the metal frame that held the radiator. Paul wished his life was running as smoothly.

The job at Hank’s Repair and Towing had turned out to be a good job. The pay was good, the hours not bad, and the other guys were friendly, going out for beers after work on occasion. At home, his family still walked around him on tip toes, always talking in low tones meant to feel nurturing and safe. It made him on edge, but he knew they meant well, for night after night they heard him wake screaming or found him sitting out on the porch staring up at the dark sky.

His mother and a couple of his friends from high school tried to fix him up, blind dates that ended with hurt feelings and no chance of a second date. He felt relieved each time the woman stormed from the table in whatever restaurant he had agreed to meet her.

He felt rudderless, afraid even, for he didn’t know how to get his old life back. The only times he wasn’t dwelling on the war were when he was at the shop, doing a difficult repair job. One that required him to focus on what he was doing and not let his mind drift off to the jungles of Vietnam, the choppers flying overhead, the explosions and gunfire, and the boobytraps. Then he thought of Leroy. Constantly the image of Leroy came to him. Strolling along streets of some city, sitting across from him in a restaurant laughing at some lame joke or comment, and in some cheap motel, lying with him in bed.

He had called once, a couple of days after Leroy left, and it had been so hard to hang up that he shut himself up in his room and cried. He wondered if Leroy had felt the same, for neither had attempted another call.

“Hey, Paul, I think you got that one fixed,” said Buster as he strolled by, patting him on the back.

“OH, yeah, I think so too.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m good,” Paul replied, but he saw the concerned look as Buster went over to the Impala with the blown head gasket. The guys knew he had been in Vietnam. Buster had been there too, during the time it wasn’t officially a war, and he seemed to know better than the others what Paul was going through. They had talked briefly about it in vague terms and never about how it truly affected them.

“Well…Hank said to wait on Mr. Wilson’s LTD and start on the Camaro for that kid.”

“Why?”

“Mr. Wilson wants to go ahead and change the tires and Hank had to order them.”

“Okay. I guess I’m working on a Camaro,” Paul joked, trying to seem like one of the guys. But Buster smiled in that way that spoke to how he, and Buster, were outsiders. They had seen things that no one should ever see, and that was not something a man could forget. He wished Leroy were here. The only time he had felt calm since getting back to the states was when he had been with Leroy.

 

Leroy lifted another sixty-pound bag of seed and went out the vertical lift door to the dock that ran along the side of the warehouse. He handed the bag off to Justin who was in the bed of the pickup stacking the bags. Going back into the warehouse, he felt the tightness in his shoulders, the pain that had been developing in his lower back, but he didn’t feel the panic he felt when it was quiet. The kind of quiet that had until recently meant something was about to happen. An explosion or machine gun fire that would cut down a man.

His uncle had gotten him the job at the feed and seed store out on the outskirts of town, one that catered to the farmers in the rural areas around Enterprise. There was a store up front that sold gardening supplies, garden seeds, and in the right season, vegetable and flowering plants. The store was air conditioned, two wall units set in the old transoms of the entry doors. But his job was in the warehouse behind the store. A large unconditioned building with the most physical labor. It was back breaking work, and the heat of summer made it almost unendurable, therefore by the end of a shift Leroy would be exhausted. He would grab something to eat, get cleaned up, and go to bed where restless sleep overtook him.

It had taken a couple of days, but the other guys eventually understood he was not going to discuss the war. It was hard enough not to think of it. The constant flashbacks, events that haunted his dreams and came to him during the day during the times when it was quiet, a time when most men would be at rest, he was in turmoil.

And he thought of Paul.

He played back the cross-country road trip, how they began to sleep together, then crossed the line and began to have sex. No matter how hard he tried to push the memories away, telling himself it was wrong, just an anomaly in his life, he pictured him. Paul walking in front of him along some sidewalk, sitting across a table in some greasy spoon, standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon, and hovering over him in bed. The memory of how it felt, the touches, the kisses, the penetrations. It tore at his insides and made his heart ache. There had been times he thought he was having a heart attack, gasping for breath, and choking on his sobs. It felt like madness, and he wondered how he would endure it.

Sitting on a stack of seed, he took a drink from his thermos, the coffee still warm, trying not to think of it. But he pictured Paul, thinking of their one phone call since getting back. The strained conversation, hearing Paul finally hang up, then the rush of loneliness that swept over him. He had said he would call, but every time he picked up the phone to dial him, he felt that knot in his stomach and his heart rate increase making him feel like he could die, so the phone was put back into its cradle and the days passed.

Watching Jerry sweep the warehouse floor, it made him think of Paul. Jerry was just a kid, sixteen working part time, but he had the same hair color, the same general build, and most troubling to Leroy, the same south Georgian drawl, having moved from Americus last year. He pictured Paul coming out of a bathroom in those cheap boxers, then he pictured him naked, vulnerable, someone who shared so much with him. He wondered what it would be like if they had tried. Just tried to have a life together. He knew it meant living somewhere else. But he also knew he wasn’t living, not now, not really. He turned down going on blind dates, wouldn’t even consider it. He had refused to go the family reunion over in Dothan, and much to his mother’s dismay, refused to step foot in the church.

“Hey, Leroy, there’s someone here to see you,” yelled Mary Beth from the door to the store.

“Who is it?”

“Don’t know; didn’t ask,” she replied.

Leroy got to his feet and walked past Jerry with images of Paul coming to mind. “Stop it,” he uttered to himself under his breath as he approached the door.

He entered the corridor that passed by the two toilet rooms on one side and the owner’s office on the other, entering the store behind the counter where Mary Beth was back at the register ringing up someone. He glanced around the store wondering who was there to see him. He wondered if it was one of his cousins or an old classmate there to coerce him to go out with them for drinks. Then he saw a ballcap with brown hair curling out around it moving down one of the aisles. The way the person walked, a slight bounce in their step, the way the head moved…it wasn’t possible.

Leroy lifted the counter gate and moved toward the guy that was nearing the front window. When the guy rounded the end of the aisle, he saw him and froze.

“Paul?”

Leroy had only whispered the name, but Paul looked up as if he had heard him.

“Hey, Leroy.”

 

Route 84 runs through Enterprise, connecting it to Dothan to the east. Out on the edge of town, there is the old motel, one that only truckers and construction crews and those traveling on tight budgets would ever stop for a room. It is like most others, one story with a canopy along the front facing the highway. In front of room 12 sat a 1964 Ford Fairlane and a 1965 Dodge D100 pickup, the Fairlane’s engine ticking as it cooled down from its long drive.

The curtains for room 12 are pulled tight, and the door chained and locked, for inside is no one’s business.

Clothes are scattered over the floor, the covers of the bed at the foot of it, and with one more push of a foot, roll to the floor to join the clothes. Moans and low desperate utterings break the silence. The bed begins to squeak, a familiar rhythm, steady in its pace.

Leroy is on his back, legs around Paul’s waist. Paul is over him, penetrating him, working cock into his depths, pushing deeper and deeper until he feels a fullness he had almost forgotten. They kiss. They touch each other, fingers moving over skin to renew their familiarity. Paul pushes into Leroy’s depths, and they moan in unison.

They are unhurried. No one knows their location. No one is expecting them. Paul’s family thinks he went to Atlanta for a long weekend. Leroy’s are used to him not coming in until late, if at all, some nights spent driving the roads in the countryside outside Enterprise.

Paul eases out of Leroy, rolls to his back. There are no words needed, for Leroy knows what he wants. He moves over him straddling his waist. He reaches behind his back and holds Paul’s cock up as he moves over it. He eases down on it, feeling the fullness of the penetration, then he sets up a steady rhythm, fucking his ass on it. He moves with desire, lust, and a longing that threatens to consume him. He leans back resting on his hands and moves his ass faster, at times slamming down on Paul’s abdomen. He fucks himself on Paul’s cock and takes his own in hand.

Then Leroy throws his head back and cums, thick wads raining down on his chest and stomach. When his cock is spent, he sits up and renews his fuck, moving with an urgency determined to make Paul come. Paul grabs his ankles and pushes upward, then shudders and jerks with release. The cock buried in his hole flexes with every ejaculation until Paul too is spent.

They get in the shower and touch and kiss and fuck again. They get back in bed and soon Paul is beneath Leroy. They hold out for a long time, the pace of their fuck slow and passionate, but eventually Paul slickens their stomachs with cum as Leroy fills Paul’s hole with his cum.

Then they lay on the bed finally exhausted and sated, Leroy laying against Paul’s chest.

“Will you come with me? Will you leave with me?” whispers Paul.

Leroy thinks of it, this impossible dream he has considered so often he almost laughs at hearing Paul ask, He turns his head up to look at him, to see if he is truly serious. He sees it in the eyes and knows.

“Yes.”