A Transformation

Connor pulled into the parking lot next door. It was the lot for the farm supply store, which agreed to allow overflow parking. It was a big day for the small town of Damascus for it was the grand opening of the new pool. They had been petitioning the state for funds, held bake sales, raffles, and pushed for donations at the high school sporting events, PTA meetings and in the churches to raise their part of the budget. Twelve long years it took, but Damascus finally had its pool. It was three months late in opening, being the last day of June, but all the fretting, angry phone calls and slow drive byes were forgotten. Instead the pool area was busy, and the adjacent picnic area had smoke billowing from grills full of hamburgers and hot dogs.

Connor climbed out of his old truck, a 95 F-150 he bought a few months after turning sixteen. He was nineteen now, home for the summer after finishing his freshman year at college. He glanced in the large side mirror, checking his hair, then strolled across the gravel lot toward the noise of many voices, the splash of water, and the smell of grilling meat.

“Mr. Hanks, Mrs. Meadows,” Connor greeted the town’s mayor and treasurer as he cut across the picnic area, then made his way into the pool area. He looked to his left and saw a separate fenced in area for young children with their wading pool and small playground equipment around the perimeter. There were several frazzled looking adults trying to keep watch while small children ran from one place to the next. He looked right toward the bath house and saw some of his classmates from high school. Rose, Cheryl, and Brenda, along with Bell, Brenda’s younger sister, were at the outdoor shower, taking turns using it to rinse off. Under the porch of the bathhouse, there were several adults, chaperoning no doubt, and toward the far fence some of the guys from high school who appeared to be just watching, none of them wet. In fact, two were in cargo shorts and plaid shirts.

Looking back at the pool, he saw it was a simple rectangle, and by its large size, he assumed it was Olympic size, something some in the town were adamant the new pool would be. It was busy, with young adults and teens, and he recognized most of them. Moving around the pool deck, he made his way to the opposite side where lounge chairs lined the fence. Most were taken, but down near the far end, a place where the chairs were not protected by the trellis structure, he laid claim to the last chair, pulling his tank top off and tossing it over the back. He laid his towel over the seat then sprayed sunscreen over his exposed upper body, arms and legs. He rubbed the sunscreen over his face, hoping he had not missed a spot. He had black hair and dark brown eyes, but that was the only dark thing about him, for he was fair skinned, almost glowing in the sunlight. If it were not for his muscular body from baseball in high school and his continuing to work out, he might not be so quick to expose it. But when he turned toward the pool, he saw the looks. Most were girls, some even older women, and it did please him to have the admiration. But what pleased him more was the looks by some of the guys. He saw the way they cut their eyes his way, or gave him a quick glance before looking away, only to look again. To have a guy admire his body was something that made him feel his sexuality, something kept hidden from everyone in Damascus; his parents, friends, former classmates, even his old girlfriend, Rachel, who appeared not to be in attendance, something he was grateful. It had been an ugly breakup when he confessed how he didn’t love her, and for weeks she had called him, calling him names then hanging up. Even if he were attracted to girls, Rachel would not have been the one due to her mood swings that drove him nuts. Why he dated her he wasn’t sure, but it had been something set up by Cheryl and Brenda and he had gone along, thinking there would be no harm. How wrong he had been.

He eased down on the lounge chair so he could just watch. He would get in the pool eventually, but first he wanted to just lay back and rest, while letting his eyes roam. He looked at Danny and Bill in the shallow end, the water only up to their waist revealing their lean bodies, still more teenager than man, but Danny captured his attention with his angular features  and the hoop earrings in each ear. All through high school, it was Danny that gave off a vibe that he might be gay, but Connor could never be sure. Even now, he saw how Danny was more focused on what Bill was saying than the scantily clad girls around them. Coming from the outdoor shower, dripping wet, was Paul, who was about five foot four, with blonde hair and a boyish face. Paul had been a year ahead of him in high school so he was twenty years old, or would be soon, but Connor shook his head at how Paul looked more fifteen or sixteen than twenty. But he admitted to himself he was attracted to Paul, with his dimples and hair left long, and those dime size nipples he imagined running his fingers over. But the thing about Paul that captured his eyes the most was the bulge. It looked impossibly large within the wet trunks with the way they clung to his body, revealing what Connor knew was a thick cock. He’d seen it in the showers during P.E. and still felt embarrassed at how hard it was to look away before getting caught. Where some boys captured his imagination with visions of first dates and holding hands, with Paul it was always sexual in nature.

A familiar laugh, and Connor saw Jerry talking to a girl he didn’t know. Jerry was talking to impress with the way he would push his long brown hair out of his face or reach out and touch the girl on the arm when making some point. Jerry wasn’t a guy with model good looks. His nose was a bit too large, eyebrows a bit too thick and a body that looked a little soft, one that Connor knew never worked out. But there was something about his personality that made up for it, made him attractive to others with his outgoing nature. Connor knew if Jerry were gay, he wouldn’t hesitate to go out with him, for he knew the dates would be enjoyable.

Connor scanned the pool, glancing over other guys, most for one reason or another did not capture his attention. For most of them, it was their personalities that did it, some cockiness or arrogance that Connor just could not stand. He scanned the pool until he was looking at his end of it where it was deep and thus standing to talk not possible. There were a few lazily swimming back and forth, and a few hanging onto the coping talking quietly amongst themselves. Then he saw someone he didn’t know or recognize. The guy looked familiar, but he couldn’t be sure. He was right at the end of the pool holding to the coping looking across the pool. Connor wished he were closer for he couldn’t see the guy’s eyes clearly. He wanted to know what they were looking at: girl or boy. It was important, something that mattered a great deal to him. It would mean he wasn’t alone, the only guy into other guys.

The guy went under and rose slowly, head back letting the water run away from his face. Connor looked at the blonde hair, short on the sides but long enough on top to hang into his eyes. Pushing the hair back out of them, Connor saw the darker armpit hair, something that spoke to the guy’s masculine nature. There was a white shell necklace around his neck, and it appeared to glow against the darker skin. ‘Who is he?’ Connor asked himself, frustrated for he felt he knew him.

Connor saw someone approaching and taking his eyes off the guy realized it was Rose. She went to the pool’s edge, stooped down saying something to him. Connor sat up, suddenly recognizing him. He couldn’t believe it. Didn’t think it possible someone could be so different after only a couple of years. But it was Trevor, Rose’s younger brother. He turned and lifted himself out of the pool, revealing the long lean body. When he stood his physical stature was evident, towering over some of the others. Connor estimated he had to be six three or taller. And the body, so different from the last time he had seen Trevor, who had been a skinny fourteen-year old boy. He would be seventeen, and obviously much more mature, but the lean muscular body shocked him. He didn’t notice how the girls around the pool were staring too. Or how some of the other boys were looking. With eyes locked on Trevor, he scanned the body, up and down, over and over. And his eyes lingered over the bulging crotch and low hanging trunks more than anywhere else.

Trevor followed Rose to the lounge chairs on the opposite side of the pool, dried off with a towel, then slipped a tank top on, and despite the partial concealment, Connor still saw the muscular nature of it. The shoulders, the long arms, and how the tank top hung provocatively around the torso, loose, concealing the flat stomach and chest which had just enough definition.

Connor watched them leave, weaving through the others, and with Trevor so much taller than most of the others, he was easy to follow. And Connor’s eyes followed him until he was out of sight. Then the pool felt empty, despite the crowd. The guy that had captured his attention the most was gone. He eased up and went to the pool’s edge.

“Hey Connor, you home for the summer?”  asked Paul.

“Hey…yeah. What are you up to?”

“Not much. I’ve been taking classing out at Tech.”

That’s good,” Connor replied as he sat on the coping letting his legs dangle in the cool waters. “The pool is nice.”

“Yes, it is and about time too. I didn’t think they’d ever get it built.”

“Have you talked to Gabriel?” Connor asked, referring to one of their classmates that had been a friend, but not one he was close enough to stay in touch after graduation.

“Not since he left.”

“Left?”

“You didn’t hear? He moved out west somewhere. Denver, Portland or…I’m not sure.”

“I didn’t know,” Connor replied.

“Hey, catch ya later,” said Paul, “there’s Brenda.”

Connor knew Paul had a crush on Brenda all through high school and he would talk to her, hang out with her in groups, but never seemed to be able to take the next step and just ask her out. He watched Paul cross the pool and move up next to Brenda and Cheryl who were sitting at the pool’s edge. Easing off the coping, he let his body slip under and when he rose back to the surface, he slowly swarm to the place Trevor had been just a short time before. He thought about a time on the bus when he had dismissed him, both for his age but also for his appearance. It embarrassed him to think of it, but he remembered that day vividly, for it was one of the first times he really looked at the other boys on the bus and gave measure to each one. To look upon them and think about what it would be like to flirt with them, to hold their hand or sneak a kiss, like the other boys did with girls. It was the first time he thought, ‘I’m gay.’ It had been a warm, dry early morning, the sun already heating up the air, when he climbed onto the bus for the ride to school.

Three Years Earlier

The bus bounced over the rough pavement. The old road had not been repaved for decades, evident by the alligatored surface and broken edges, and patches so numerous they overlapped in some sections. Connor sat one seat from the last, listening to the bravado of the seniors while watching Bill flirt with Jenny. Every whisper, every touch, every giggle was fascinating. This ritual between a boy and a girl. He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand what feelings were supposed to trigger it. He looked over at Mary and Sharon, two senior girls who were cheerleaders, popular and both with boyfriends, and he wondered about their appearance. Their beauty he saw, he just didn’t feel any sense of arousal by it. He glanced around at Matt and Bryan, two seniors who played football. Muscular, t-shirts stretched tight over chest, and he felt some sense they were the ones he wanted to know better. Turning back around, he scanned the bus, looking from one boy to the next.  Just across the aisle is Mark and Gary, with Charlie in front of them, turned in his seat whispering something that makes the three of them howl with laughter. Of the three boys, all his own age, it is Charlie that captures Connor’s eye. Tall, lanky build and dark brown hair, and the dark brown eyes to go with it, Charlie is cute. Not attractive, but boyishly cute, and Connor, just for a few seconds considers the possibilities, if only Charlie were willing.

Two seats up Ricky and Quinton are huddled together, giggling at something Ricky has in his backpack. They are a year younger, starting to reveal the men they’ll become. Connor considers them, how he finds each attractive. But he also knows their personalities and couldn’t fathom anything ever happening with either one. Across the aisle, a few seats further up is Mark’s brother Jacob sitting with Bobby, the son of the preacher over at the Primitive Baptist Church on Chicory Lane, and in front of them the Mitchell boy, whose first name Connor can never remember. And two seats in front of him, sitting alone, is Trevor, Rose’s brother. They are all two years his junior, far too much difference in age to consider, being only fourteen. To his way of thinking, they were still kids. But he sees the possibilities, how two of them could be become very attractive men. Bobby with his black hair and fair skin could become forbidden fruit, and the notion makes Connor smile, then stop quickly, afraid someone would notice. But it is Jacob who appears to be filling out already, and Connor knows he is already on the varsity baseball team as a third basemen. He looks at the boy with his shaggy long hair, and how repeatedly Jacob pushes it behind his ear as he leans over looking at something Bobby is pointing at in some book.

Connor considers them, each one until he looks at Trevor again. Why he looks at the boy, Connor is not sure. Maybe its because he is Rose’s brother and she is attractive, and he wonders if Trevor could become so too. It was hard to tell with the way he let his hair grow out long, concealing half his face. Connor wondered how he saw to walk around the way it hung over his eyes. But despite the cheap hair cuts and the way it was far longer than the norm, it was such a golden blonde, that girls flirted with Trevor, who seem to blush and stammer, then run away each time. Then there was the body, already showing signs of becoming tall, which made him look even skinnier. His clothes hung on him so loose as to never look right. Connor knew some of Trevor’s clothes were handed down from his older brother, who was shorter, for the legs were always too short revealing the white socks he always wore. Connor did wonder about Trevor’s personality, what he was really like, for Rose was outgoing and so nice, no one ever judged her for coming from a poor family. But Trevor did nothing to stop any such judgments, and Connor felt guilty about it, not because he would ever do such a thing, but because some of his friends had done so.

The bus approached the school, only a mile left in their ride and it dawned on Connor how he had been looking at the other boys. In the past, he considered their looks, making comparisons to his own, but this time he looked at them with a longing, a sense of attraction that caused his face to feel hot, knowing he was blushing with the realization. He had tried to suppress it, pretend it wasn’t what it meant, but as the bus slowed to turn into the drive at the drop-off, he finally admitted to himself what he had been denying for over a year. He was gay.

_____________________________________________

Connor left the pool around four, strolling out with several others. Some had dinner plans or dates later that evening, some were just tired of being in the hot sun, and others, like Connor, were just ready to leave to get away from the younger kids that had come to dominate the pool.  He slipped on his tank top, climbed into his old truck, and headed home. With windows down, the hot air swirled around in the cab, but it felt comforting to him. The radiating warmth of his body and the hot air made him feel relaxed, and he drove unhurried along the streets of town until in the familiar neighborhood he called home.

In the kitchen, his mother was stirring about, and he saw hamburger buns, onion, tomatoes, and a bag of chips laid out on the counter.

“Are we cooking out?” Connor asked as he eased onto a bar stool.

“Yes. I’ve invited the Millers. We’ve not gotten together in far too long and I thought you might like to see Wesley. He’s home for the summer too.”

“Wesley,” Connor repeated, thinking of the person who had been his best friend in middle and high school, although they had drifted apart in the last few months, with Wesley dating Karen and he trying to stay concealed. “What’s he doing? I’ve not heard from him since graduation.”

“He’s in college over in Mississippi…State, I think.”

“I figured he would get married to Karen,” Connor uttered in a low voice, hiding the way it had hurt to have Wesley suddenly too busy to hang out, spending all his free time with her. He knew it was just jealously, and something else he dared not think of.

“That Turner girl? No, she married that Sanders boy.”

“What? Noah Sanders?” replied Connor thinking of the boy that was a year ahead of him and who worked in his father’s tractor supply store.

“Yes, that is the one.”

“Wow,” Connor whispered.

“Well, don’t just sit there; go get cleaned up.”

Connor saw his mother’s smile and couldn’t help but smile back. He wondered if she would smile if she knew. He slipped off the stool and headed to his room.

Showered and standing in front of the mirror with the towel around his waist, Connor stared at his reflection, wondering who was this person staring back? He saw the familiar, the characteristics that made up his body, but he wondered about what was within, the conscious part of his self. The part that made him truly different.

He ran a hand down his chest, feeling the curved form of the pec, the different feel of the nipple from the surrounding flesh, the flat stomach with the narrow trail of hair that disappeared in the towel. He slipped the towel free and let it drop around his ankles as he ran his hand down along the trail of hair until he was touching himself. The sense of his own masculinity, the beginning of an aroused state by his own touch. He watched his fingers toy with his cock, and how it responded, getting thicker and longer.

He stopped, knowing he didn’t have time to masturbate, although at the moment he wanted nothing more than to stroke himself off. His arousal made him think of his sex, his attractions, and in turn, he thought of Wesley, acknowledging what he could not in high school. Then he thought of Trevor, picturing him climbing out of the pool. The tall, lean body glistening wetly in the afternoon sun. A body chiseled and curved with a form he knew as a runner’s or swimmer’s, and it made him feel alone. He wasn’t like the other boys, able to flirt and date and mess around with the person they desired without judgment.

College was to be his coming out, the time for him to explore his sexuality, but the last two semesters had been tougher than he realized. There was the class load, subjects that tested him with a depth of information that his high school never approached. And there were his old fears, and a lack of confidence. How was he to find someone who would go out with him? There were so many guys in the dorm, even on his floor and there had to be others who were gay, but he wasn’t sure about that first move. He questioned the signals he thought others were sending out, consciously or unconsciously, and he worried how others would respond if they knew. So, he had let his freshman year slip by, feeling alone.

Connor sat on the edge of his bed naked, and he looked down at his flaccid cock, smirking at how quickly it lost its aroused state. He fell back and clasped his hands behind his head, wondering how he would break out of this cycle he found himself. Staring at the ceiling he wondered if he could return to college and just come out to the guys. Put it out there he was gay and see what happened. Would it change him, this confession? Would it free him? Trevor came to mind, the change in physical appearance and it was so intriguing and appealing. He had seen the girls around the pool try to capture Trevor’s attention, and fail, and he imaged it was because Trevor was gay. That he wasn’t the only one in Damascus. When was the last time he had seen Trevor before today at the pool? He thought back to all the times they passed in the corridor of high school. He had stopped riding the bus in twelfth grade when he bought the truck, so it was only in the changing of classes, rushing down the corridor that he had seen him. But there had been an instance that summer after graduation. He remembered the rainy day, one of several where it had been drizzling rain off and on for days. Everything was wet but the heat had not been dissipated, so it was not only humid, it was hot too. Dog days someone called them. He had gone to Greenville to get some supplies for college, an excuse to get out of the house after being inside for a couple of days. He was on his way back when he stopped at the small store down in Pine Hill, the farming community to the south of town. It was old, the white painted walls faded with raw wood exposed in places. There were two gas pumps in front and a kerosene tank on the side under a tin roof lean to.  Mounted above were two metal signs that were so old and faded, Connor had no idea what they had promoted.  In the parking lot sat two trucks and an old Jeep and around on the opposite side an old Buick with faded paint and a political bumper sticker from thirty years before.

One Year Earlier

He had raced across the gravel parking lot and into the dark wood interior, for he wanted to grab a soda. There was a man behind the counter and two others leaning against an old drink cooler, one with sliding doors on top. They nodded in greeting, then went back to their gossip about some preacher over in Summerville cheating with a deacon’s wife.  He turned, going toward the newer reach-in drink coolers along the front wall. A door was open with someone reaching in for a drink. The door was fogged up concealing them, but as he approached, they closed the door and he saw the tall boy before him. It was Trevor. But he looked the same, just taller. A lot taller. There was the same long hair poorly cut, the same handed down clothing but Trevor's demeanor seemed to be less introverted. 

“Trevor? How’s it going?”

“Oh, Connor…okay.”

“What is Rose up to?”

“She’s taking nursing classes in Greenville and helping in dad’s shop.”

“Really? That’s good to hear. Tell her I said hello.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, wait, did you say your dad has his own shop now?”

Connor knew the rumors when he had been in middle and high school, and there were times Rose confirmed some of them. Jackson Marshall had a drinking problem that got him fired from the Chevy dealership down in Hendersonville, where he had been a mechanic. Afterward, Connor wasn’t sure what happened, but he knew their mother worked at the grocery store in town trying to keep their household going. It explained a lot. The poverty, and why Trevor was so introverted. 

Trevor stopped and looked Connor in the eye for the first time ever, revealing his blue eyes, and for a second, there was a smile. 

“Yeah, he stopped drinking a couple of years ago, and last winter finally got his own shop. Rose and I help.”

“That’s great. You work on cars too?”

“Yes.”

“Where is it?”

“Out on 421, just past the funeral home.”

“The old paint and body shop?”

“That’s the place. I’ve got to go. Dad is waiting on the parts I went to Greenville to get. I’ll tell Rose you said hello.”

“Thanks,” Connor replied, and he turned to watch the tall skinny boy walk to the counter, wondering what his life had been like, glad to hear things were better for him. Rose had been defiant about it, able to not let it define her, but Trevor had seemed crushed by it. 

_____________________________________________

Connor thought of that skinny boy from last summer trying to figure out how he became the guy he had seen at the pool. The image of that long lean muscular body materialized before him. It was wet, water droplets covering it as it glistened in the sunlight. There was the new haircut, short on the sides and long on top, and still so unbelievably blonde. Most boys who had blonde hair had it darken up as they got older, but Trevor’s remained so golden, bright as sunshine, that it seemed to glow in the sunlight. He remembered something Rose had said once, how Trevor hated being the youngest, always getting handed down clothes and toys. Today, Trevor had on new trunks, bright red, and he didn’t look like that boy who rode the bus. The one who kept to himself.

The bedroom door swung open and Wesley froze in the opening.

“Whoa…OH…I’m sorry,” Wesley exclaimed, stepping back, rapidly closing the door.

Connor sat up and covered himself with his hands, knowing it was too late. Why it bothered him, he wasn’t sure, for it was not like Wesley hadn’t seen him naked before, the two of them changing in front of each other all the time when they were younger.

“Give me a minute,” Connor called out, as he jumped up and went to the dresser.

Connor and Wesley were walking across the rear yard. It was dark, but the security light on the garage lit up the rear yard. They moved to the swing under a trellis, and Wesley sat down, using one foot to swing back and forth. Their parents were still sitting around the table, covered with their dirtied plates and empty glasses. It was Wesley who suggested they walk outside, and Connor leaned against a post of the trellis wondering what Wesley wanted to talk about.

“How’s college?” asked Wesley.

“It’s good. A bit harder than I anticipated, but I think I’ll do better next year,” Connor replied.

“It was a shock that first few weeks.”

“I didn’t know you were going to Mississippi State.”

“I wasn’t until I got a scholarship to go there.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, I do. What about you? You like it at Auburn?”

Connor nodded his head, wondering when Wesley would get to what he really wanted to talk about.

“Connor, I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“The end of senior year.”

“Well, I didn’t do anything to stop us from drifting apart either.”

“Can I ask you something? You have to promise not to get mad.”

Connor flinched, looked at Wesley wondering if he were going to ask him the one question he didn’t know if he could answer.

“I could be wrong, and if I am, just tell me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t know how…when I got to State, I found myself in an atmosphere so different from high school. There were two guys from China, one from Spain, several from Central America and… hell, from all over. And it was eye opening, to say the least, to hear the different opinions and views that no one around here would dare utter. But the most shocking thing on our floor was Shelby O’Reilly from Knoxville, Tennessee telling us last winter he was bisexual. I mean he just admitted it as if it were nothing. Some of the guys picked on him but it was obvious they were nervous around Shelby. Hell, I was too, until I realized I had been around him for over a semester and not once had he done anything to justify my fear. He was the same easy-going guy as before. He just didn’t hide the fact he was going out with both sexes. It was crazy,” Wesley laughed at the thought of it.

“What if he had been gay, not bisexual? Would that have made a difference?”

“No. Downstairs, there was this guy, named Gavin. He got outed last April by his roommate who found some stuff on his laptop. At first everyone seemed cool with it, but a couple of weeks later some of the guys and I were coming back late from a movie and found three guys cornering Gavin outside the dorm. Gavin’s shirt was torn, and his bottom lip was bleeding, so it was obvious they had been fighting.

“I knew it was wrong, those boys jumping him like that and so did the other guys. We stepped in and had to throw a few punches but…I realized it didn’t matter. Gavin was gay and it wasn’t anything that concerned me. It was just a part of who he was,” said Wesley, falling silent and looking down at the ground.

Connor felt his heart racing, and his face felt flush. He was glad it was dark, his face in shadow, for he knew otherwise, Wesley could see how terrified he felt. He didn’t know what to say, even though he saw the opening Wesley was providing him.

“Connor, that party at Melissa’s, you remember, that silly Valentine’s Day party?”

“Yes?” Connor stammered.

“We were outside around the firepit when Melissa’s cousin, the one from Atlanta, came out. I remember how the girls fawned over him all night, but it was the way you looked at him I remember the most.”

“I…”

“Connor, it’s okay if you are, and if not, just say so and don’t be mad at me, but as your friend…”

“Am I gay?”

Wesley nodded his head as he looked up at Connor. Face illuminated by the security light, Connor saw the sincerity behind this question floating between them.

“Yes, Wesley, I’m gay.”

“You okay with it…I mean, you’re not having any problems at college or anything?”

“I’m…working it out. But no, there have been no problems back at college. But Wesley, you can’t tell anyone; please.”

“It’s just between us. You tell others when you’re ready.”

Connor buried his hands down in his pockets and turned away from Wesley, looking back at the house. Through the window, he could see their parents laughing about something said, and the image of them blurred as tears streamed down his cheeks, feeling a relief he had not felt in a long time.

Connor sat in his desk chair and Wesley lay on his bed, head propped up by one arm. Music played loud enough to conceal their conversation in case one of their parents came to the door.

“You think you were the only one in our class?” asked Wesley.

“There was 196 in our class and if about ten percent were gay, that would be 19, but I don’t know. It didn’t seem like there was anyone else who could be gay.”

“What about Ricky?”

“He was feminine in the way he acted but that doesn’t mean he was gay. You know he’s married and has a kid already.”

“What? No shit. I didn’t know that.”

“When I think about it, I wonder about Paul, Jesse or…”

“Chase?”

“I was going to say Austin, but I could see Chase too.”

“But this is just us speculating and we could be wrong about every one of them.”

“Was there anyone you wished were gay?” Wesley asked, his tone serious.

“Brody…definitely Brody,” Connor replied, and he looked at Wesley bursting out laughing. Brody had been the guy with model good looks, and every girl wanted him. Wesley looked up, shocked at the admission, then he saw Connor was joking and he began to laugh too.

“Asshole…I was being serious.”

“I know. Honestly, there was a time I wished you were.”

“Because I was familiar, your best friend, and it would have been so easy?”

“Yes.”

“I get it. And Connor, it’s okay. But I’m not fucking you,” said Wesley, smiling mischievously.

“Very funny,” Connor replied, then he considered Rose’s brother, Trevor.

“You remember Rose’s brother?”

“Trevor? Yes. Introverted to a fault. I felt sorry for him. Rose handled their family problems like a fighter, but Trevor just got worse. He and I were in the same elementary school.”

“I know.”

“Did you know the Marshall’s were not so poor back then, and Trevor was more outgoing? Just one of the boys.”

“No.”

“Rose and I were in the sixth grade when Mr. Marshall lost that job, and everyone found out he was drinking heavily. I remember how Rose was really hurt, crying a lot there for a while. But it was Trevor that really took it bad.”

“We rode the same bus in middle and high school and he never talked to anyone that I could see.”

“That was after they lost their house in Baxter Heights and had to move to that trailer park out on Liberty Street. Why do you ask? You think Trevor is gay?”

“I saw Rose and him at the pool today, and he is completely different. I didn’t recognize him at first.”

“Cheryl told me Mr. Marshall went through some program and stopped drinking. I think he has his own repair shop.”

“He does. I ran into Trevor last summer and he said it was in the old paint and body place out on 421.”

“You didn’t answer my question. You think Trevor is gay?”

“I have no idea but…” Connor looked up, smiling, “he sure looks better than before.”

“Pervert…trying to get into Rose’s little brother’s pants,” Wesley joked.

A knock on the door, then Wesley’s father called out, “Wesley, you ready to go. It’s getting late and you mom wants to go to church tomorrow.”

“I’m coming,” Wesley called out, then he looked at Connor, lowering his voice, “damn, we have to go to church tomorrow.”

Connor stood and moved near the door as Wesley slipped his shoe on. Wesley approached the door but stopped when in front of Connor. To Connor’s surprise he hugged him.

“I miss hanging out with you,” Wesley uttered in a low voice.

“Me too.”

“Let’s stay in touch; okay?”

“Sure.”

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Had another year really gone by? Was he now a junior, his sophomore year behind him, like the campus in his review mirror, as he headed toward the interstate to make the three-hour drive home?  Connor didn’t feel like a junior. At times he didn’t even feel like a college student, some of his old self resurfacing. But it did so less and less. The last year had been one of milestones. Wesley and he had stayed in touch, with phone calls late at night, or video chants, test messages or when it was easier to write instead of saying it, long emails that spoke to their changing lives. Wesley was dating an art major, a woman from New Orleans. It seemed serious for Wesley typed long emails about what they had done over a weekend, or the trip to New Orleans to hang out over the break between semesters.

For Connor, he had his own moments. Coming out to some of the guys on his floor, then finding Harper at his door, the guy from room 326, stammering and stuttering until he knew he was being asked out on a date. Harper was a quiet guy, from Memphis, Tennessee, who loved the musical influences of his hometown, playing the blues and early rock ‘n roll when others played more contemporary music. Harper was his first date, his first to have sex and after three weeks, his first boyfriend. They dated until early Spring Semester when the two finally admitted they liked each other, but there was something missing, some nuisance of their relationship that wasn’t right. Connor knew it was the fact the two of them went to each other for they knew no one else. But over time, as other guys came out and they went to bars in Birmingham or Atlanta, they realized their relationship was one of convenience. It wasn’t so much a breakup as a mutually agreed upon time to move on, for them to see other guys.

And all through personal aspects of his life on campus, Connor found the classes easier, his grades improving. He was finding his way, a path toward the future he had struggled to consider seriously, until it seemed within his grasp. Two more years, and he would be finished with college and ready to tackle the world, a cliché he knew but there was some truth to it, just the same.

The drive was relaxing, his old truck humming along the interstate, as he relaxed to the fact, he had a summer ahead of him, a time of no classes and their tests. Two weeks prior he had told his father to find him a part time job, something he could do a few days a week to earn some cash. A coupe days later his father called to inform him of a job with a landscaping crew.

It was late afternoon when Connor pulled around his home and parked in his spot to the side of the carport. He was still sitting in the truck when he saw his mother and father approaching, smiling broadly that he had finally made it home.

Wesley was spending a couple of weeks in New Orleans before coming home for the summer, so Connor bounced around town, walking the two blocks of downtown, strolling around the park with its large pond some dared to call a lake, and grabbing burgers at the drive-thru on South Main when his mother was working at her new job at the library and his dad was at his job as one of the town’s two optometrist. He found it humorous since none of them required their own corrective lens, all having good vision. But the job was one his father enjoyed, and the money had been good; good enough to put him through college. For a week he bounced around, for it was arranged for him not to start his part time job until the following week.

When Monday arrived, Cannon was at the warehouse early ready to start. Mr. Holland put him on a new team, one to remain in town doing the smaller properties, while he sent the two original teams out to do the larger corporate park sites, one in Evergreen and one down in Prattsville. It took less than an hour for Cannon to get used to the running the mower, and for the next three days he mowed grass. It was cathartic the way he could loose himself while circling one grass area after the next and time and time again he thought of Harper, his talks with Wesley, then eventually, he thought of Trevor, bringing to mind the image of him climbing out of the pool last summer.

Thursday afternoon they were back at the warehouse by two, having finished up the day’s scheduled work. Connor climbed out of the big F-350 and strolled across the parking lot to his own truck. He felt stiff in the shoulders and back from riding a mower for the past four days, and was ready to get home. He climbed behind the wheel and turned the key.

A clicking sound from under the hood, then nothing. The truck wouldn’t start.

“No, no, no…not now…please start,” Connor begged the truck as he turned the key again with the same result. He put his head against the steering wheel and sat there, so frustrated he couldn’t think.

“Connor, sounds like the starter,” said Ellis, and Connor looked up to see him standing at his door. Opening the door, he slid out and stood.

“I know.”

“There is a trick that might get it to work but you’ll need to get home or to a shop for it will may not crank again.”

“What’s that?”

“Just a minute,” Ellis replied.

Connor watched Ellis walk to his SUV, an old 4Runner. After rummaging around in the back, Ellis headed back with a hammer in one hand.

“What are you going to do with that?” asked Connor.

“Tap it a few times. Sometimes it loosens or frees up the brushes getting it to work,” Ellis replied.

Connor watched him slide under his truck then the sound of the hammer tapping on metal. Ellis slid out and climbed to his feet.

“Try it now.”

Connor got behind the wheel and turned the key. There was a brief hesitation but then the starter turned the motor over, and it fired up. Connor smiled at Ellis, nodding his head, relieved he didn’t have to call a tow truck.

“Marshall Auto is out on 421. You could drive there and see if they can fix it,” said Ellis.

That’s where Trevor works, Connor remembered.

“Thanks, I’ll head there now,” Connor replied.

Connor pulled into the lot and parked next to an Oldsmobile and Mercury, two makes no longer in existence, and went to the door marked Office. Rose was behind the counter and she came around and hugged him.

“Hey, stranger, how are you?” Rose asked as she rocked them back and forth.

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Good…good.”

“So, this is your dad’s place.”

“Yep. So, what brings you here?”

“The starter on my old truck is messing up. Can someone look at it?”

“Not this afternoon, the guys are slammed back there,” Rose replied.

The door from the shop opened and Connor froze, not even breathing. Trevor came in wiping greasy hands. He wore ugly gray overalls, unzipped halfway down the chest. He was dirty, with a grimy cap pulled low and Connor never saw someone so attractive. Trevor moved toward him making him painfully aware of their height differences. He was five ten and had to look up at Trevor, who had to be six four or so.

“Hey Connor,” said Trevor, “what’s wrong with your truck?”

“It’s the starter. I told him you guys were slammed and it would be tomorrow before you could get to it,” said Rose.

“The starter? That wouldn’t take long to repair. Do we have one that fits his truck?”

“I can check,” Rose replied, moving back around the counter.

“Do you think…can you…you…” Connor was stammering, fighting the urge to let his eyes roam up and down the tall body before him. “I’ve got this job…need to get to work…”

“I thought you were at college?” Rose asked from behind the counter as she scanned a monitor.

“Yes…but I’m working this part time job for the summer,” Connor replied, finding his voice when he addressed Rose. He turned back to Trevor and saw a smile that unnerved him, made him aware how he must look.

Trevor took a step closer, just enough to make Connor blush, feeling the heat of it in his face.

“If you can wait around till the end of the day, I can change it out after work if we can get the part,” said Trevor.

“Rrreally?”

“If you will help me,” Trevor added and Connor swallowed hard, wondering if Trevor was teasing him.

“We don’t have it; do you want me to call around?” asked Rose.

“Yes, call Dwayne at Eastside,” Trevor replied, referring to Eastside Auto Parts, the oldest in town and the only individually owned one in town, the other three being corporate chains. “I’ve got to get back to the shop; let me know if there is a problem.” Looking back at Connor, Trevor seemed to stand taller, chest pushed out more, right in Connor’s face, “You didn’t say if you could hang around till after work.”

“Yyyessss,” Connor stammered, keeping his voice low, so Rose wouldn’t hear how Trevor was affecting him.

Trevor went back to the shop, as Rose came around the counter. She held out a small square of paper with a part number written on it.

“Connor, can you go get it? I’ll let you take the company truck. I’ve got a lot of invoices to finish up and it’ll help me out.”

“Sure Rose, I can do it,” Connor replied, glad for the opportunity to get away for a few minutes so he could think straight.

“I’m leaving now,” Jackson Marshall exclaimed across the shop.

“Okay,” Trevor replied.

“Make sure the doors are locked. That back one…”

“Doesn’t latch right; I know dad,” Trevor replied.

Connor saw Mr. Marshall smile, give them a final wave then slip out, leaving Trevor and him alone.

“Fuck, it’s hot in here,” said Trevor as he pulled the zipper down until the blue waistband of boxers was visible. “Where did you put the new starter?”

“Over…over there,” Connor stammered, pointing at the rolling cart near the work bench.

Connor’s old Ford truck was in the shop, up on the hoist, and Trevor moved underneath it and began to remove the old starter.

“How’s college?” asked Trevor as he worked a ratchet wrench back and forth.

“Good, just finished my sophomore year.”

“What are you majoring in?”

“Electrical engineering.”

“Really?”

“Is that so surprising,” Connor replied, and he found himself relaxing in Trevor’s presence.

“I assumed you might go into a medical field, like your father.”

“No…I like tinkering with things, figuring out they work and electrical engineering seems a good field for me,” said Connor. He looked at Trevor and wondered what he was going to do. Work in his dad’s shop or pursue another career path. “What about you?”

“Me? I’m going to study sustainable energy systems.”

“Sustainable systems? Where do you go for that curriculum?”

“I’m going to North Carolina.”

“Really? How did you pull that off?”

“Scholarships.”

“You must have had good grades.”

Trevor turned and smiled at Connor, “I had a lot of time to study.”

“I know what you are referring to, and…it was wrong to treat you like that.”

“Well, part of it was me. I just didn’t want to be around anyone. With dad having his problems, it was…” Trevor let his voice trail off.

“But everything worked out. Your dad seems great now.”

“He is but he admits there are times his addiction sneaks up on him. He said he craves a drink all the time.”

“Must be tough.”

“Yeah,” Trevor replied, pulling out the old starter.

The old starter was rusted and appeared to be the original. Connor was curious to see it up close and he moved to the rolling cart where Trevor laid it by the new one.

“Boy, it looks rough,” said Connor.

“I’m surprised it lasted you this long,” said Trevor, flipping the starter over to look at the other side of it.

Connor looked at the long fingers holding it, how they easily held the cylinder, and he wondered what it would be like to feel them touching him, to feel them rake across his skin the way one finger was raking over the rusted surface. Slowly, struggling to control his breathing, he looked up the arm, upward along the exposed chest to the face that was looking back at him. He locked eyes with Trevor, unable to look away. The vivid blue reminded him of the sky, of clear waters, of something precious and rare.

“Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like me?”

“Yes.”

Connor said it without forethought. Just uttered the word, without consideration of what he was confessing. He let his heart rule over his head. And it scared him. He froze at the realization he had said it aloud. Trevor now knew he liked him. He took a step back, with an innate urge to flee welling up, for he felt fear; fear he had gone too far. Trevor didn’t confess to liking him, just asked if he did. And he had said ‘yes’.

“I mean…I…” Connor stammered as he took another step back while Trevor turned toward him.

“Connor,” Trevor whispered, and it was spoken so casually, so softly, Connor stopped and looked up at those vivid blue eyes.

“Yes.”

“I like you too. I always thought you were attractive, even back on that damn bus. I just never considered a possibly where you would like me back.”

Connor watched Trevor close the distance between them, just a short step, and the tall lean body towered over him. He looked up while feeling hands hold his upper arms. Trevor leaned to him and he closed his eyes just before lips touched his own.

The kiss didn’t last long enough, and Connor opened his eyes to see Trevor pulled back, looking down at him with a grin.

“Why don’t we get that starter on your truck first,” Trevor uttered, and Connor nodded his head in agreement.

Connor stood under the truck, handing tools to Trevor as the new starter was put in place, nuts hand tightened, then tightened further with the rachet wrench. The truck was lowered, and he watched Trevor climb behind the wheel and start it up. The starter spun a couple of times and the motor revved to life.

“You’re good as new,” Trevor exclaimed over the revving engine.

“Thanks, Trevor.”

Connor helped put away tools, cleaned up around the bay, tossing the box and packaging the starter came in. He went to the passenger door to slip the paperwork into the folder kept in the glovebox when a shadow fell over him, then hands touched his back.

“You’re not in a hurry, are you?” Trevor whispered.

“No,” Connor replied, froze in place, letting the hands move up his back, around his chest and to the buttons where the long fingers worked each one free. The shirt fell open, and hands touched bare flesh as lips touched the back of his neck. He shivered from the manipulation and felt a sense of arousal. He wanted to push back until against Trevor but the hands moving over bare skin consumed his thoughts and held him in place savoring the touch.

Then the shirt was pulled from his shoulders where lips touched the exposed skin, moving along one side, then the other. The hands circled the chest again, this time moving downward, over his stomach, then fumbling with the front of his jeans. He closed his eyes and leaned back until against Trevor as his jeans loosened around his waist, then fingers dug into the front of his boxers until one, then two were through the fly touching his expanding cock.

It was like a dream, this state of feeling, but not really seeing. He had been facing the interior of his truck, with Trevor toying with his cock. Jeans and boxers had slid down his legs and he felt his nakedness, this exposure, and it aroused him even more. His cock grew thicker, longer, until rock hard and sticking straight out. Then he was completely naked, all his garments tossed to the side, and laying on the seat of the truck. His legs rested on Trevor’s shoulders and cock touched him, raked up and down his ass until he was moaning. He reached around and held Trevor, fingers around the thick cock, not touching, as he guided it to his opening.

Connor wanted Trevor. The kisses, the feel of fingers gliding over bare flesh, or digging into it to hold him, and the feel of a cock touching his opening, wanting to bore into his depths. He pushed against it, arched his back, and cried out, then begged Trevor to fuck him.

“Do it, Trevor, put it in me,” Connor pleaded.

Connor felt the cock move through his fingers and stretch him open. He felt the flared head penetrate him, then the thick shaft. Inch after inch slid through his fingers and into his hole. It sank into his depths giving him a sense of connection to Trevor no kiss of lips could match. He shuddered at the fullness of it, then pushed against the driver’s door as Trevor began to move inside him, to tug outward then push back in, until in a steady rhythm: a fuck.

Eyes closed, Connor lay across the seat and took every thrust. Cock piston in his hole faster and faster until Trevor was smacking bodily against his ass. He took his own cock in hand and soon stroked in rhythm with their fuck. Faster and faster, pushing his arousal to the breaking point.

“Connor,” Trevor uttered.

Connor heard his name, how it sounded pained, the voice struggling to utter the word. He felt fingers dig into his thighs holding them tight to the bare chest. The contact was hot, and the undulating movement spoke of their fuck. He stroked his cock until his hand moved slickly up and down his shaft. Then he cried out as cum sprayed his face, neck, and chest. He shuddered with his ejaculation and fingers dug into his thighs even more, desperate to hold his squirming body in place as cock bore into his depths.

Hand slick with cum, Connor slowed his stroke, moved his hand up and down his spent cock as Trevor jammed cock into his depths and shuddered against his thighs.

Then they were spent, heaving for breath.

They cleaned up in the toilet, rinsing off cum and sweat and the grime from the repair. They walked naked back through the shop, giggling and laughing and back at Connor’s truck, they picked up their scattered clothes and dressed.

“Tomorrow is Friday. Would you like to go out? Dinner or something?” Trevor asked, suddenly sounding shy.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Connor replied. He had found his voice, and now spoke with confidence, unafraid to express himself to Trevor.

“I can pick you up around seven and we can drive up to Montgomery. Go to that place in downtown?”

“Okay,” Connor replied.

Trevor raised the overhead door and let Connor ease out of the bay. He waved goodbye again and lowered the door as Connor pulled out on the highway. He closed up the shop, locked all the doors, checking the tricky one in back twice, then headed out back where his car was parked. He smiled every time he approached the silver car with its black stripes over the hood and trunk. He had found it stashed in a barn in Cullman County, where a man had left it after his grandfather could no longer drive it. As soon as he saw the badge on the front fender and the bumperettes that didn’t extend in front of the grille, he knew he had to have it. The grandson thought it was a 73 model, but Trevor knew he was wrong: it was a 71. A 1971 Chevy Camaro Z-28. It had needed work; the transmission and engine had to be broken down and rebuilt and the interior renovated with new upholstery. New paint, shocks, radiator, brakes, wiring, and so many other parts, Trevor knew it would be like new when finally finished. His dad had balked at the price, until he realized it was a percentage of its value, even in the state it was in, so Trevor was able to buy it, hauling it back to the shop. He had worked on it for months in the evenings and on weekends. At times his dad and Jason staying over to help. He knew his dad gave in and let him have the car as a way of saying he was sorry for the past, but for Trevor that was in the past. The car represented something else to him. It was a bold expression, something he would never had done before, but now he wanted to be seen. For others to notice. To be someone who was part of society, not just on its fringes.

Connor was so anxious, pacing around the family room, at times making a loop through the kitchen where his mother was preparing dinner. It had never been like this in college. The decision on what to wear (jeans and white dress shirt), which cologne to wear (Jean Paul Gaultier), and which shoes (Chrome Workboot). It was five till seven and he was watching every second tick back.

“Connor, for heaven’s sake, stop pacing. What is the matter with you?” asked Jean, his mother.

“Nothing.”

“You act like…”

Jean let her voice trail off, afraid to say it, to mention Connor’s night out with a male friend could be a date.

“What?”

“Nothing; just sit down and stop pacing.”

“Okay,” Connor replied going to the sofa. He was about to sit down when the sound of a car came around to the back of their house. It was throaty, obviously a sports car.

“Gotta go,” Connor exclaimed, rushing out the door.

On the rear porch, he froze. Sitting before him was an old Camaro, the silver paint shiny in the late afternoon sun. His father was coming up from the garage, walking around the front to the driver’s side. Trevor stepped out and for a moment all he saw was the tall boy with the blonde hair. A blue shirt and white jeans that accentuated the long legs. Then he heard his father and he rushed down the steps.

“What year is it?” asked Grady

“71,” Trevor replied.

“It’s nice. Must have set you back a pretty penny. I saw these old cars are getting expensive.”

“It needed a lot of work and the grandson of the original owner wanted it out of his barn, so I got it cheaper than I should have.”

“It needed a lot…”

“Hey!” Connor interrupted, causing the two of them to turn toward him.

“Hey,” Trevor replied.

“Dad, we’re going to go. We’re driving up to Montgomery.”

“Oh, okay. Be careful, and you boys have fun,” Grady replied, stepping back.

Connor climbed in the passenger seat and Trevor got back behind the wheel. Grady watched them back out of the drive before going inside. He hadn’t noticed how his son had dressed up or was acting nervous. But when he got inside, Jean would mention it, hint around the thought that had been troubling her for the last few minutes.

At some point in the night, they called home to let their parents know they were staying overnight in Montgomery. They had dinner in a small restaurant in downtown, nervously talking about college and the future they envisioned for themselves. Trevor surprised Connor, how animated he became using his hands more, sitting up, leaning forward at times while lowering his voice for emphasis. Connor wanted to become an electrical engineer, seeing it as something that interested him and could be a good career choice. But with Trevor, there was so much more to his decision to study sustainable systems. A desire to change things, to make the world better. There was an excitement to Trevor’s voice that sent shivers down Connor’s spine and made him wonder if he was not reaching high enough. After dinner, they strolled the street, going toward the domed capitol building centered on it to their east. They circled back at an old church, then cut over a couple of blocks to the hotel he had gotten room when Trevor dared suggest it.

The door to their room had barely closed when Trevor spun Connor around and kissed him. They stumbled and staggered back to the bed, where Connor pulled Trevor down on top of him. Hands roamed over bodies; lips touched bare flesh and the other’s lips. Buttons were undone, zippers tugged down, and soon garments lay scattered across the floor.

They were naked, moving against the other. Bare flesh against bare flesh. Fingers raked over smooth skin, manipulated nipples, traced the shape of a jaw or followed a line of muscle and eventually, toyed with growing cocks, tugged on tightening sacs and fingered loose tight openings.

“Fuck me,” Connor uttered when he couldn’t hold back any longer. Trevor moved between his thighs and took each leg behind the knee. He felt the long fingers holding them, firmly, in charge, and he lay back letting Trevor move over him, folding him half. Thighs pressed against his chest as cock touched his opening. It teased him, toyed with his desires and he tried to push against it, desperate for the penetration.

Trevor pushed again and Connor clutched at the bed and moaned as he stretched open to take him. He felt every inch drill into his hole. It filled him, bored into the center of his being. Then he felt the tug outward, slowly, gently, then a push back in. Only a couple of inches at first, but Trevor kept working more and more of his thick cock through Connor’s tightness until they were fucking. The bed rocked beneath them, and their breathing became labored. Skin heated up, then became slick with sweat as they undulated against each other. Trevor’s long body undulated like a serpent; evil in its ways, preying on Connor’s desires, lusts, this need for a man to penetrate him. He clung to the body and whispered urgent pleadings for Trevor to fuck him harder.

And Trevor did.

The bed rocked roughly and the sound of bodies smacking together echoed in the room. Despite the air conditioning, they sweated profusely. Connor licked Trevor’s neck and tasted the saltiness of it. Then he nipped the earlobe, tugging on it and felt Trevor shove into his depths with renewed enthusiasm.

Suddenly Trevor was on his knees, and Connor felt the emptiness inside as he looked at Trevor’s thick wet cock flexing up and down.

“Roll over…get on your hands and knees,” Trevor pleaded.

Connor rolled over and felt hands hold his waist as cock touched his loosened hole, then bore into him again. It sank all they way until Trevor was pressed against his ass. The hands slid up his back to his shoulders and pulled him up on his knees. Trevor hugged their bodies together, and piston cock inside his depths. A hand slid down his chest while the arm of the other wrapped around his neck. Held tight, bent back, cock pummeled his hole as he felt his own cock in the grasp of the hand. It stroked him, moving along his shaft and over the wet head. It wasn’t long and his whole cock was wet and slick, and he shuddered with the manipulation.

“Take me, Connor,” Trevor uttered.

Connor felt the change in Trevor’s pace, the roughness of it, hips smacking against his ass rocking him forward. It was too much. The feel of cock inside him, and the way it piston through his tight opening. And the feel of Trevor against his back and the hand that stroked him. The room was hot, his breathing labored, and the smell of their sweating bodies was an intoxicate. As Trevor slammed into his depths, he felt the surge of release. His own cock swelled thicker; the head flared wider. He shuddered, then came, spraying the bed with his cum.

Trevor pushed into his depths and he felt the shuddering body against his back and knew Trevor was coming too.

They lay on the bed until their breathing had returned to normal, then Connor slipped off of it, holding a hand out to Trevor.

“Come on, shower with me.”

Trevor smiled, pushed the blonde hair out of his eyes and took Connor’s hand. He let Connor lead him to the bathroom, watching Connor turn on the shower. It steamed up the small room as they stepped in, giggling and messing with each other. Connor smacked Trevor’s ass and got a tug on his cock in return, making them laugh and cry out ‘Stop!’.

Under the spray of warm water, hands soaped up, they settled down to bathing each other. They slid soapy hands over the other and kissed. They toyed with nipples until they stood out erect and kissed. They pulled their bodies together feeling their arousal return and kissed. They toyed with the other’s cock, fingered the head, tugged on the sac, and stroked the soap slick shaft, and kissed. They kept it up until cocks angled out hard as rock and both wanted more…much more.

Connor went to his knees, the water hitting his head and cascading over his body, as he took Trevor in hand, letting the thick cock fill it. He moved to it, licked the head, kissed it, then took as much as he could. He moved on it until Trevor was moaning and holding onto his shoulders. He felt fingers dig into each one and he pushed forward able to take another inch. He kept up a steady pace, pushing forward, then pulling back. He licked the head, dragged his tongue down the shaft and back up, then licked the head again before sinking it back into his mouth.

The hands moved, fingers likely caressing his skin as they trailed along each shoulder, up his neck and combed through his hair. They held his head as hips began to work cock into his mouth. He let Trevor control him, hold him in place as cock piston through his lips. Trevor’s pace increased, then grew ragged, out of rhythm and he felt the cock head swell up, fill his mouth even more, then he was struggling to take the flood of cum. Wad after wad ejaculated into his mouth until some trickled down his chin. He swallowed, swallowed again, and yet the wads kept spewing into his mouth, until finally they weren’t. Trevor fell back and Connor moved to keep the cock in his mouth as he swallowed, over and over, until it was gone.

Connor stood up and kissed Trevor, wondering if he could taste it, his own cum. He stroked his cock as he kissed him, so aroused he didn’t think he could last long. Then his hand was knocked away and Trevor was pushing him toward a side wall. He faced it, braced himself against it as he felt Trevor push into his depths, then take him in hand. It was a slow fuck, enabling him to feel every inch that worked through his opening. Trevor fucked for a long time, bore into his depths over and over, while slowly stroking his cock. It was torturous, pushing him to the edge but never letting him cum. He had been so close a few times, but each time Trevor pulled back, making him wait.

Then he couldn’t wait any longer, too on edge, too aroused and he came, hard, shuddering and jerking with every ejaculation as he painted the tile wall with his cum. It caused Trevor to moan, to shove into him all the way and he knew Trevor was coming too, filling him with another load.

Afterward everything was a blur. Connor was exhausted, spent like never before. He remembered Trevor toweling him off, leading him to bed, then snuggling against him. The next thing he remembered was sunlight pouring into the room, for they had left the curtain open.

Connor rolled over and looked at Trevor, who was still sound asleep. He reached over and touched the flat stomach, marveling at the firm muscular feel of it. He couldn’t believe this was the same boy he remembered on the bus. That skinny, introverted boy who sat alone, avoiding others. He ran his hand down, raking his fingers through the dark blonde pubic hair then encircling the thick cock. It was partial erect, thick in his grasp. He slowly stroked it, feeling it harden and thicken even more. It filled his hand. Sitting up, he saw Trevor begin to stir. He straddled the narrow waist and as Trevor opened his eyes, he moved his ass over the hard cock.

“What are you doing?” Trevor asked in a jovial tone.

“Waking you up,” Connor replied as he moved his ass back and forth. He felt the thick cock slide along it, and it aroused him.

“I’m awake,” Trevor replied.

Connor saw those vivid blue eyes watching him, and his desires increased. He rose up and took the cock in hand, holding it up. He eased down until he felt the blunt head touch him, then he rocked his hips back and forth enough to rub his opening over it. Too aroused to hold back, he let his weight carry him down. The flared head penetrated him, stretched his hole open, and he shuddered with the initial pain and pleasure of it. It was such an odd combination, to feel both at the same time. He kept moving down, letting inch after inch bore into his hole until he was seated on Trevor’s hips.

“Fuck…you horny bastard,” Trevor uttered as he grabbed each thigh, digging his fingers into the flexing muscle.

Connor moved up and down, worked his ass on Trevor, savoring the feel of the thick cock in his hole. He did a slow pace at first, adjusting to the stretching, the penetration, allowing him to sense every inch sinking into his body. It increased his aroused state, made him lust for more. Playfully, with mischief, he leaned over and took Trevor by the wrist and held him down as he moved faster. Worked his ass up and down with an urgency.

“Fuck…take it,” Trevor uttered as he pushed upward.

Connor’s pace grew rough, bouncing on Trevor’s hips. The bed rocked. His cock smacked Trevor’s stomach until it left wet smears. And he kept it up until Trevor couldn’t take it. Like a wild animal, Trevor rose up, threw Connor on the bed face down, and moved on top. The penetration was quick, deep, and Trevor began to fuck. To fuck hard, fast, hips smacking against ass. Connor cried out.

“Fuck me…please…”

The pace was brutal, and Trevor seemed superhuman, a stamina that didn’t quit. Sweat rained down on Connor’s back as cock pummeled his hole. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh echoed in the room, until drowned out by Trevor’s guttural cry.

Slamming cock all they way in Connor, Trevor came.

Breathing hard and skin glistening wet, Trevor rolled Connor over and moved down between his legs. He took the wet, leaking cock and sucked it into his mouth. It only took a few seconds of manipulation and Connor was shuddering with release, filling his mouth.

It was midafternoon when Connor eased into his home where he found his mom stirring about in the kitchen.

“Hey, I’m home.”

Jean looked around at him and appeared to frown. He froze, wondering why she was upset, and if it was about Trevor and him.

“What is it?”

Jean stepped away from the sink and moved to the end of the island, hand braced on its edge. She didn’t turn when she spoke, her voice low, soft, with a slight tremoring.

“Connor…all we have ever wanted for you was to be happy and have a good life. And…well there are…were expectations I know might seem like a conceit on my part. But I’m not stupid, and I know there is something between you and that boy. I’d like to talk about it, but…not now,” said Jean. She moved toward the hall. “I’m going to get the laundry finished. Your dad and I are thinking about going to the fish camp, so be ready to leave around five thirty.”

“Okay,” Connor replied and watched her leave the room, stunned at the admission.

For the rest of the summer, it was an emotional rollercoaster for Connor. Trevor was more than he could ever hope in someone, and he struggled to contain how he felt. They circled around words like ‘love’ and ‘boyfriend’, knowing come summer’s end, they would each go their own way. But he kept hoping for some signal Trevor was willing to try a long distant relationship. There were moments, the two of them in some private place, naked, exhausted from sex, that they talked so close to the topic Connor held out hope.

At home, his parents pretended there was nothing going on, going about their daily tasks and avoiding any conversation about Trevor, despite the amount of time he spent with him. July slipped into August and the day approached when it would be time to leave. Trevor made casual comments referencing preparations for his freshman year, but never more than that.

It was the second weekend of August, one that had thunderstorms all morning and an afternoon of drizzling rain and much needed relief from the heat. Connor and his dad were on the porch having a glass of tea when Jean came out and sat between them. For a few minutes they just watched it rain.

“Connor?” Jean asked.

“Yes, mom?”

“You want to tell us about this boy?”

“His name is Trevor and…” Connor began defensively.

“Connor…calm down. Just tell us about him. I didn't mean anything by not using his name,” Jean replied.

Connor saw the relaxed expression, and the casualness of her tone.

“Sorry. Well, he is Jackson Marshall’s youngest son and has been working with him at the shop all summer. He’s going to North Carolina to study sustainable systems, and…” Connor hesitated, realizing what he was about to admit.

“Go on,” Jean prodded.

“And I don’t want us to break up,” said Connor, realizing the extent of his feelings for Trevor.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Grady asked.

“Huh?” Connor asked, surprised at the question.

“If you like this boy so much, and don’t want to break up with him, what are you going to do about it?” said Grady. He leaned back, rested his head on the wall, and stared across the backyard. “I chased your mom for weeks before she would even go out with me. I guess it’s different now. But even then, she just kept her distance,” he added, chuckling softly. “It took some persistence on my part, let me tell you.”

“So, what caused her to accept you?”

“I told you: persistence, that and showing I was sincere.”

“But we’re going to be separated.”

“Physically, yes, but there is more to it than that,” said Jean.

“But I’m not sure…I don’t know…”

“Talk with Trevor. You’ll not rest until you do.”

“Does this mean we’re okay?” Connor asked, looking from his mom to his dad.

“I just wish you could have talked to us sooner,” Grady replied, getting to his feet, “how about we go into town for dinner later?”

“Oh, that is a good idea. How about that new diner Cheryl Mayfield opened up?”

“Sounds like a plan. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get cleaned up,’ Grady replied before easing into the house.

“Mom, I need to go do something first, but I’ll be back by five.”

“Are you going to talk to Trevor?”

“Yes.”

“You can invite him to join us, if you want.”

“Okay,” Connor replied, smiling back at her as he moved to the steps.

Jean took a deep breath, holding it in, not wanting Connor to see how there was a moment she saw her little boy, all mischievous, getting into something and smiling innocently about it. She saw him as her child that she was to protect and teach, but as he raced across the yard to his old truck she saw the man he had become, the one who would soon pursue his own life, wherever it took him. She sat still, almost afraid to move as Connor backed down the drive on his way to confess to Trevor.

Nine Years Later

It was the middle of May and the crews were working tirelessly in the sweltering heat. The temperature the day before reached 108 degrees. It was noon, everyone taking a lunch break, and the temperature was already at 106 degrees. Set up east of Timbuktu, they were building a solar array. For hundreds of meters in both directions, the panels were set in place, with more to be installed. Once operational, the panels would provide power to Bourem and Dire, and all the towns and villages in between. It was the crews fifth installation. There were three more sites ready, waiting for their arrival to start, and there was another crew operating in the countries of southern Africa. There was also a crew in Malaysia and two in South America and two back in the states.

They heard it before they saw it, the helicopter flying in low from the west. It was coming up from the airport between Timbuktu and Kabara. They recognized it as soon as it drew close, for it was one of theirs, bright blue and white, with the stylized sun logo on the side. It circled to their south and landed at the designated area created when they first arrived. The engine shut down and the blades slowed. The door slid open and three men stepped out. One was older, a full head of white hair. He carried a small satchel and a was talking animatedly with his free hand to the two other men. They were younger, each carrying a laptop and rolls of drawings. The crew knew them, for they were the leaders of their design team, the men who checked the construction, instructed them on changes or updates to equipment. It still surprised them for the two other men had seemed too young, but the tall one always surprised them with his knowledge of the equipment, and how to overcome any issues during the installation. Robert, the team manager was technically their boss, but it was Trevor Marshall they listened to more often, than not. The other young man was the engineer, the one who did the technical calculations and determined the capacity of the installation, giving Trevor the data needed to make final decisions.

And there was something else about the two young men, something they did nothing to hide. How they responded to each other, or little gestures far too intimate, and there was the way Connor, the engineer, looked at Trevor.  And how they always shared a tent, even when there was another available.

I hope you liked this story. Below are teasers of two in progress.

Chapter Two of The Differing: The Return of Magic:

She floated down into the dark waters, eyes open watching the light fade as she descended deeper and deeper. She knew the waters were cold, too cold for the human body, but she didn’t feel it. Not even the water in her lungs that caused them to cease functioning. Her body was quiet, most of its mortal functions stopped. There wasn’t even a pulse for the heart had stopped too, almost as if she willed it. But her consciousness continued, aware of her sinking down.

She settled on the bottom, the soft mud cushioning to her frail body. She saw the emptiness of the water, nothing stirring around her as she lay in the dark depths. This was the end, or so she assumed as she waited for her consciousness to fade away, the final act in ceasing to exist. She saw the prophecies again, then the events that were to unfold, fragmented images of two young men. Men who would be leaders, advisors, and lovers. She saw them betrayed by one of the newer religions, all of them based on so much myth and legend she didn’t understand it. She knew the fallacy of those religions, even the one she had practiced for years until she became aware of the true source of her power. This understanding that allowed her to see.

But it was the end of such times, and she saw a darkness settle over the land, fueled by superstition and a seeking of control that would lead to abuses. How long, she wondered, would people stumble through the darkness before they opened their eyes? It was too far for her to see, especially now, with her fading away.

A light, one not real, not in a physical sense, but one she saw, nonetheless. It hovered in her vision and she saw. She had been wrong. There was to be another time. She reached up with her right hand, pointing toward the light. The water felt charged, an energy she had never felt before. Then a flash of light, like lightning streaking through the water. Her finger glowed in the darkness but felt no pain. Instead it pointed to the way.

She rested her right hand on her chest, clasping her fingers together, and smiled at this new knowledge. It was knowledge that belonged only to her, and within a few seconds, as her consciousness faded away, it belonged to no one of this darkest of times.

A new story, Lick It Up:

Peyton had heard him, the command uttered with authority. He looked up and saw the smug look, one that knew it had full control of the situation. Of course, Braxton had control. He always had control. The captain of the swim team, honor student, “Mr. Popular”, Peyton’s dormmate, and something else he was afraid to give name to.

Peyton let his eyes scan down the familiar body, one exposed to him so often he knew every curve, how every muscle was revealed under the smooth skin and the tattoos on the back and on one calf. He looked at the muscular chest, the flat stomach, and the now flaccid cock still glistening wet from his spit, as he tasted Braxton’s cum in his mouth. Looking down at the floor between Braxton’s legs he saw the puddles of cum. It was his, sprayed over the floor as Braxton’s flooded his mouth. He couldn’t believe how hard he came, but he remembered how his orgasm rocked him as Braxton’s cum filled his mouth. He had shuddered with every ejaculation, while struggling to keep Braxton’s spurting cock in his mouth.

“I said lick it up,” Braxton uttered bringing Peyton’s eyes back up.

“What?” Peyton foolishly replied. He knew what Braxton wanted.

“Lick. It. Up.”

Peyton didn’t understand it. This hold Braxton had over him. He wanted to defy him, just this once, but he bent over getting on hands and knees. He looked at the puddles, then bent to the first one dragging his tongue through it. He tasted his own cum and felt grit from the floor. Then he licked up the next puddle, and the next, not stopping until he had cleaned up every one.