Affection

The old barn was hot, dusty, spiderwebs in every corner. Sitting in the middle bay was an old Ford tractor that had not been cranked in a decade or longer. In the stalls along the left wall, once used for young calves, old furniture, tractor parts and toys were stacked up, all covered with layers of dust. Steps led up to a hayloft, not used since the seventies, when the farm still had a few head of cattle. It was empty, not even used for storage since no one wanted to negotiate the steep steps. But it wasn’t empty on this day, not at this moment.

Tyler was up there, easing across the wood plank floor, feeling his heart race with the creak of each board. He moved through the dark loft, dust visible in the beams of light coming through holes in the walls and old loft doors at one end. The places where knots had long sense worked loose, or old hardware rusted free, leaving behind the opening in the door that held it. Tyler was sweating in the trapped heat of the loft, because the old tin roof radiated more heat inward, than it reflected, each panel’s surface mostly rust, and absorbing the heat of the sun. It was made worse by the ninety-five-degree temperatures outside.

Finally, at the old loft doors, he stooped down to look through one of the larger holes, one that afforded him a view down below. The angle was wrong and all he could see was the dark hair, plastered to the head by the small shower attached to the rear wall. He tried to make the hole work, angling his head one way then another. He was desperate to see below. He had to. It was too important. He had laid in bed for the last three nights imagining it. He fantasized about it. Late at night, alone in his room, boxers pushed down, he imagined more.

Easing down on his stomach, feeling the worn smooth planks hard against his chest, he pushed at the doors, slowly, gently, until they gapped at the sill. He scooted closer, pressed his head to the door to be able to see straight down. Below, under the cold shower, stood Clay, shed of all his clothes: every last stitch. They lay over the fence that intersected the barn at the corner, laid out to dry in the sun. Tyler looked at the body, with water cascading down it. He studied the muscular nature of it, one made of hard labor instead of some gym. He saw the scar on one shoulder, the thick black hair matted down over the head, and the soap suds sliding down the torso and large cock hanging loose over its sac. Clay had a natural tan skin tone, and Tyler finally was able to see it, a dark-skinned cock, with a flared head. He imagined being down there with him, sharing the cold shower. He imagined bathing Clay’s back, then Clay doing his, hands roaming over his back, down over his ass, then fingers probing between his cheeks, touching him there.

Pumping hips up and down, small movements, just enough to press his hardening cock into the floor, Tyler watched Clay wash his cock, then run his hands over it more than necessary. He saw it thicken, grow longer, more cock than would fit in Clay’s hand. Clay glanced around to make sure he was alone, unaware of the eyes from above watching his every move, then he began to masturbate. He used both hands, pumping his soap slick cock through them, growing more aroused with every second. He threw his head back, angled out his hips, pushing cock through his fist. And Tyler watched from above, eyes roaming over the straining torso, every muscle clearly defined beneath the skin. He watched how the slightly curved cock, thick as his wrist, pushed through Clay’s fist. The head protruding out a couple of inches with every forward thrust. He watched until Clay gave out a stifled cry, and shuddered, then sprayed thick wads of cum across the ground. He considered it a waste, the loss of something precious, for he would have done anything for Clay to take his load. 

Easing up, he saw the wet spot in the crotch of his jeans, spreading out wider before his eyes. His cock still flexing with his release, unable to hold back when he saw Clay’s cock spurting cum everywhere. He felt some relief, but still couldn’t shake the frustration. He had thought Clay was someone he had pushed out of his mind, long forgotten three years ago when he left for college. A teenager that grew into a man before his eyes, his older brother’s best friend, and therefore the inspiration for all of his fantasies as a teenager, resolved to the fact he was gay. He had not come out to his family, with the usual fears and anxieties, and being away for college made it too easy to avoid.

Tyler was swinging slowly back and forth, one leg on the seat and the other pushing him off, when Clay pulled around the barn heading home for the day. He watched the old Dodge truck, with its faded white paint and caved in rear fender, come down the gravel drive, a hand waved his way as it motored past. Then it disappeared around his house. He stared at the point the truck disappeared, lost in his fantasy about Clay.

When he had been thirteen, he had been the little brother Brent didn’t want to play with any longer, and thus he had been excluded from hanging out with Clay and him, and the others who showed up to play video games, toss a football, or take off on bicycles. They had been fifteen, men in their eyes and a thirteen-year old was just a kid. But to Tyler, he had been more than a simple kid. He had been a boy awakening to his sexual desires. He didn’t fully understand why, but he watched Clay, the boy with the short black hair and brown eyes, who followed his brother’s lead without question.

At fourteen he knew. He knew he was sexually attracted to Clay. Imagined situations where they would be together, lying in bed, sitting on the bank of the pond, or riding around together in his Jeep. He struggled with the details of it, but he knew the feelings. The desires and wants, this longing for someone like himself. But he was more frustrated than at thirteen, for Brent and Clay had their driver’s licenses, and stayed gone for too often. It left Tyler alone, both emotionally and physically. He had friends in school, but none were close. He rarely had any of them over to hang out. And as he got older, it seemed to get harder.

Fifteen was worse.

Tyler turned sixteen and got his driver’s license and manipulated his father in a moment of weakness in letting him buy Roger Holland’s old Jeep. It was a 1999 Wrangler, bright yellow, with a lift kit and 35” tires. Brent had been allowed to buy a five-year old Ford truck, and the Jeep was older still, but it’s inline six ran smooth and it needed only minimum work for Roger had rarely used it. It had been a second vehicle that Roger’s wife hated to ride in. It gave Tyler a renewed popularity at school, taking classmates for rides, down old logging roads, or washed out roads that led to rivers and creeks. He had suppressed his longings, his attraction to them, and became just another guy in their class.

But graduation from tenth grade was bittersweet, for it meant Clay graduated from high school and would probably leave. That summer, Brent began to lay plans with their father to expand the farm, acquiring the old Meadows’s place on Cypress Pond Lane, and Clay left, joining the Navy.

Tyler remembered seeing Clay come by before shipping out, hair cut close to the scalp and the uniform tight on his muscular body. He felt short of breath as Clay said goodbye and climbed into the old Mustang that belonged to his older brother.

The next two years passed so slowly; it was torture. Tyler put up a good façade, jovial, laughing at his friend’s jokes and contributing his own, but inside he felt hollow. A shell of a person. He saw his friends go out on dates, joke about having sex, and it frustrated him, developing into insomnia, lying awake till the early morning hours. He searched online for other guys, but never dared contact any of them.

There were missed opportunities, chances he didn’t recognize at first. When he was seventeen, riding around Murphy, the nearest town with a drive-in burger joint and a small park where they could hang out, he came upon another guy in a Jeep similar to his own. They waved when passing, then after crossing paths several times, they found themselves parked next to each other in the park. Dallas was from town, his own age, and a baseball player for the high school. And for Tyler, it was the blue eyes and straw blonde hair and muscular build that attracted him, made him want to hang out with Dallas. But for several weekends, their other friends kept showing up, creating a large happy group, even as Tyler wished otherwise. There was a night that threatened rain, the sky darker than usual, not one star visible, with the flash of lightning in the distance. It caused most others to leave town leaving Tyler and Dallas sitting alone. Dallas had climbed into his Jeep, and they listened to music none of their friends would like.

Tyler had played the night over in his mind so often it made him crazy, asking himself why. Why did he do it? It ruined everything. Dallas had reached over and put his hand on Tyler’s thigh, up near his crotch and was leaning toward him, when he flinched, pulled back and knew immediately, he fucked up. Dallas had fled and even after apologizing about his response and telling Dallas it was okay (but never admitting to wanting it), Dallas avoided him. He understood. Dallas was afraid he would out him. He fretted over what could have been, until the day Clay showed up at his house, on leave, and Dallas was forgotten.

College was supposed to be different. A safe place he could finally be himself, but he had struggled with his classes the first semester and after that, he found himself settled into a routine that involved hanging out with guys on this floor, still closeted about his sexuality. He kept saying next semester. He would come out in the next term. James a few doors down came out in their Sophomore year, just before Halloween, and Tyler had seen how accepting most of the guys had been, even joking around James to make him still feel like one of them.

Tyler was twenty-one, home for the summer and found Clay was there, hired to be a farm hand, to help out around the place. He planted and cultivated fields, drove the grain truck from the fields to the elevator, and did the cleaning up around the barn, bushhogging around fields and repairing fences. And for the last week, seemed to be deliberately torturing Tyler, going around without a shirt, or using the shower on the back of the barn to get the worst of the dirt and grime off, before going home.

The next morning, Brent stuck his head in Tyler’s bedroom door.

“Hey, sleepy head, get up. Dad wants you to run an errand for us.”

“What? Now? It’s…”

“After eight. Come on, get up,” said Brent, his voice humorous in tone.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Tyler replied, rolling over on his back, kicking off his covers.

“Yep, and don’t let mom see that.”

“See what?” Tyler asked, sitting up. Then he saw it, a morning erection obscenely tenting his briefs. “Oh, shit,” he exclaimed as he threw the blanket over his lap. Brent was laughing, then took a step inside the room.

“Don’t freak out; it’s not like you’re the first. Now get up and get some clothes on. We’re on the screen porch.”

“Okay.”

Tyler slipped on jeans and a shirt, put on his running shoes, and headed down. He grabbed a cup of coffee in the kitchen and went out to the screen porch.

“There he is,” Russell, his father, exclaimed in mock surprise.

“Very funny. So, what is it you need me to do?”

“The combine needs these parts and the dealership in town doesn’t have them, but the one up in Montgomery does. I’ve called and they have them set aside. I need you to go get them.”

“Will they fit in the Jeep?”

“The Jeep? No, you will need to take my truck. There are a set of keys hanging up.”

Tyler went inside and when he came out, Clay was walking up the steps, his old Dodge sitting in the drive.

“We have anything on the agenda for the day?” asked Clay as he came into the screen porch.

“No, we’re all caught up until we get the parts for the combine,” replied Brent.

“You want me to run to town and get them?”

“I’m going to get them,” Tyler interjected.

“The dealership in town doesn’t have the parts so I’m sending Tyler to Montgomery for them.”

“Montgomery? Hey, can I go? I want to get a grill for my truck and the dealership up there has them in stock.”

“Go with Tyler and get it,” Russell replied, easing to his feet, “and if you’ll excuse me, I need to run inside.”

Brent looked from Clay to Tyler, like he saw something not right, then he leaned back, “don’t let Clay drive or you’ll get a ticket,” looking toward Tyler.

“Hey, I’ve not gotten a ticket in a long time,” Clay replied but Brent and he laughed knowing there was a time he nearly lost his license.

“I’ll drive,” Tyler replied, smiling too, for completely different reasons.

Motoring up the interstate, letting the fastest traffic pass, Tyler kept his eyes on the road, otherwise he would be staring at Clay too much. Clay had shown up in jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Redneck attire, Brent and he jokingly called it, and the muscular biceps were too much. So, Tyler focused on the road, familiar in his travel back and forth from the university. Clay reached for the radio, flipping through the channels disliking all the programmed stations Russell had put into it. News channels, country stations that played old music and gave weather and grain prices every half hour, or the station that was all sports, the most tolerable of all the pre-selections.

“Just use the tuner to find something. Dad’s choices suck,” said Tyler, finding his eyes going to the hand fumbling with the stations. He saw the masculine nature of it, the fingers that were not delicate, but use to hard labor.

“That they do,” Clay uttered in a low voice as he hit the search function, letting the system scan through the stations. Preachers screaming of hell fire and damnation, soul stations, country stations, then finally a rock ‘n roll station, playing older music from the sixties and seventies. “This works,” he stated, stopping the scan and sitting back.

They drove past the exit for Greenville, then Fort Deposit, getting close to Montgomery.

“Do you know where the dealership is located?” asked Clay.

“Yes. I’ve been with dad.”

They rode in silence for a few miles, listening to the songs that were before their time. They were even before their parent’s time.

“Tyler, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Tyler replied, keeping a casual expression, hiding the surge of anxiety inside.

“You meeting anyone on campus? I hope you’re dating some. Brent said you never dated in high school.”

“Not really. I’ve been so busy with classes. It was hard last year, keeping up and all.”

“I bet. I couldn’t do it.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me. You know even Brent said you were the one who would go to college.”

“I don’t know why he didn’t go.”

“Seriously? He would never made it through those classes.”

“His grades were good in high school?”

Clay laughed. “Tyler, Olivia helped him,” referring to Brent’s girlfriend.

“Really?”

Clay laughed louder, “Tyler…we were goof offs, and you know it.”

Tyler slowed when he saw the State Trooper sitting in the medium, although there was faster traffic in the left lane. Then he eased their speed back up as they passed signs of getting close to the city. More businesses at each exit, and billboards growing more prolific.

“What about you?” asked Tyler.

“What about me?”

“Are you dating someone?”

Clay sat silent for a few minutes, then whispered, “no, no one.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Since I got back, I just haven’t felt settled down.”

“I don’t remember you dating in high school either.”

Clay chuckled, “Touché.”

“Well?”

“I did try but who wants a dumb jock.”

“Very funny. I’m surprised Olivia didn’t try to set you up.”

“She did, but Brent eventually told her to stop.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” Tyler repeated.

“Hey, that’s the exit, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s further up,” Tyler replied, adjusting his position, sitting up straighter to focus on the road.

They stopped at the John Deere dealership and loaded up the parts, then rode across town to the Dodge dealership for the grill. The parts were secured in the bed and Tyler pulled out to the busy six-lane highway.

“Where do you want to grab lunch?”

“Anywhere is fine.”

Tyler drove to a bar and grill he and his dad frequented when they had made the trip. It was the large burgers that drew them, and Tyler wanted one now.

Truck parked where they could keep an eye on it, they sat in a booth along the window wall. Drinks on the table and order put in, they sat silent for a minute.

“What do you mean it was complicated?” asked Tyler.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure. Why are you working on our farm? It seems…”

“Low skill and beneath me?”

“NO, it’s just…”

“When I got back, I was floundering a bit. Drinking too much and…”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s good. I was having problems and ran into Brent one day and we…it was like old times, you know. Before…before I left.”

“Brent and you were not keeping in touch?”

“No, not since graduation. I came by the day I was shipping off, and everything seemed okay, but I knew…I didn’t bother to try to stay in touch when I was overseas.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“In high school you were always in your own little world and when I got back, you were in college, so how could you know?”

“But everything is good now?”

“Yes. Brent really pulled my ass out of that bad place I had been in.”

One of the servers came up to the table with their food, and their conversation changed to the look of the huge burgers before them.

Back on the road, heading south, Tyler replayed all the vague comments Clay had made, wondering what had happened between Brent and him when they graduated.

“So, what happened? Between Brent and you?”

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“No,” Tyler replied, smiling at him.

“I’m surprised Brent never told you.”

“He doesn’t tell me anything. I wonder sometimes if he even likes me.”

“Shit, Tyler, that’s not true. He loves you. Jesus, you should hear him talking about you going to college and aiming to do better.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“He never tells me that.”

“He also isn’t one to hug and express affection, either.”

“True. So, what happened?”

“Fuck,” Clay whispered, then sat back, staring ahead, not looking at Tyler. “You know we were friends since kindergarten and did everything together. Well, in high school, I was struggling. Trying to find my own way, and always there to pick me up was your brother. I knew better. Knew I should not have done it. But I just…” Clay fell silent.

“What did you do?”

After a long silence, “I kissed him. It was late one night in his room and we had been playing video games, and I…was lonely and wanted more. I wanted what Olivia had.”

“You kissed Brent?”

“Yeah. You should have seen his face. Jesus, he was freaked out. I high tailed it out and after that, we…drifted apart.

“But everything is okay now?” asked Tyler, trying not to over think the fact Clay had just came out to him.

“Yes. I ran into him during a leave, just before Halloween of that year, and we talked about it. He had finally told Olivia what had happened, and she was the one that made him understand. Funny, I had gone behind her back, tried to hook up with her boyfriend and she was the one defending me.”

“So, he’s okay with you being gay?”

“Gay? Funny to hear you say it. But yes.”

“Do mom and dad know?”

“Yes. I think they struggled with it at first, but they seem fine. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you okay with me being gay?”

“Oh…yes.”

Clay looked at Tyler with a questioning expression, but he turned to the side window and watched the passage of the low rolling landscape.

Tyler wanted to keep talking about it, wanted to make his own confession, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, letting his speed increase slightly, ready to get off the road. He wanted to get to one of his quiet places; his bedroom, or down to the pond, where he could think, process what he had discovered, excited by the prospect. He exited the interstate and headed toward home, following the two-lane road through the countryside. He grew more anxious as they got closer, felt like he was going to explode. And it was worse by Clay sitting quietly next to him. They turned off the main highway and he accelerated back to speed, feeling his heart race in his chest.

“Clay?”

“Yes?”

“I’m gay.”

“I know.”

Tyler pulled down to the barn, parking next to Clay’s truck. Russell and Brent came out, each dirty and sweaty from messing around inside the barn. Tyler watched Clay slide out and shut the door. They had remained silent after his confession during the last couple of miles of their drive. He eased out, and saw Clay wouldn’t look at him, then he noticed Brent staring at him, then over to Clay.

“Where do you want the parts,” Tyler asked, pretending nothing was wrong.

“Just put them on the bench by the combine. We’ll start on it tomorrow,” said Russell.

Tyler went to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. Clay had the straps loosened and was pulling them free, when Brent walked up.

“That the truck grill?”

“Yes,” Tyler replied before Clay, as he lifted the box and held it over the side toward him. “You want to take it, or should we put it in the barn?”

“I’ll take it.”

“Get up in the bed and slide those parts down to me,” said Brent toward Tyler.

Clay put the box in the bed of his truck and came back next to Brent, the two of them watched Tyler bring the smaller boxes to the tailgate, then slide the biggest two down the bed.

“Come on Clay, help me with these two big ones. Tyler can bring the small boxes.”

With everything stored in the barn, Clay told Brent he was going home, and without a glance toward Tyler, climbed into his truck and drove off. For Tyler, it stung, but he sucked it up, handed Russell the keys to his truck, and started toward the house.

He didn’t hear Brent come up behind him and flinched when a hand came down on his shoulder, making him slow down.

“What’s going on?”

“Huh…nothing.”

“Bullshit. What happened between Clay and you?”

“Brent; let it go.”

“Did he try something?”

“What?! No!”

“Then what?”

Tyler spun around and got right up in his brother’s face. “I got him to admit he’s gay, something you already knew, then I told him I was too. Something you evidently don’t know. Is that right, big brother?” The sarcastic, angered tone was so strong, Brent stepped back.

“I…huh…”

“Your brother is a faggot, so what do you want to say about it?”

Brent’s expression of shock faded, his features softened, and he smiled weakly at Tyler. “Don’t say that. I don’t have anything to say about it. I worked it all out with Clay.”

“So, you don’t hate me?”

“What? No, no. Jesus, Tyler, calm down. I know it must be tough, but I’m on your side. Okay?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Then Tyler took a choked breath and turned away from Brent, to prevent him from seeing the tears. An arm came around his neck, pulling forward.

“Come on little brother, let’s go inside and get something to drink.”

With their parents inside, Brent and Tyler sat on the screen porch. The heat of the day was bearable in the shade of the porch with a cold soda. They stared out over the familiar back yard. Their old swing set frame still sitting to the side, now a large wood swing hanging from it. Daylilies were in bloom and clouds of gnats hovered over the yard.

“When did you know?” Brent spoke in a low voice, almost afraid to break the calm that existed.

“I don’t know. Thirteen…fourteen for sure.”

“Wow, that long ago. It does explain a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way you use to stare at Clay. I thought it was some jock thing. You know, looking up to someone you wanted to be like. Instead it was you were looking at him because you liked him. Like him; if I’m reading it right.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Brent replied, laughing. “Oh, little brother.”

“It’s just…so lonely around here. There’s no one I felt I could trust, and…”

“I’m sorry you didn’t think you could trust me.”

“It’s okay.”

“Actually, no its not,” said Brent, then stopping to take drink. “Do you really like Clay?”

“No,” Tyler blurted out, then saw Brent looking his way with a questioning stare. “Yes? I think so...I don’t know.”

“I know two guys who are gay, and both are lonely and miserable,” leaning forward, looking over at Tyler.

“What do you mean?”

“Clay let his infatuation with someone…”

“You.”

“Me…yes, and he never tried to seriously date someone.”

“What about his time in the Navy?”

Brent laughed, “he’s a bit tight lipped about it, but he’s hinted there was some guys he hooked up with, but nothing serious.”

“Why did he come back here?”

“I don’t know. He seems stuck, and this is a familiar place.”

“You know when I graduate, I’m not coming back here to live.”

“I know. Your future is elsewhere. And that’s okay. You have to do what is right for you.”

The back door swung open and June stuck her head out.

“You boys want to go into town for dinner?”

“Sure,” Tyler replied.

“Let me call Olivia and make sure she hasn’t made any plans,” said Brent, taking out his cell phone.

“I spoke to her already. Let’s meet in town at six.”

The door closed and through the window Brent watched their mother cross the room and disappear around a corner.

“When are you going to tell them?”

“I don’t know.”

“For your own piece of mind, do it sooner rather than later.”

“Will you be here?”

“If you want me to be. I need to go. I’ll see you guys in town.”

That night, Tyler lay in bed wondering what he should do. Brent had been right, and he knew before the summer was over, he had to come out to his parents. It made his stomach knot up. But it knotted up tighter when he thought of Clay. It seemed every step he made with him only made things worse.

The next morning, the combine was pulled out under the shade of the oak near the barn, parked over a tarp. Russell, Brent and Tyler were tearing into it by seven that morning and withing an hour, panels and parts lay out across the tarp, positioned like in the maintenance manual.

The old Dodge truck pulled up and parked nearby. Clay climbed out and walked slowly up to them. Tyler cut his eyes, afraid to look, and saw Clay had on old jeans and a plaid shirt, sleeves intact. And he saw the stern expression and the quick glance in his direction.

“About time you showed up,” Brent joked as he stood, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Sorry, I overslept.”

“Hey, I’m just kidding. We’re just about to put it all back together and will be done shortly.”

“Do you need me?”

“Dad? Is there something we need Clay for?”

Russell came around the combine, holding a bearing, working it back and forth. “Yes, we need a couple of bearings. This one and one I have laid out on the other side. Tyler, grab the manual and come around and let’s get the correct parts number for each.”

“Yes, sir,” Tyler replied, moving past his father and around to the far side.

“Clay, you can take Tyler to get the parts. He always comes back with the wrong one,” said Russell, smiling at Clay, then over at Brent, who nodded in agreement.

“There’s no need for Tyler to go too. I can do it.”

“Just take him with you and get him out of our hair,” said Brent, giving Clay an innocent look, as if he didn’t know the situation between them.

“Okay.”

With Clay driving, they rode in silence and Tyler squirmed in the passenger seat, unable to get comfortable. They were coming into town, Clay slowing down to the town’s speed limit, when Tyler finally broke the silence.

“Do you dislike me?”

“What? No.”

“Why do you avoid me?”

“I just think…it’s for your own good.”

“My own good? Fuck. What the fuck?”

“What?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Hey, I just meant…”

“I know what you meant.”

“Tyler, you can’t expect me to respond to you. You’re in college and when you finish, you’ll go where life takes you, and nothing should hold you back. Not even me.”

“Do you like it here? Is this the life you want?”

“We’re talking about you.”

“Oh, for the love of…goddamn it.”

Clay turned and focused on driving, keeping up with the traffic.

“Okay. No, this is not the life I wanted, or expected. I had harbored foolish ideas I would have someone and could live a simple life here.”

“By someone, you mean Brent.”

“Yes. But that is unrealistic. A fairy tale, and I have to face the life I have made for myself.”

“Jesus, listen to you. It’s like you think this is it. Oh, I’m twenty-three and my life is over. What a load…”

“Tyler, stop.”

No, you stop. What if I tell you right now, straight up, I like you? Have for a long time. That I don’t know how it would play out but I’m willing to find out. What do you say?”

“You would have me leave here. Leave your brother and…”

“Never mind; just forget it.”

Over the next few days, there was a truce between Tyler and Clay. They worked together when the need arose, otherwise they steered clear of each other. Brent let them have some space, wondering if they just needed some time to work it out. But he saw their parents saw it too, and knew sooner or later, Tyler would be confronted. It was too obvious.

Friday night arrived, and after dinner, Tyler slipped on his shoes and eased out. Jeep pulled down to the barn, he put the doors inside and pulled the top back, opening it up as much as possible, then he climbed in and drove. It was still daylight, the sun low in the western sky, and it was still hot. The warm air swirled around inside the Jeep, making his t-shirt flutter against his chest, even with the shoulder strap of the seatbelt. It felt good to him, the heat, with the way it loosened his muscles and relaxed him.

He drove through the countryside, no destination in mind. He cut through Stanley and it’s one flashing light. At the intersection was the center of the community, anchored by a general store and an old elementary school building, now a community center. He drove up through Pine Hills, passing the pine stands of trees planted in rows. He turned on Harris Bridge Road and headed toward town, knowing sooner, or later that is where he would end up.

There was traffic from those in town for a late dinner, high school kids out cruising around, and a few late shoppers heading home. Tyler rode through town out to the drive-thru, an old burger joint that was more popular than the two fast food joints across the street. He eased through the parking lot, circling the building. On the opposite side he saw an old white Dodge truck, and its taillights lit up as he approached. Slowing, so not to pass it, he watched it take forever to pull out and head toward the road. He followed it, keeping back, hoping the popularity of Jeeps didn’t reveal it was him. He followed the Dodge truck out, turning toward downtown, then taking the next right. He knew immediately where it was heading, and slowed, letting the Dodge pull away.

The park was on the edge of town, nestled among oak, pine and magnolia trees. There were baseball fields, tennis courts, and a playground, and at night the park was lit up at the tennis courts and the adjacent parking, where most of the vehicles were teenagers hanging out for the night. Tyler drove past, cutting to the far side, to a small parking lot used only during daylight hours. It was the natural side of the park, anchored by a small pond with trees and trails circling it. As he approached the parking lot, the lights off to discourage its use late at night, he saw the faint white of the truck at the edge of his headlights. He slowed, then pulled in, driving up next to the truck where it was backed into a space. Clay sat on the tailgate, beer in hand, and Tyler knew he had been staring out into the park.

“What are you doing here?” Clay barked, as Tyler parked next to him.

“Just hanging out. You?”

“Fuck. Tyler, you need to leave.”

“Why? Do you hate me?”

“I told you before…”

“I know what you said, but you act differently.”

“Maybe it’s because…”

“Because?”

“Drop it. Okay?”

“No. Why do you keep pushing me away?”

“You know why,” Clay replied, jumping down, and walking into the park, not looking back.

Tyler watched him, let him get down to the pond and start around it, then he climbed out and followed. He kept back until Clay was on the far side, then he began to close the distance between them. His frustration with Clay roiled up inside of him, until he was angry. He came up behind Clay, grabbing him by the shoulder.

Clay turned toward him and even in the dim moonlight he could see Clay was crying.

“What the fuck, Clay.”

“Don’t Tyler…please…I’m not strong enough,” Clay mumbled, backing away.

But Tyler didn’t let him get far when he closed the distance between them again. He grabbed Clay by the right arm and pulled him off the sidewalk, heading toward a cluster of trees and large azaleas. Clay didn’t fight him, allowing him to pull him along until they were under the trees. Under the trees it was dark, shadows pitch black. He pushed Clay against a tree and pressed his body up against him, with their faces so close they could feel each other’s hot breath.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” Tyler uttered.

Clay remained silent, head back against the tree, the dark silhouette facing Tyler.

Tyler ran his hands down each arm until he held each wrist and he pushed them over Clay’s head, pinning them to the tree. He pressed his right knee up between Clay’s legs, tight to the crotch. Then he leaned closer and kissed him.

Clay flinched, then kissed him back. Tyler felt Clay relax, enabling him to hold both arms up with one hand. He used the other to grope him, to feel cock hardening with his manipulation.

“You want me…admit it,” Tyler whispered, as he pulled at the front of the jeans, slipping the button loose, then tugging the zipper down.

“No,” Clay whimpered, and Tyler heard the lack of conviction as he worked Clay’s jeans open, then buried his hand down the front of the boxers taking him in hand. Clay thickened, became rock hard until Tyler’s fingers barely touched around it.

“You can’t tell me to stop, can you?”

“No.”

Tyler spun Clay around, pushed him back against the tree, tugging jeans and boxers down the muscular thighs. Then he undid his own jeans, pulled out his hardening cock and pressed it against Clay’s ass, let him feel it nestled between the ass cheeks, growing fully erect. He moved against him, kissed the back of his neck, feeling the short stubble of the hair at the back of the head. Then he took his own cock, rubbed it up and down the cleft between the cheeks. Clay bent forward, pushing his ass back. Suppressing the desire to laugh at Clay, Tyler pushed his cock between the spread cheeks, and kept pushing, breaching the tight opening, making Clay shudder. He pushed inch after inch through the tightness until Clay had all of him. He leaned against Clay and nipped at his neck, as he reached around and took him in hand. He felt the wetness at the head, the slickness of it, and he smeared it down the shaft, making Clay push back against him. Then he stroked it slowly, working his hand over the head each time, making Clay shiver against him. Clay moved on his cock, ass moving forward, then back. The tight opening milked it, tugged at it until he was struggling to hold back.

“Fuck,” Tyler exclaimed, taking Clay by the waist, and fucked. He fucked hard, driving into Clay all the way, his hips smacking against the bare ass. He couldn’t stop. Holding to the narrow waist, he just thrust his cock all the way into Clay, over and over.

Clay moaned, grunt at times, but he didn’t try to stop Tyler. Instead he pushed back, took every inch. Every push of cock into his depths. He took his own cock in hand and stroked it at a furious pace, matching Tyler’s.

Tyler didn’t slow, even as he felt the need for release build. He just kept fucking, wanting to feel his cock spurting inside Clay. He wanted to fill him with his load. He pressed his forehead against Clay’s back between the shoulder blades while keeping up his pace.

“Take me…take me, you bastard,” Tyler uttered as he felt his release surge through him. Then he cried out, as he came. Clay shuddered beneath him, jerked and rocked as he jammed his cock all the way inside him, ejaculating wad after wad until spent.

Cock still pushed all the way inside him, Tyler reached around and felt Clay’s still hard cock, slick with cum. He stroked it, making Clay shudder, then he began to piston his own cock inside of him. The slickness of his previous load, the heat of Clay’s body and his still aroused state, caused him to bear hug Clay, one arm around the neck, the other stroking him to renewed hardness, as he thrust inward, over and over.

“Tyler…I’m…” Clay uttered, then jerked and shook in Tyler’s arms.

Tyler felt Clay’s cock flex in his hand as it ejaculated. He kept stroking it, making Clay pushed back on his cock as he drove it inward, all the way. After a few seconds, he came again. His muscles burned with his exertion and his breathing labored, as he eased out of Clay. He stood back, jeans and boxers down around his ankles, watching Clay pull his own up, slowly, stiffly, as if he too were sore.

“Clay?” whispered Tyler, just watching him get dressed.

Clay got his jeans buttoned up and walked past Tyler.

“Go home, Tyler, just go home.”

Tyler watched Clay walk around the pond back toward their vehicles as he pulled up his boxers then jeans. He zipped them up, fastened the button, with eyes focused on the shadowed form moving around the pond. Then he headed back too, a slow pace, giving Clay time to get to his truck. He wanted to see what Clay would do. Would he leave or wait for him to make his way back around?

As Tyler circled the end of the pond, Clay had made it to his truck, climbed in and started the engine. Within seconds the truck backed up and pulled away. By the time Tyler got to his Jeep, the Dodge was gone.

Saturday night, Tyler was back in town, cruising around looking for Clay. But after a couple of hours he knew it was futile. He was tempted to drive by Clay’s apartment, but he only knew it was one of the old ones on the north side of town. There were several that could be the one Clay lived in, then there was the problem of which apartment. It would be another futile attempt, and one was enough for one night.

Sunday, Tyler begged off going with his parents, Brent and Olivia to Greenville for lunch, claiming a headache. Once they left, he slipped out of bed, pulled on gym shorts and a tank top, and went down to the kitchen to scavenge for something to eat. He cooked two eggs, grilled the bread in the hot iron skillet, and went to the screen porch to eat.

Kitchen cleaned up, he slipped on sandals and headed out. He just wanted to walk, to feel the sun and warm breeze on his skin. He strolled down the lane that cut from the back of the house, past the barns and along a fence that cut the property in two. He walked along the wheel rut, until he came to the back of the field where the land rolled down toward the woods. Their pond was nestled in the side of the grade, a dam built around the lower side to contain it.

Tyler walked along the high grass covering the dam, until he came to the old pier, its boards weathered rough and grey, and he eased out on it, remembering his father’s warnings about staying off of it, for the boards were getting in bad shape. They creaked and pushed down, loose from nails working themselves upward. He made it to near the end, kicked off his sandals and sat with legs dangling over the side. The water was calm, almost glass smooth, and he let his toes rake the surface feeling the coolness of the water, almost as if it was coursing upward through his body.

He watched a Blue Heron stalk prey along the opposite side and heard a splash as a fish struck the surface. Then he saw movement, or heard it, or simply sensed it. He wasn’t sure but turning to look toward the place where the lane came down to the pond, he saw Clay walking his way.

Clay. The man he had wanted since he was a teenager, struggling to understand the attraction. The man who denied him, avoided him, and two nights before, let him fuck. It didn’t make sense, but then again, none of it did. Why was sexuality so messy, so lacking in hard principle, like some math equation, where the answer was always the same? Why did he have to be the one? What if it had been Brent? Then everyone would have been happy. Clay would have Brent, and he could move on, find some nice girl, get married, settle down and have kids. The perfect fairy tale. And Tyler knew it wasn’t life: not real life. He knew, watching Clay walk out on the dam, heading his way, that he didn’t really want to be different from the way he was. He didn’t want to change. What he wanted, was Clay.

And Clay approached dressed in the manner that fueled his fantasies. The look that spoke of his rural roots, a farm boy. And what was a farm boy? The image was so distorted, such a cliché. But Clay came toward him in a plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off, revealing muscular arms. It hung loose around his torso and was unbuttoned down the front far enough to see the tanned chest. Then there were the jeans. Frayed and worn, with the knees blown out and the hems nothing but strings. Where he kept his keys was worn nearly through, a white that contrasted with the faded blue. Same at the crotch, something far more tantalizing to Tyler. He could see the way the crotch bulged, how the denim was worn to reflect how Clay’s manhood lay below.

“What do you want?” asked Tyler, not bothering to stand. Instead, he turned back around and looked across the pond, as he heard the creak of boards with Clay’s approach.

“Why didn’t you go with everyone?” asked Clay, easing down next to Tyler.

“I didn’t feel like it.”

“Hey Tyler, about Friday night…”

“Just stop. I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses. Okay?”

Clay sat silent for a long time before answering. Finally, in a low voice, barely loud enough to hear, “Okay.”

Tyler watched Clay drag the toe of his boots across the surface of the pond, the ripples far greater than they were with his toes. He watched the ripples travel outward, growing more and more shallow against the pond’s surface until they were gone.

“Why are you here?” asked Tyler.

“I don’t know. Bored sitting at home, I guess.”

“You guess? Fuck,” Tyler replied, climbing to his feet. “Why don’t you go the fuck home.”

“Tyler, don’t. Can’t we just be friends?”

“Fuck you,” Tyler exclaimed as he slipped the sandals on his feet and walked toward the dam, the boards creaking loudly as he walked carelessly to the pier’s end.

“Okay…I deserve that, but…”

“But, what?”

“Wait up, will you?”

Tyler walked toward the lane, hearing the heavy footfall of boots coming up behind him. Soon Clay fell in beside him as they got on the lane, one in each wheel rut, heading back toward the barns and house. They walked in silence, a tension growing between them, until they were nearing the barns.

“I’m going to fuck you. Do you hear me? I’m going to strip you naked and fuck your ass,” exclaimed Tyler, his voice trembling with his anger and frustration.

Clay turned off the lane, heading toward the nearest barn, and Tyler followed. They went in the open bay where one of the tractors was parked, and down to a door. Clay went in, followed by Tyler, cutting across the work area, and going into another room, one for storing seed bags. It was empty now, only a few empty bags laying on the floor. Tyler came up behind Clay, spun him around, and pushed him against the wall.

“Tyler, don’t…” Clay uttered, making no move to stop him.

 “You fuck,” Tyler exclaimed as tears filled his eyes. He grabbed Clay’s shirt and jerked it open, popping the buttons off. He jerked it again, ripping it down one side. Clay stood against the wall, unmoving, as piece by piece of the shirt was torn away until he was stripped of it.

“Tell me to stop,” said Tyler, right in Clay’s face.

“I can’t.”

Tyler stepped back, pushed down the gym shorts and boxers until they were bunched around his ankles. He kicked them off.

“Suck my dick, asshole.”

Clay looked near tears as he moved to his knees. Tyler stepped up to him, rubbed his cock across Clay’s face, over the lips, then he put the head to them.

“Suck.”

Clay took Tyler in his mouth and manipulated it with his tongue, making him grow erect. Soon Tyler filled Clay’s mouth. Holding onto each thigh, Clay moved on Tyler, worked lips along the thickening shaft and tongued the head until he tasted it. The sweetness of precum. When he pulled off, breathing hard as he tried to catch his breath, Tyler was on him. Pushed down on a couple of seed bags, Tyler put Clay on his back, and roughly removed his boots, then jeans and boxers. He stripped him, lifted each leg to his chest, and moved over him, pushing legs down until thighs were against the muscular chest.

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“Yes,” Clay mumbled as Tyler put hard cock against his entrance.

Tyler pushed, hard, until a few inches were penetrating Clay’s tight hole. He cried out, shuddering with the penetration. Tyler didn’t wait for Clay to adjust. He fucked, pushing inward deeper and deeper with every thrust inward, until hips bounced off the upturned ass. Their cries echoed in the barn. Cries of pain, pleasure, desires never fulfilled satisfactorily. Tyler hammered Clay’s insides, bore into his depths with every push, and tugged outward until there were times, he slipped free, only to shove back in and push until hips smacked ass.

Tyler felt Clay’s fingers dig into his thighs, then rake up his sides until one hand held his neck. He wasn’t going to do it, but Clay pulled his head down and they kissed. Roughly, lips and teeth and tongue, as he fucked harder. It was too intimate, the touch of lips, and Tyler raised up and got on his knees.

“Roll the fuck over,” Tyler barked, and Clay obeyed, moving around until he was on his elbows and knees. Tyler didn’t hesitate, moving up and penetrating him again. Holding the narrow waist, eyes looking up the familiar back, along the spine to the shoulder blades and the broad shoulders, he fucked with all of his energy. Hips smacked against ass, as he plunged into Clay’s depths with every thrust.

As he fucked Clay, Tyler tugged off his tank top, needing shed of it. He was burning up and any garment was too much. He held Clay and fucked harder, rougher, then slowed, savoring the feel of every inch worked through Clay’s tight opening. Then he wanted something else. Something he couldn’t admit. He wanted to feel Clay against his body. To feel the heat of it, the slick wetness of the sweaty body against his own. He bearhugged Clay and pulled him to his knees, until their bodies were pressed together. He bent Clay back, and shoved cock up into him. He fucked him while dragging a hand down the sweaty chest, the heaving stomach and over the leaking cock. He stroked Clay, feeling the push back on his cock. He stroked him with a furious pace, one that matched the pace of his fuck.

 “Tyler…please…” Clay uttered.

Tyler held tight to the sweating body and fucked, drove into its depths over and over. As he fucked, he stroked Clay, his hand now slick. Clay shuddered and jerked in his embrace, then he felt the cock flex in his hand. Cum sprayed the floor, thick wads raining down on it. Tyler felt the way Clay came, and he jammed his cock into him all the way and came too.

They were sitting on the floor, naked, cocks now flaccid, and their skin covered in sweat and grime. Their breathing had finally settled down and they kept cutting quick glances at the other.

“Clay, why won’t you go out with me?”

“Tyler, I told you. It just won’t work.”

“How do you know if you won’t even give us a chance?”

“Tyler, come fall, you’ll leave, and everything will return to the way it was before, and…”

“Is that what you think? I’ll leave and just forget about you?”

“Yes, and you know what? You should.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“Tyler, what do you think could happen? I leave too, I go with you wherever you decide to live? Then what? What will I do?”

“Clay, come on.”

“No, Tyler, you need to think about your future and…”

“Just stop. Get dressed and leave,” Tyler interrupted Clay, getting to his feet.

 Clay watched as Tyler got dressed, then walked out, not looking back. He sat for a few minutes, wondering if he was wrong. Wondering if Tyler was right. But it seemed so farfetched, he couldn’t imagine it as something that could be real. He climbed to his feet, put on his boxers and jeans, picked up the remnants of his shirt and headed out. He went to his truck, not wanting Russell or June, or worse yet, Brent, to see him come out of the barn shirtless, smeared in grime. Tyler was nowhere to be seen, and he climbed into his truck and drove away.

During the week, Clay came to the farm to help Russell and Brent. Tyler avoided him, and it was obvious Clay was doing the same. Tyler worked with them when needed, but with the crop laid by and the equipment maintenance nearly complete, there wasn’t much for him to do, so he rode his bike, fished in the pond, laid up in his room playing video games, and when no one was around looking at gay websites, tempted to post a reply to some of the guys. But eventually, he would close the page and shift over to social media and Clay’s page, one with few posts, but in the photos, there were a ton of images from his high school days, mostly Brent and him. But there were a few that included him. Photos he didn’t remember being a part. And in one, just Clay and him sitting in Brent’s room, probably playing video games, he saw the look Clay was giving him. He studied the image, wondering when it had been taken, knowing it had to be close to their graduation. He had been sixteen, an age he considered so young, always comparing himself to Brent and Clay. But he saw it now. He wasn’t so young, not really. He saw how he hadn’t been a boy, but a teenager, growing into a man.

Friday arrived with thunderstorms and strong winds, and Tyler stayed home, holed up in his room. He tried to read, but the power went out around nine and he lay in the dark, consigned to the fact he might as well call it a night.

When the power came on, Tyler wasn’t sure, but he woke around four in the morning to the lamp on. He went to the bathroom, shut it off and lay back down, unable to go back to sleep. Around six, he gave up, slipped on jeans and a shirt and eased downstairs. There was stirring in the kitchen and he found his father pouring coffee.

“You’re up already?” Russell asked.

“Couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“You want coffee?”

“Actually, I’m going to town and grab a biscuit.”

“Okay.”

Sandals slipped on, Tyler went out to the barn where he had pulled his Jeep, instead of closing it up before the storm. He climbed in, eased out into the soft morning light and headed toward town.

The fast food restaurant was busy, with older customers come to socialize over biscuits and coffee, and Tyler took a small table in the middle of the dining area. He gave a nod at the two couples he recognized, then opened the wrapper and began to eat. As he finished up, about to stand, he saw a white Dodge truck pull into the drive-thru lane. He sat back and waited, wondering about Clay being up so early too. After a few minutes, the familiar Dodge pulled from the pickup window and out to the road, waiting for a log truck to pass before pulling out. Tyler jumped to his feet and ran out, determined to follow him.

Clay didn’t head toward the farm, nor did he go in the direction of his apartment. Instead, Tyler followed him out Highway 41, heading west. Traffic was light and Tyler kept back, far enough he hoped Clay wouldn’t recognize him. They drove west for nearly ten miles and just before crossing the river, the Dodge truck braked, then turned off the highway. Tyler slowed, not wanting to let Clay see him turn too. It was taking the risk he would lose him for it was a road he didn’t know.

Finally, at the turn, he saw it was a dirt road, one of the few remaining in the county, which spoke to its lack of residents. It was rough, washed out in places, and in others, slick, the surface red clay. Tyler eased along in 4-Hi, letting the four-wheel drive system keep him steady as he followed the tracks laid by the Dodge, at times zig zagging back and forth. The road followed the rolling terrain with sharp blind curves, and along its entire length, the growth along the sides hung over threatening to overtake it.

After a couple of miles, the tracks turned off the dirt road onto a drive that cut into the woods, and Tyler wondered if it led to the river. There had been logging camps along the river and a few residences the flood of 94 had forced to move out, abandoning their flooded homes, and he wondered if this road had some of those abandoned places on it. Limbs rubbed over the windshield and roll bar and raked at the sides of the Jeep as he eased along the rutted and washed out lane. The tracks of the Dodge showed it struggled to make it, tires spinning in several places, but the Jeep eased along undeterred. The lane followed the terrain as it began to fall toward the river and Tyler dropped a gear to slow his speed, letting the Jeep ease along until he saw the back of the Dodge through the trees. Then he saw the river, waters brown with mud and limbs floating on its surface. The surface was roiling with added runoff of the storm. He eased down next to the Dodge and parked. Clay was nowhere to be seen, and he climbed out moving around to the front of the Jeep and Dodge, where he could see Clay’s tracks. They led down to the river and upstream, and Tyler followed them.

“What the fuck! What are you doing here?” Clay’s voice rang out.

Tyler was startled for he had not seen Clay sitting up in a tree a few feet above the ground.

“Shit; you scared me. And yes, I followed you.”

“You need to leave,” said Clay, but the rough tone was gone from his voice.

“What is this place?”

“It had been my great-grandmother’s place, before she got flooded out.”

“Oh. You come here a lot?”

“When I want to think, which I’m not able to do right now.”

Defiantly Tyler moved closer, “what’s to think about?”

“Tyler…give it a rest.”

Looking up at Clay, Tyler stood still, waiting. Clay eased down the tree, then jumped down and stood facing him.

“Tell me you don’t like me,” said Tyler.

“You know I can’t do that.”

Tyler groped himself, manipulated his cock through his jeans, thinking of Clay. It aroused him, this defiance and longing for Clay, and soon his cock ached for release from its confines. He undid the button, tugged the zipper down letting his jeans fall open.

“Tyler…don’t…” Clay pleaded in a strained voice.

“You want me. Just admit it.”

Tyler pushed his jeans and boxers down, until they bunched around his ankles. He took his hardening cock and stroked it, letting it fill his hand.

“Come here,” Tyler exclaimed, and Clay moved to him, dropping to his knees. Tyler moved up close, rubbing his cock over Clay’s face. “Look at you.”

Clay didn’t respond, except to open his mouth and try to take Tyler’s cock. Tyler pulled back and let it hover in Clay’s face. Then he grabbed him by the hair, the top grown out just enough to get a hold, and he pulled the head back. Mouth open, waiting, Tyler refused to give him what he wanted, instead stroking his cock over Clay’s face.

“Just watch me,” Tyler uttered as he stroked it.

Clay looked up at it, mouth open, not fighting against Tyler’s hold over him. Tyler stroked it until his hand was wet, then he increased his pace. Faster and faster, until it swelled thick in his hand and he shook with release. The first ejaculation roped across Clay’s face, then the next wads spurt into the open mouth. Clay took it, every wad and when Tyler finally let him go, cock spent, Clay slipped it in his mouth and milked the last drop from it.

Tyler was frustrated, aggravated with himself and with Clay, and what they had just done. It wasn’t fulfilling. It gave him nothing that seemed real, and Clay’s submission only riled him more. He pulled up his boxers and jeans and walked off, leaving Clay on his knees on the muddy bank of the river.

The episode at the river seemed to be the final straw. The thing that made Clay really stay away from Tyler. For days, weeks, Clay came to the farm, worked with Brent or Russell, but stayed away from him. Even when Russell suggested Tyler go with Clay to get some parts, Clay cut in, telling them he had it, and took off before Tyler could be asked. Come August, only a week before Tyler was to leave for his senior year of college, Clay didn’t show up for work on Monday morning.

“Where’s Clay?” Tyler asked Brent, as he helped him clean up the grain truck, getting it ready for the soybean harvest to come.

“Oh, he took the week off. Went to the beach. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Tyler replied, but he found himself holding his breath and had to release it slowly. He had thought the approaching time for him to leave would create one last opportunity to make Clay change his mind. But Clay had made sure even this was taken away. 

The grain truck serviced, cleaned up and back in the barn, Tyler went in to clean up. He wanted to be alone. The thought of sitting around the table with everyone was too much, and he eased downstairs and out. With a note left on the kitchen counter, he took off for town, where he would cruise around mindlessly.

Meanwhile, at Orange Beach, sitting on the dry sand just above the line of crashing waves, Clay was staring out over the turquoise waters of the Gulf, unaware of anyone around him. He was thinking of the summer and how Tyler had pushed him. And he was thinking of him leaving at the end of the week.

Friday before classes began, Tyler loaded the last duffel bag into the back of the Jeep, pulled the passenger seat forward and closed the door. He hugged his parents and nodded at Brent and Olivia, torn about leaving without seeing Clay one last time. But he had to go, and it was obvious by Clay not being there, he did not want to see him.

“Call when you get there to let us know you made it,” said June as Tyler climbed behind the steering wheel.

“I will.”

“If you need something, let us know,” said Russell.

“Thanks, dad. I’ll come home when I have a weekend I can get away.”

Tyler soon found himself on the road, passing through town, heading toward the interstate. It was a drive of a little over two hours and by mid-morning he would be back on campus, getting settled into his dorm.

The weekend passed quickly, with Tyler rushing to get his books, a few items he needed in the dorm and going through the ritual of catching up with the guys. The ones he knew and those new to their floor. He played his role, just one of the guys, playing video games, going to one of the frat parties, then hanging out in town at the sports bar until they were thrown out at two thirty in the morning. And come the next week, with backpack on, he walked across campus with thousands of other students to begin his fall semester.

The first couple of weeks passed slowly. The struggle to get into the routine of doing assignments, reading chapter after chapter of one textbook or another, and not letting his thoughts drag him down. He thought of Clay all the time. When he first woke up, wondering if he was at the farm already. During the morning and the breaks between classes, he imaged Clay helping Brent with some chore on the farm. At lunch, sitting in the cafeteria, he looked at all the guys who reminded him of Clay. He watched them come in, go through the line then sit at a table, sometime close enough for him to watch. He wondered if they could be gay, and if so, were they like Clay, avoiding their attractions. He studied in the library during the afternoons to make sure he got his assignments done, then hung out in the dorm with some of the guys, watching television or playing video games. And he wondered if he should come out, be open about his sexuality. Then he wondered if it would make a difference.

On Saturday night, after those first two weeks, Tyler found himself at College Street Tavern with Brian, his roommate, and Jeff, Ian, Gabriel and Mitch, his closest friends from the dorm. They had been at the tavern far too long, and they were telling each other it was time to call it a night.

“Hey, guys, did you hear about Logan?” asked Mitch.

“No,” a couple of them replied in unison as the other shook their head.

“He’s gay. Can you believe it?”

“No, seriously?” asked Ian, as the others looked around the table.

For Tyler, it felt wrong, the way they were talking about it, and with a few drinks in him, he felt embolden to speak up.

“What if he is? You guys have a problem with it?”

“What? No,” replied Ian.

“Of course not, but it’s just surprising is all,” added Mitch.

“Why?” Tyler asked, leaning forward, pushing his empty glass to the center of the table.

“He’s not…” Ian stammered.

“He’s not feminine,” Jeff cut in.

“You think all gays are feminine?”

“No…I guess not,” Jeff replied.

“And what if he was feminine. Would that make him gay?”

“Maybe?” Jeff replied, suddenly unsure why Tyler was being so defensive. “Maybe not?”

“Hey, we don’t mean anything about it. It’s just surprising to hear it about Logan,” Mitch added.

Tyler leaned forward, building up his courage. “And if I were gay, you’d be okay with it?”

“Yeah, of course,’ Mitch replied.

There were a few seconds of silence, then Brian looked at Tyler. “You’re serious. You’re gay.”

Tyler nodded his head.

“OH my god, seriously dude, you kept this a secret till now?” asked Gabriel.

“Man, why didn’t you tell us?” asked Ian.

“I don’t know. It had been so easy to just not say it,” replied Tyler.

“I get it. One of the boys and this might change everything, but Tyler, it’s okay. Really,” said Mitch.

“Wow, this is something. Two guys we’ve known for three years and now they tell us their gay,” said Jeff.

The banter continued, as they paid their bill and made their way out. They walked along the sidewalk of town, heading back to campus, weaving in and out of the other students still stirring about. Their talk went from serious, to joking around, and it was then Tyler knew everything would be alright. When they would pick on him like normal, as they do each other, then he knew there was no unease with his sexuality, even if he was different.

“Hey, Tyler, should we try to hook you up with Logan?” asked Mitch, putting an arm around his neck.

“What? No.”

“Why not?”

“Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean I want to go out with him,”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, we’ll send big mouth down to talk to him,” said Mitch, pointing toward Ian.

The campus was quiet, except around the dorms where some were still outside, playing guitars or just huddled up in groups talking late into the night. The guys followed the sidewalk to the steps that led up to their dorm entrance. As they approached Tyler saw the person sitting at the top of the steps, and even in silhouette, he knew it was Clay.

“Guys, I’ll catch up with you later,” said Tyler, slowing down, not sure what he wanted to do. Turn and run or proceed up the steps until he was facing the lone figure sitting there. Clay had his head down, not paying attention, until the other guys began up the steps, and Tyler watched how he looked at each one, looking for him. The guys went past then stopped at the door, looking back.

Tyler climbed the steps until he was five down from Clay.

“What are you doing here?” Tyler asked.

“Can we talk. Please?”

Tyler saw Mitch and Ian step forward and motion toward Clay. He called out to them. “It’s okay, go on in.”

Clay turned to see the other guys look his way, then one by one, they turned and went into the building.

“They seem to care for you.”

“Do you?”

Clay held his head down, then looked up at Tyler, his face in shadow by the bill of his cap and the lights being behind him. “Yes, of course I do. It’s just…”

“You didn’t drive here in the middle of the night to tell me once again we’re not good for each other, did you?”

“No,” Clay replied, his voice so low Tyler barely heard him. “Can we just talk for a minute?”

“Sure, Clay, let’s talk. Follow me,” Tyler replied, turning around, and heading back down the sidewalk.

Clay followed a few feet behind in silence, as Tyler made his way out of the dorm complex and into the heart of the campus. Cutting past buildings of instruction, buildings with laboratories, and others providing services to the students. The infirmary, the Student Union, and one of the many cafeterias around the campus. He followed familiar sidewalks, until he circled around one of the newer buildings and came out into a green, open to the stadium that sat on campus.

Tyler didn’t notice how Clay had stopped, staring up at the towering structure in front of them. Over a hundred feet tall, the concrete structure supporting one of the upper decks, was like a skeleton. Rows of concrete columns and beams fanned around the side of the original bowl structure, like a ribcage. Tyler was crossing the road heading toward it, and Clay started to walk after him, picking up his pace until once again a few feet behind.

Tyler walked up to the stadium, moved along the towering concrete structure, until at a place the security lights didn’t illuminate as well, and he moved underneath, standing in the middle of the bay. Clay moved nearby, leaning against one of the concrete columns, a small form against the massive structure. They stood still, neither saying anything for a long time, letting the silence of the late-night settle around them.

“Okay, Clay, talk to me,” said Tyler, the anger gone from his voice.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you left. It’s just…”

Tyler waited.

“You know what it’s like, to be different, back there. I remember when I realized I liked Brent more than as a friend, and it terrified me. But I couldn’t stop it. No matter what I told myself. And he never let me pull away, having no idea why I tried. I kept hoping. God, how I hoped, dreamed that, just maybe, he would one day feel the same. When he started dating Olivia, I was heartbroken. And I knew he would never…”

Clay’s voice broke, and Tyler knew he had started to cry. He watched him slide down to the ground, pull knees up and lay his head down on them. Then he heard the strained voice start again.

“It was just before graduation, and I noticed you watching me again, and that is when I knew you were the same. The way you were looking at me. Such longing, and I saw how I must have looked. And for a brief second, I thought about it. I could have you instead. But you were just sixteen, a kid, and I could never…I wanted Brent.

“Right before graduation, that weekend it rained so hard. You know the weekend. Your dad thought you guys would lose the pond, afraid the dam would collapse with the water going over it.”

“I remember.”

“I told Brent that Saturday afternoon after we had been playing video games for a while. Boy, I fucked it up. I should have just told him I was gay and left it at that, but I didn’t. I confessed how I felt, and it was too much for him to take in. He freaked out and I ran.

“I thought our friendship was over. I stayed home the next day, resigned to the belief I had lost my best friend.

“I felt like…I made things different and knew it would never be the same between us. I joined the Navy the next week and shipped out three weeks after graduation, telling myself I would never return.”

“So, why did you come back?”

“Because I’m a fuck up.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I actually thought the Navy would change me, make me a man. You know, the kind our parents expect,” laughing bitterly at the idea of it. “Fuck, it was the opposite. I met one guy, then another. Lost my virginity before ever getting on a ship, then…it was crazy. But I was miserable, and drank too much and…

“When my time was up, despite the offers to re-enlist, I packed up my duffel bag and got out. I tried to find a place for myself, but California was too much, and I headed east. Ended up in Oklahoma City working in a truck stop. Then it was Memphis working two jobs, one at a convenience store and the other at a tire store. After eighteen months, I found myself getting off a bus in town, having made my way back. I was so lost. I got a job at the tractor dealership, working in the stock room and cleaning up the place. I hadn’t been there two weeks when Brent came in.”

“That’s when he got you to come work with dad and him?”

“Not that time, but a few days later he showed up again with the offer. And it had been so easy, to just pretend the last five years didn’t happen, and fall back into this routine where I longed for Brent. And you were here, getting an education, pursuing a goal in life. But when you showed up for the summer…no longer some sixteen-year old kid. I tried not to think about it, how I knew you were the same. I couldn’t go from Brent to you…you with a goal in life. A better life.”

“Don’t I get a say in it?”

“What?”

“If you had just considered it, shouldn’t I have been able to say what I wanted too?”

“Yes.”

“So, why are you here?”

Clay sat up, leaning back against the hard concrete, his body a dark silhouette against its surface. Tyler knew he was looking at him, even though the eyes were in dark shadow.

“I tried, goddamn I tried. I thought being gone when you left would make it easier, but all it did was make it worse. Funny thing is, I don’t think of Brent like that anymore. I look at him and see the best friend a guy could have, but those longings are gone. Instead…I think of you. Fuck.”

Tyler walked over to Clay and stooped down in front of him, putting a hand on one knee.

“Are you going to stop pushing me away?”

“But how will this work?”

“One day at a time.”

Tyler led Clay back to the dorm and up to his room. Brian was asleep, leg hanging off the bed and one arm laying over his head, the position he always slept in. Tyler pulled back the covers on his bed as Clay used the bathroom. The door eased open and Clay came into the room.

“Did you bring clothes or anything?”

“No,” Clay replied, “I sort of started driving and didn’t stop until I got here.”

“How did you know which dorm to wait at?”

“I called your brother. He wasn’t too happy about the late call, but he didn’t seem surprised either.”

“Well, let’s get some sleep,” said Tyler as he tugged off his shirt, pulled off his jeans and eased down on his bed, sliding over to the wall making room for Clay. Once undressed down to his boxers, Clay slid down next to Tyler and turned to face away. Tyler moved up behind him, spooned up to his back and hugged him. “Relax and go to sleep,” he whispered.

The sound of guys talking and walking by filtered into the room and Tyler stirred awake, finding himself alone in bed. He opened his eyes to see Clay standing at the window. Brian’s bed was empty, so they were alone.

“You’re up,” Clay whispered without turning around.

“Yeah…how long have you been up?”

“A little while.”

“When did Brian leave?”

“Not long ago. Said to tell you he would be gone most of the day. Something about a hiking trip.”

“Oh yeah, some of the guys are going to this park nearby.”

Tyler sat up and looked at the muscular man standing at his window. Twenty-three years old, veteran, farmhand, and gay. It was the latter that he thought of the most, this aspect of Clay he identified with himself.

“Clay.”

Clay turned and came to the bed, sitting down next to Tyler. Tyler looked at him, then reached out and ran his fingers along the cheek and jaw, feeling the stubble. He took the chin and turned Clay to face him.

“Can we do it right, this time?”

Clay nodded his head and leaned forward, kissing him on the lips.

As they kissed, hands roamed over bare chests and stomachs. Tyler held Clay by the neck and eased him down on his back. He moved over him, letting their bodies press together. Every touch of bare flesh hot, sensitive to every move or change in pressure. Cocks grew hard, pushed against the front of boxers, as they kissed more passionately. They became more physical, fingers digging into firm flesh and Tyler’s leg pushing up between Clay’s, spreading his legs, letting him slip between them.

Clay pushed Tyler’s boxers down, worked them over the hard cock and round ass, and Tyler raised up, letting him push them down until below the knee where he was able to work them off. Clay pulled Tyler to get up, to get on his chest, and Tyler complied, straddling Clay. Naked, cock angled out hard. Tyler sat on him, letting the eyes roam over him. He saw them looking at him as if for the first time and it aroused him. His cock bobbed up and down.

Clay cupped Tyler’s ass cheeks and pulled him to move up. Tyler slide upward till his cock rubbed Clay’s face and watched as a hand took him, stroked him a few times then held him steady as lips kissed the head, then parted to take it. Tyler shuddered at the feel of Clay’s lips as they slid down his cock, then he pushed forward, sinking most of it into the wet mouth.

The hands on Tyler’s ass guiding him to move, to pump his hips and he worked his cock in Clay’s mouth, pushing inward, feeling the lips and wet tongue drag along the shaft. Then he tugged it outward, till only the head was in the mouth and the tongue toying with it. He kept pumping his hips, slowly, feeling ever inch work through those lips, until his arousal grew too great, a need for more stimulation overpowering. Then he began to fuck.

The bed squeaked as he rocked his hips, working them faster and faster, until he couldn’t stop. His toes curled and he leaned back, pushing his hips forward, feeling the surge of release. He shuddered, jerked, then filled Clay’s mouth. He held his cock in the mouth, feeling it flex with the last of his load as Clay swallowed.

Tyler was still hard when he slipped free and he moved down Clay’s body until between the long legs.

“Yeah…do it, fuck me,” Clay uttered, raising his legs to Tyler’s chest.

With the legs against his chest, Tyler shifted forward and rubbed his wet cock along Clay’s ass. Then he pushed against the tight opening until he penetrated it. He pushed forward, feeling the head of his cock squeeze through and he kept pushing until every inch was buried in Clay. He shifted forward, moved over the prone body, folding it in half and began to fuck.

Tyler drove into Clay’s depths, bouncing hips off the upturned ass. He leaned further over, pressing thighs into chest, and kissed him as he fucked. His pace increased quickly, grew more physical, until Tyler was crying out, begging him to fuck harder. And he did, exerting his body until it was covered in sweat, droplets raining down on Clay. He exerted his body until the muscles burned and his skin felt feverish, hot to the touch.

Cum hit Tyler’s chest and stomach, as Clay came. It was hot against his skin and the scent hit his nose. The scent of sex. Of man. Of Clay. Unable to hold back, Tyler shoved into Clay’s depths and came too.

It was late in the day, the sunlight cutting sharply across Brian’s bed, as Tyler lay snuggled up to Clay in his bed. They had been napping after having sex again. Except for a quick burger at the cafeteria, they had stayed in bed all day, naked, cocks manipulated and sucked, then Tyler’s pushed into Clay’s depths, over and over, until the two were finally spent, begging the other to leave their cock’s alone.

The door swung open and Brian came in, tossing down a small daypack and kicking off his shoes. When he saw Clay, then Tyler still in the bed, he froze.

“It’s okay, come on in,” said Tyler.

“You guys still in bed?”

“We got up to eat lunch.”

“Jesus. All afternoon?”

Tyler didn’t reply, just smiled as he looked over Clay.

“Nasty fucks,” Brian uttered as he pulled out some clean clothes, then stood up. He stripped off his shirt, then shorts, tossing them in a pile. “We’re going to get cleaned up and head over to the pub. You guys want to go?”

“The pub?”

“Yeah. We’re starving after hiking and eating nothing trail mix all day. And you guys obviously have been exerting yourselves. After I shower, get your asses up and cleaned up.”

“Clay?” asked Tyler.

“Sure.”

“Okay, we’re in.”

Tyler and Clay sat at the table with four other guys, friends of Tyler from the dorm. The other guys talked of the trials, the rattlesnake they came upon and how Ian was so uncoordinated, falling twice, then they joked with Tyler and Clay, and spending the day in bed having sex. Clay turned red in the face, at how the guys were so open about it, but Tyler laughed with them, feeling normal for the first time in a long time.