Being There

The corn in the Mitchell fields was beginning to dry back, and Brody was glad his dad didn’t want to grow it. Instead, they focused on soybeans, wheat, oats, and on occasion, a crop of grain sorghum for Buddy Gibson, who ran the only remaining dairy farm in the area. As he passed the last field, he saw morning glory vines beginning to take over an area in the corner and he knew it would spell trouble when Buddy tried to combine the corn. He was coming from the Ferguson field after having surveyed the soybeans looking for worms, and was now heading home.

He considered what it meant: home. He was still living with his parents, and having just turned twenty, it bothered him to still be under their roof. At times feeling trapped by it. Two years ago, there was a time he was convinced his parents would ask him to leave. After a tumultious week, they came around, telling him everything was okay. Right after graduation, feeling lost and isolated, he had came out to his sister, then his parents. Addison had been surprised, but not shocked, for he had never dated any of the girls that had flirted with him, nor had he taken anyone to the prom. She was two years younger and more open about what she thought, having at times defended someone on television who was gay or culturally different, arguing with her dad until he waved his hand, signaling he was done arguing. Coming out to his parents had lead to the usually denials, push back, telling him he was wrong. He had stood at the dining room table and took it, until his mom told him he shouldn’t be making such a choice. It was one the thing he coudn’t endure hearing.

To think he had made some choice had been infuriating. He didn’t have regrets about being gay, but the notion he choose it, wanted to be alone in this small community, made him furious. He had responded with a harshness his parents had never seen from him. But it was Addison who spoke up, standing her ground, not him. They had been shocked, and later, Addison told him how upset they had been, eventually realizing they were wrong. Ultimately it was not about him being gay, but how hurt he had been when told it was a choice that made them reconsider what they believed about sexuality.

It was hard to believe it had been two years ago and in some ways nothing had seemed to change. He still felt isolated, and except for a few disastrous dates with guys he met online and the brief period he dated the guy from Bryneville, he had been living the life of a loner. There were times he felt like it was time to move out on his own. That it would give him the freedom to pursue someone with greater ease. But he hesitated, and late at night, he knew it was fear that prevented him from doing so. What if he moved out and found nothing changed. That would be the worst.

As he approached Mill Creek Road, he slowed in order to turn off at the small store on the corner. It was the one that anchored the community, gave it a sense of place where people would cross paths, hang out with Candice Elison, the owner, gossiping about the latest rumors or talk of soybean futures and the weather. Pulling in next to two familiar trucks, he parked his own old Chevy and climbed out, for he wanted a drink. He had walked the fields until dying of thirst, and was craving a soda.

He rounded the front of store, passing the ice freezer and a propane tank display, and saw the rear of an unfamiliar vehicle. It was a 4Runner, one fairly new by the look of it, and he wondered who in the community had traded. Entering the store, the bell jiggling, he found Charlie and Travis at the front counter talking with Candice, and they turned to him, said hey, or in Travis’ case, a nod of the head.

“Hey, how’s everyone?” said Brody.

“Good,” came a reply in unison.

Brody moved across the front of the store to the drink station and he noticed someone at the end of the counter putting a lid on their cup. He couldn’t stop himself from doing it, and he began to size up the guy. A bit taller than his own five ten, with a leaner build, the t-shirt hanging loose around the stomach, and curling out around a John Deere cap, black hair that was a longer than what other guys wore, most cutting their hair really short. Once in the same aisle where he could see the guy more clearly, the t-shirt was tucked into jeans that fit snug around the hips and ass, revealing its round form and he fought the urge to stare. Grabbing a cup, he pushed it against the ice lever, then moved it to a soda lever, filling the cup. He cut his eyes over to the guy when he saw movement, seeing him step back and head back toward the front counter, walking behind him.

Stepping back to move to the lids and straws, Brody looked around and saw the guy look back, then just as quickly, turn back around while walking to the front.

Lid on cup, straw punched through it, Brody headed to the front counter, trying to keep his pace casual, unhurried, for he didn’t want anyone to think he was rushing back to the counter to see the guy up close. Especially the guy himself.

“A dollar sixty-three,” said Candice to the guy as Brody came around and moved behind him. He had seen the face, its narrow overall shape with a strong chin, prominent nose and dark eyes, so dark they looked as black as his hair that hung down from underneath the cap.

“Here ya go...a dollar and...fifty...seventy-five cents,” the guy replied to Candice. “Keep the change,” he added as he stepped aside letting Brody move up.

Brody stepped up to the counter, holding out two bills, and as Candice rang up his drink, he looked at the guy, who took a quick sip of his drink, gave him a returned glance, then headed out the door. Change dropped into his pocket and drink in hand, Brody went out in time to see the 4Runner pull away, heading down Mill Creek Road in the opposite direction he needed to go.

“Damn,” he uttered under his breath, and he went back around to his truck to head home. It was only five miles down Mill Creek Road to the east of the store.

* * * *

Brody came in from feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs, to find his sister at the breakfast table. She was dressed in a new top and jeans, and beside her a new backpack. It was the first day of school for her last year. He saw how she was excited, knowing what it had been like for himself, this starting of senior year, with graduation suddenly within sight. He went to the sink to wash his hands before getting another cup of coffee.

“Hey Brody, give me a ride to school. Mom won’t do it.”

“What’s wrong with the bus?” he asked, not looking around as he suppressed a smile.

“Very funny. You know very well it sucks. Come on, give me a ride? Please? I’ll do your laundry this week?”

He turned to look at Addison and saw the faux smile and angling of the head, the same gesture she used on their parents to get her way. He leaned back agaisnt the counter and smiled at her.

“Just today; I’m not driving you to school every morning, and you have to do my sheets and clothes this week.”

“Brody, no. It’ll take three loads to do it.”

“Enjoy the bus ride.”

“Okay, you win.”

“Let me have a cup of coffee and we’ll go.”

“Can’t you drink it on the way?”

He knew she wanted to arrive early to hang out with her friends. One thing about the small rural community, he knew all her close friends. Savannah, Madison and Dakota, the latter too gossipy for his tastes, then there were the two boys, Jacob and Ricky. He wondered if there had ever been anything between one of the boys and one of the girls. Growing up, he had considered them little kids, but last spring he realized Jacob and Ricky were no longer little kids, and it was Jacob, another son of a farmer, that captured his eye the most. He wondered why Addison didn’t date him, for he was the embodiment of the perfect farm boy: tall, blonde, blue eyed with a damn near perfect smile, dimples and all.

“Okay, grab your backpack and let’s go,” Brody relented, knowing how important the first day was to her, as it had been in previous years. Despite seeing her friends all summer, there was something about the first day of school.

At the dropoff, Brody saw Savannah, Madison and Ricky sitting on a bench near the rear doors and as he pulled around to let Addison out, Jacob came up to help her.

“Hey Brody,” Jacoby said over Addison, then he turned his attention to her, “here let me take your backpack.”

Brody saw it, Jacob showing a like toward Addison that spoke of more than mere friendship. He saw the look in the eyes, the way he helped her out, taking her backpack. She didn’t seem to notice, and he wondered if it was an act, playing ignorant to Jacob’s attention. She was going to college next fall, majoring in the veteninary program, and it would take eight years, first for a bachelor’s degree, then four more in the vet program, and maybe she felt any relationship with Jacob wouldn’t last. Could he wait for her to finish? Brody knew Jacob was going to farm with his father, thus remaining in the community. Addison hadn’t be forthcoming on her plans after college, and he wondered if that had a bearing on her attitude.

He watched the two of them approach the others, and realized one’s sexuality was not the only thing in which someone had deal with. He swung his truck around and headed to the exit. As he passed familiar vehicles coming in to drop someone off, or in their own rides, he saw a black 4Runner turn in. It was like the one from the store, and as they passed, realized behind the wheel was indeed the very same guy, plus a younger looking version in the passenger seat. The guy waved, and automatically, he returned it, then nearly ran off the drive, the right wheels running over its broken edge.

That afternoon, Brody came in after doing maintenance on the tractors, changing oil, filters, and checking hydraulic hoses, to find his mother in the kitchen making pies.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, Brody, they are for the assisted living facility in town,” Caroline replied as she rolled out the dough. “Hey, can you do something for me?”

‘Yeah, sure.”

“I told Addison I’d pick her up after school; can you go get her?”

“Sure, I’ll just go clean up and head over.”

Brody went upstairs to his room, pulled out clean clothes, a plaid shirt and jeans, and took a quick shower. He brushed his teeth, then wiped off  the fogged up mirror to see his reflection. He looked at the person staring back, wondering how other’s saw him. He knew the cliche of blondes having more fun, and it seemed black hair was next for capturing someone’s attention. He ran a hand through his reddish-brown hair, seeing the light reflect red, and wondered if anyone really found his hair color interesting. His green eyes stared back and he rubbed his fingers along his jaw feeling the stubble. He hadn’t shaved since Saturday, and he looked at the dark red shadow of a beard. He thought it looked good, made him look more mature, manly, but he wondered if others saw him that way.

Dressed, with wallet and cellphone, he headed down to the kitchen.

“Can I take your car? Mine is in need of a cleaning up.”

“The keys are lying on the counter by the phone,” Caroline replied without turning around.

“Thanks,” Brody replied, picking up the keys to her Buick Enclave, a four year old SUV, and headed out.

The drive behind the school was full of cars come to pick up someone, and Brody eased along with them making his way up to the covered sidewalk. He saw Savannah and Dakota get into the latter’s father’s SUV, then he saw Ricky crossing the drive going out to the student parking. He finally made it to the sidewalk, where Addison was coming his way, walking between Jacob and Madison. The three friends came up to the passenger door, Jacob opening it for Addison, as they said their goodbyes. Brody watched his sister climb in and take her backpack from Jacob, then had his attention pulled away. The guy in the 4Runner was walking past, with a younger guy that had to be a brother. Same hair color, similar features, and they were even dressed similar, t-shirts and jeans. The one he had crossed paths looked taller than the other day, for he stood above most of the other guys, and without a ballcap, Brody could see the thick, wavy hair, and he stared as the guy ran a hand through it, pushing it out of his eyes.

“Brody? Let’s go,” said Addison.

Brody realized she was belted in, ready to go. “Oh, yeah, let’s get home.”

“Where’s mom?”

“Home, cooking pies.”

“Oh,” Addison replied as she watched Jacob cross the parking lot.

“Jacob has filled out.”

“Yes.”

“He is really attractive.”

“Yes...hey, wait. Are you interested in him?” Addison asked, turning to face Brody.

“What? No...I just thought...aren’t you interested in him? He seems to pay you more attention than the other girls.”

“You think so?”

“Addison! Please, open your eyes.”

“I guess,” she replied, looking back at Jacob getting into his old Dodge truck.

Brody got in line to exit the parking lot when the 4Runner pulled up. He slowed, and waved for him to enter the line.

“Who is that?” Brody asked Addison.

“A couple of new guys, Wesley Spencer is in my class, and his brother, Wyatt, is in the tenth grade. Their family moved here over the summer. Their father does something with the Ad department and their mother is a teacher over at Oak Hill Middle School.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I saw the older one the other day.”

“He is hot, but a bit aloof.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s standoffish. His brother is outgoing and probably has half his class as friends by now, but Wesley, he’s shy, or...” Addison stops, turns to Brody and grins.

“What is it now?”

“He’s like you were, avoiding everyone, and we know why you did it.”

“You think he’s gay?”

Addison laughs, shaking her head, then she sits back quiet for a second. “Maybe. Why, you interested?”

“No!” Brody exclaims, and he can hear how forced he said it. “Besides, he is only seventeen.”

“And you’ve just turned nineteen. Two years difference, less than between mom and dad.”

“Yeah, but he is in high school and still a minor.”

“I guess,” Addison replied, sounding unconvinced.

* * * *

Halloween landed on a Thursday, and Brody found himself driving Addison to a party at Seth Bradberry’s family’s farm. There were tables sitting in the barn and wood stacked up for a bonfire in the pasture to one side. Brody swung around in the rear drive and saw two of his former classmates walking to the barn with guitar cases.

“What are Bill and Paul doing here?” he ask Addison.

“What does it look like? Their band is playing.”

“Really?”

“Really. Why don’t you park and come have listen to them play? You might accidently have some fun while you’re here.”

“Very funny.”

“Seriously, Brody,” said Addison, her tone earnest. She leans back into his truck, and gets his undivided attention. “Park and come over. Just for a little while. You know Landon is in the band too, and will be here,” referring to one of his best friends who was dating a girl in Addison’s class.

“I..huh...”

“Come on big brother, live a little,” she interrupts him, smiling.

“Okay,” Brody replies.

Brody enters the barn and see haybales scattered around the inside as places to sit, and he wonders who is still doing hay into the small bales. To one side is picnic tables with snacks, buns and condiments, waiting on the meats to cook. Coolers sit on the floor and he heads to them for a drink, speaking to Landon on the way. Eventually, he finds himself sitting alone to one side of the barn listening to the guys play cover songs. Blur, Foo Fighters, Green Day, and a host of other bands were part of their playlists. He watches Bill, Paul and Landon jump around on stage, playing guitars while Ian plays drums. The party is just getting into full swing, grills smoking with hamburgers and hot dogs, some going through a hanted house made in the other old barn, while everyone else mills around the newer barn listening to the band and talking among themselves.

Headlights cut through the barn as someone turns in the rear yard and Brody, like everyone else, turns to see who is pulling in. Its too dark to make out well, but he recognizes the black 4Runner as it parks. Both front doors swing open, and the Spencer brothers climb out. It is quickly noticeable Addison had been right, Wyatt was soon surrounded by classmates, being led to one corner of the barn, while Wesley strolled in alone, nodding at the few who acknowledged him.

Brody tried not to do it, but he watched Wesley come into the barn, speak to Addison and Dakota, then to Jacob. Even from across the room, he saw it was a strained conversation. Wesley went to the coolers with their iced down drinks, pulled out a soda, then milled around aimlessly, making his way to the side of the barn with the fewest people, the side Brody was sitting.

The band started another song, and Brody turned to the band telling himself to stop staring at Wesley, for he was only a kid, just seventeen. Occasionally he sees some of the others look his way, and he knows from their expression what they are thinking, or worse, gossiping about him. Addison had warned him a week ago, there were rumors he was gay and had been seen with another guy in Greenville about two months ago. It made him feel tired, the constant worry about what others thought.

The band finishes a couple of songs then takes a break; Bill, Paul and Ian heading to the coolers, but Brody sees Landon is coming his way, head down, hands buried in his pockets. It was his typical posture when walking alone, one Brody had witnessed often over the years. Landon ambled up to him and sat on the next haybale.

“Hey, you think we play okay?”

“Of course, you guys are pretty good,” Brody replies, and he watches Landon nod his head.

“You guys do okay with your soybeans?”

“Yes, the fields did pretty good. Just wish the price was a little higher.”

“Yeah, well, we take what we can get. Where’s Sarah?” referring to his girlfriend.

“She’s helping at the grills.”

They fell silent, and Brody sensed Landon was going to ask him. The anixousness of his body movements and how he wasn’t looking around to face him.

“Go on, ask me,” said Brody.

Landon turned and looked at Brody, then back to the center of the room. “Is it true?”

Brody sat up, leaning forward with elbows on his knees. “Yes...it’s true.”

“Why didn’t you tell us in high school?”

“Tell you what? Hey, guys I’m a fag and...”

“Brody, don’t.”

“Sorry.”

“Brody Miller is gay,” Landon whispers, then he leans forward too, same posture as Brody and looks him in the face. “It’s funny, Noah told Ford and me last spring you were gay, and we...” Landon laughs, shaking his head. “Well, I guess he was right.”

“Do you have a problem with it?”

“There was a time when I would have said yes, but now...no, I don’t have a problem with it.”

Brody sat up, suppressing a smile, glad to hear Landon was okay.

“Is it because Sarah made you watch that movie with the gay guy coming out?” asked Brody, and Landon looked at him surprised.

“You knew she dragged me to that flick?” Landon replied, and the two of them laughed.

“Addison told me.”

“Figures. I guess if she knows, you would too. The two of you were always close. Does she know about you?”

“Yes, and mom and dad too.”

“No shit? You told them?”

“Yes, and it was a bit rough at home for a week or so.”

“I bet.”

“Are you...seeing anyone?”

“No.”

“Must be tough. I mean, is anyone else around here gay?” Landon whispered, then he looked toward the open garage door. “Hey, Sarah is coming in; catch up with you later.”

“Yeah. Go on, she’s looking this way, so don’t keep her waiting.”

Seth Bradberry moves to the middle of the room and gets everyone’s attention, telling them the hamburgers and hot dogs are ready. Brody waits, watching the others line up and move past the tables. When the line is down to just a few, He gets up and strolls across the barn. He notices someone to his left, just the edge of his vision and he glances around seeing it is Wesley.

‘He has waited like I have,’ Brody thinks, as he comes to the end of the line. Turning, he sees Wesley come up behind him and he steps aside, motioning Wesley to get in front of him.

“Thanks,” said Wesley, and after a couple of steps forward, he glances back at Brody, then moves onward to the table.

Brody follows, picking up a paper plate, then getting a hamburger bun from the bag. He follows Wesley, watching him add condiments, then lettuce, tomato, and cheese, and he follows suit, doing the same. At the next table, he goes for the potato chips when he sees Stacy come up to him with Rachel, his girlfriend, in tow. They were a year behind him, thus graduated last year, and he knew Stacy was working at his father’s shop.

“Hey Brody Miller, is it true? Are you a faggot?”

The tone of it, the way Stacy said it in such a challenging way, made Brody burn inside. He stood still, plate shaking in his hands revealing the anger he was trying to conceal. Everyone nearby turned to them, waiting to hear his response to Stacy’s question, one taunting in nature.

Brody moved closer to Stacy, but didn’t lower his voice, instead he raised it so everyone could hear.

“Yes, I’m gay. And in the future, if you use that term again, I’ll knock you the fuck out,” Brody practically yelled.

Stacy pushed him and he regained his balance then started moving forward, ready to fight. Jacob and Landon were suddenly between them, along with two of Stacy’s friends, pushing them apart.

“Okay, okay, I’m not going to fight the asshole,” said Brody, stepping back, letting Jacob and Landon relax.

“Brody,” said Addison, and he turned to see her looking at him with saddness, and it felt like pity.

“I’m sorry,” said Brody, looking at her, “I’m going home. Jacob, can you take her home?”

“Yeah man, I can do that, but don’t leave, there is no...” replied Jacob.

“Thanks,” Brody cut off Jacob, and he threw his plate with the untouched food into a garbage can and started for the open garage door. He could feel everyone’s eyes on his back. He was near the door when he saw Wesley standing to the side, plate and drink in hand, watching him leave. He couldn’t read Wesley’s expression. It looked partly like Addison’s, but there was something else about it. Some look in the eyes that gave Brody pause.

After the party, word spread quickly through the community. Everywhere Brody went, there were stares and whispering behind his back, or a room would go silent when he entered. At the grain elevator, he went with Franklin, his dad, into the office to put in an order for wheat seed, and when the room went silent, he stared back at several of the others, defiantly, daring them to say something. They would look or move away. At the counter, Ed the manager was talking to Shirley and Tom, and when they looked up, it was Ed who greeted them, moving closer to the counter.

“Are you here to order wheat?”

“Yes,” Franklin replied.

“Shirley, put in the order for them. Franklin, the same as last year?”

“We’ve rented that small field at the Wilson place, so add 45 bags to it.”

“Okay,” Shirley replied, her eyes on Brody.

“What?” Brody barked, making her look down.

“Brody!” Franklin whispered.

“It’s okay, Shirley, let’s not be rude, okay?” asked Ed, then he looked at Brody, “sorry, but some are scared by what they don’t understand.”

“Yes, they are,” Brody replied, and he stepped back, “dad, I’ll be in the truck.”

The next evening, Brody was in the nearby town of Donovan, the place to shop, buy groceries, or get parts for vehicles or farm equipment. It was also the closest place to eat out, having a diner in downtown and out by the shopping center two fast food joints and a Mexican restaurant in the old pizza place, which was the reason he was in town. He had felt couped up since Halloween, and tonight he just wanted to eat out. He had not called Ford or Landon, instead choosing to eat alone. He drove through town and rejected the diner when he saw some waiting on the sidewalk to get in. He continued to the outskirts of town where the shopping center and other places to eat were located. He passed the fast food joints and pulled into the Mexican place, glad to see the parking lot was not packed.

He stepped inside and saw it was mostly people he didn’t know, most probably residents in town, but there were a few from the farming community and he saw some look his way. Their stares were judgmental, and he swallowed his pride, knowing it was not the time or place to speak out, nor did he have the energy to do so. The hostess came up, asking how many.

“Just me,” Brody replied, and the hostess seemed surprised he was alone.

“Follow me,” she said, and Brody followed her along the wall of booths. They were half way down when he saw Buddy Gibson and he wanted to turn away. Mr. Gibson was someone they had sold crops for his dairy, and Brody wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to cross paths with him. He took a breath and determined he would just pretend to not see him, looking to his side as he approached the booth.

“Brody. Brody!”

Buddy Gibson called out, too loud for Brody to ignore and he stopped at their table, where Mr. Gibson and his wife were having dinner.

“Mr. Gibson.”

“How’s the family?”

“Good. I trust you family is well, too.”

“Yes, yes, everything is good. Hey, I want to talk with you and your dad about maybe growing corn for me next year. February will be here before you know it and I’m thinking I need 50 to 75 acres to cut for silage.”

“Yes, Mr. Gibson, I’m sure dad will love to talk to about it. You want me to have him call you tomorrow?”

“That would be good. Tell him any time after six.”

“AM or PM?” Brody joked, knowing Mr. Gibson kept long hours on the dairy.

“PM,” Mr. Gibson replied, laughing.

Brody realized they had to know, the gossip was too good not to spread like wildfire in the community, but Mr. Gibson acted normally.

“Well, I should let you get back to your dinner,” said Brody.

“Wait,” said Mr. Gibson.

Brody stepped back and waited.

“I just want you to know...well, we, Marilyn and I know this must be a trying time for you and want you to know we understand and don’t agree with what some are saying.”

“Thanks,” Brody replied, fighting back tears he didn’t expect. “Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Gibson...that means a lot.”

“We shouldn’t judge others,” Mrs. Gibson replied, “now go on, go get to your table so you can have dinner.”

Brody sat stunned for a long time. When the waiter sat a drink before him he tried to remember ordering it, then he was surprised to find a plate set in front of him. He saw the Gibson’s stand up to leave, waving at him as they did so. He waved back, grateful to have run into them.

He was nearly finished when he saw a group of boys come into the restaurant. Justin came in first, followed by Sam, both in the eleventh grade, and behind Sam, Wyatt Spencer followed. They were joking around and talking animatedly. The hostess led them to a booth along the wall where the Gibson’s had been seated, and Brody saw Wyatt look his way, say something to the other two boys, then come his way.

“You’re Brody, Addison’s brother.”

“Yes, and you’re one of the new guys: Wyatt Spencer?”

“So, we know of each other; that’s good. Can I sit down a minute?”

“Sure,” Brody replied, curious about what Wyatt could possibly want to talk to him about.

As Wyatt sat down, crossed arms on the table, and looked across at him, he saw the confidence and extroverted nature his sister had spoke of.

“That was an ugly scene; the Halloween party?” said Wyatt.

“It was for me.”

“Can’t say I blame you for wanting to punch Stacy Amerson out. He’s such a...” Wyatt let his voice trail off, then he focused on Brody again. “You’re gay right?”

“Boy, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“Sorry, I’m not good at descretion. That would be Wesley.”

“Your brother.”

“Yes.”

“So, what do you want?”

“I’m not sure how to ask this, but how did you know?”

“Huh?”

“Okay, wrong tact. Can you keep this between us?”

“Sure.”

“I think Wesley is gay, and he is...Brody, he’s miserable.”

“What do you think I can do about it?”

“I don’t know. Talk with him...maybe.”

“But you said he might be gay, not that he is gay.”

“My brother use to tell me everything. He was...not like now. He began to change a few years ago. At first nothing noticable except in hindsight, but two years ago, he really became introverted.”

“What would happen if he was gay and came out to your parents?”

Wyatt scratches the side of his head, and Brody realizes one difference between the Spencer boys is Wyatt’s hair is straight, not wavy like Wesley’s hair.

“Dad drags us to church every damn Sunday, but it isn’t so bad. It’s the Episcopal Church over in Oak Hill.”

“I don’t know it.”

“It’s probably the most liberal church of the protestant denominations, and they accept gays and lesbians, so dad should be good with it.”

“What about your mom?”

Wyatt grins, then leans closer, “she’s more liberal than dad. She is...” lowering his voice even more, “an atheist.”

“Really?”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“No...I just never knew someone who would admit to it.”

“What about your folks?”

“Non-practicing Methodists. We’ve not been to church in years.”

“So, your parents accepted you being gay?”

“Yes. So, Wesley has nothing to worry about at home. It is just everywhere else he’ll have to deal with it,” said Brody, motioning with his head for Wyatt to look across the room.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it; the stares. I just want to go over and ask them what the fuck are you staring at? You every feel like that?”

“All the time,” Brody admits, and he becomes aware why Wyatt is the one who makes friends so easily.

“I’m going to talk to Wesley and...”

“Are you sure that is a good idea? I mean he should choose when he comes out.”

“I agree but if he thinks we’ll reject him, then he needs to know he can come out to us. I’m just going to open the door for it.”

“Addison did for me, although she’ll deny it if you ask.”

“I assumed that was the case after talking to her. She is a nice person; I like her. And I think she should give Jacob a chance.”

Brody chokes on his drink, then looks at Wyatt. “Is there anything in that school you haven’t figured out yet?”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m sure Mr. Sawyer, the science teacher is having an affair with the girl’s P.E. teacher, but I’m not sure.”

“What? Where in the hell did you hear that?”

“Oh, that is just a hunch. I tend to be very observant of other’s behavior. It’s funny what you can pick up just by watching someone.”

“Like your brother?”

“Yes. So, if he needs to talk with someone, will you do it?”

Brody leans back, thinking of all the conversations he had with Addison.

“What about you? Addison was someone I could lean on; don’t you think you could do it for Wesley?”

“Yes, but...Wesley had a hard time at our last school. The last year there was rough for him, and he might need someone more atuned to his situation.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’ll do it?”

“If he decides he needs to talk to someone, yes.”

Brody didn’t know about any of it. To expose himself to someone that made him feel his sexuality, seemed a bit dangerous. But he looked at Wyatt, and couldn’t say no.

“Give me your number, and I’ll pass it on to Wesley.”

* * * *

Brody dwelled on his conversation with Wyatt. It seemed so long ago, yet it had been last Friday night, and he found himself roaming the back of their property the following Sunday afternoon. The weather was cold, a front having come through the night before. Jacket zipped up, gloves on and cap pulled low on his head, he strolled along the wheel rut of the lane that wrapped around the property. He passed the front section that was field, wheat soon to be planted, then passed the pasture that sat between the field at front and the woods at back. There were a few head of cattle, something his dad insisted on, and he watched them eat the hay set out for them earlier that morning. At the back of the property, he walked along the lane, looking down in the wood. There was a spring fed stream just below the lane, and he imagined it feeding a fish pond, something he had begged his dad to build for years. His dad had initially considered the idea, until he found out the red tape involved in getting approvals for tampering with natural drainage or waterways.

Halfway across the back side, his phone rang, and he pulled it out only to see a number he didn’t recognize. He started to send it to voicemail, but something made him hit accept.

“Hello.”

“Is this...Brody...Brody Miller? Addison’s brother?”

He knew who it was without asking.

“Yes; is this Wesley?”

“My brother said I could call you if I wanted to talk. I think you saw Wyatt last Friday night.”

“I talked with him. He’s quite a character, that brother of your’s.”

Wesley chuckled, but it didn’t sound right, like he forced himself to do it.

“Yes, he seems able to find his way, no matter what.”

“Does that mean you’re struggling to find your way?”

“Something like that. Can we meet somewhere? Somewhere private?”

“Sure. When?”

“This afternoon? Would that be too inconvenient?”

“No, today is good. The question is where to meet,” Brody replied, trying to think of someplace without prying eyes or ears. No place in the community felt safe. He considered places in Donovan, dismissing each as fast as he thought of them, then he remembered a place no one would be since it was the middle of November.  “Do you know Oak Hill? The town to the east about ten miles away?”

“Not really, but give me a place or an address and I’ll be there.”

“Memorial Park, on the south side of town. When you enter, go past the open park area, tennis courts, and basketball courts to the Little League playing fields in back. No one will be there today. I’ll be at the bleachers for playing field three. Give me an hour to get clean up.”

“I’ll see you in an hour,” Wesley replied, then the call ended.

Brody stood in the lane staring at his phone, wondering how he would do it. How could he be a confidant to someone he was attracted to?  He knew the best way was to keep telling himself Wesley was underage, just a high school kid, and he was meeting him to help him, not try to seduce him. He started walking, then jogging, cutting across the pasture, heading to the gate.

Brody pulled into the park ten minutes early, hoping to beat Wesley. He eased around the park until at the small baseball fields, parking at the end of one parking lot where evergreens grew adjacent. It wasn’t much concealment, but it was some. He climbed out, zipped up his coat, slipped on gloves and pulled the hood of his coat over his head. Truck locked, he walked into the Little League park, going between the first two fields. There were four in total, their homeplates at the center of the formation of the grouping, where they could share an observation tower and concession stand. Field three happened to be one furtherest from the parking lot, it’s outfield fence close to the woods beyond.

He moved up on the bleachers to a spot that would have been perfect if a game was in progress. He could look over homeplate down the line to first base. He sat halfway up and waited.

As anxious as Brody was to see Wesley, he fought the urge to turn and watch for him. Instead, he sat still, appearing patient, looking out across the playing field and the scoreboard, then the woods. He didn’t hear Wesley drive up, nor did he hear him walk up, but he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked over in time to see Wesley step up on the lower bench and easily step on each ascending one until standing just below him.

“You made it,” said Brody, looking up. He saw the anxiousness, the fear he had once felt, still did on occasion. “Come on up and sit.”

Wesley moved up and stepped down at the bench Brody sat upon and eased down next to him about four feet away.

“Thanks for meeting me.”

“I assume you came out to your brother.”

“I don’t think I really came out to Wyatt. He knew already.”

“What about your parents?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Everything at home is fine.”

“It’s just everywhere else that worries you?”

“I’m new to the school, have made no real friends...that’s not true. Your sister and her friends have been nice to me, but...”

“But you’re afraid they might still reject you?”

“Yeah.”

“I can assure you, Addison will not, nor will her friends. Some of the others will be a pain in the ass, but...” Brody hesitated, waiting on Wesley to look his way, and when he saw the blue eyes, “ you just have to stand up to them.”

Wesley nodded, then sighed heavily.

“Why is it so lonely?”

“We isolate ourselves because we think we’re the only ones, then feel trapped by it when we want out.”

“I look online and...how do you meet other guys?”

Brody heard the loneliness in the voice, and he wanted to lie, but he couldn’t do it.

“I’ve not had a lot of luck myself, if I’m honest. There have been a few I’ve met, and one I dated for a short time.”

“What happened to him; the one you dated?”

“He was so paranoid about being discovered, so scared someone would find out, it was maddening. I couldn’t deal with it.”

“I feel like I’m the only one at school.”

“I did too. What about after you graduate? I assume you’ll go to college.”

“I’m enrolled in horticulture at Auburn.”

“Really? Addison is going there for veteniarian school.”

“Wow, that is a tough one.”

“So, you want to operate greenhouses.”

“I want to do something sustainable, some year round food production, but...It’s tough. Grocery stores have their vendors, and farmer’s markets close in the winter, so there has to be another outlet?”

“Like independent little stores that would be located in every community?”

Wesley turned to Brody, and for the first time looked less worried, instead had an expression of someone thinking about the possibilities of a suggestion.

“Maybe...that isn’t a bad idea. I was thinking of tying the operation to some restaurants.”

“Restaurants? That would work too.”

“Or maybe both,” Wesley uttered in a low voice.

They sat silent for a minute just staring across the playing field.

“I’m sorry I don’t have some perfect answer for you,” Brody uttered in a low quiet voice.

“I didn’t expect you to have one. Honestly, I just wanted to talk to someone who was gay too.”

“Even if it is a dumb ass farm boy?” said Brody, making it sound like a joke, even though he thought it the truth.

“Why would you say that? I don’t think that about you,” Wesley replied. “I don’t think you’re dumb,” he added, then looked away from Brody.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are you going to come out at school?”

“I don’t know. Wyatt and Addison have told me to do it, but...”

“They don’t have to suffer the reprocussions of it?”

Wesley laughed, nodding his head. “Something like that. What do you think?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Part of me says to keep your mouth shut and get through you senior year. But then, another part of me says fuck ‘em, and you should do it. See if the fuckers can handle it.”

Wesley looked at Brody to see if he was serious, and they began to laugh, loudly.

Brody followed Wesley back to the parking lot and stood near the driver’s door of the 4Runner. Wesley climbed in and lowered his window.

“Thanks. I know there is only so much you could say, but just you listening to me a minute was a help.”

“Any time you want to talk, you have my number.”

“Seriously? I can call you if I want to talk?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thanks. I guess I should be going. Dad will be worried if I’m not back soon. He’s worse than mom.”

Brody watched the window raise and Wesley start to back up, then stop, lowering the window.

“Brody, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Ask away.”

“Do you find me attractive?”

Brody drove back home, finding himself driving slower and slower, as he replayed the last conservation with Wesley. ‘Do you find me attractive?’ played over and over in his mind.

“Fuck” he uttered aloud, wondering if he could have handled it differently. What if Wesley reacted to his reply, then what? He pictured the brown eyes staring at him, one partially concealed by a lock of black hair. After being out in the cold, Wesley’s cheeks had been rosy red, and it made him look more boyish in the face. Then he had looked at the lips, the shape of the chin, and the long neck. Yes, he liked what he saw, liked it alot.

“Yeah, your attractive, but then again, I think you knew that already, right?”

“Would you go out with me?”

“Go out...I don’t think that is a good idea. I mean, you’re still in...high school and...”

Brody thought about how he let his voice trail off and saw the affect it had on Wesley. His expression saddened.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. I better go,” Wesley replied, backing out of the parking lot too fast, causing the front wheels to slide when he slammed on the brakes, The window was up and the 4Runner accelerating away before Brody could regain his composure and realize he should not have let Wesley leave upset.  

He had text messaged Wesley as soon as he got in his truck, but there had been no reply.

Back home, he ate dinner with his family, then excused himself and went to his room, shutting the door. He lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how he should have responded. It was nearly ten o’clock when his phone beeped with a message.

‘Sorry about earlier. I needed a friend, then messed it up. Can we start over?’

Brody looked at the message and wondered how much he should say in reply. He fretted over it for far too long and when he typed a reply, saw twenty minutes had gone by.

‘Yes.’

November faded into December, and with it, the hectic nature of the holidays. Family gatherings, community functions to organize, then partake in, and through it all, Brody was meeting up with Wesley. There was conversations in coffee shops in Greenville and Harrisburg, walks in the park back in Oak Hill, and as they grew more comfortable with each other, they began to meet at one or the other’s home. At the Miller farm, they walked the perimeter lane, hung out in the living room (a room rarely used) or sat at the dining table, Caroline stirring around in the kitchen while listening to them talk about Wesley’s plans, his anxieties and how he struggled with those that bullied him. At the Spencer home, they played video games with Wyatt and one of his friends, working in teams against each other, or they sat on the screen porch overlooking the rear yard that was dug up with preparations for new landscaping, or they walked along the road going past Mrs. Barfield’s house and the abandoned barns of the old Brown place, the house long gone from a fire back in the eighties. They would walk until they came to Deer Creek where they stood on the sandy bank and watched the slow moving waters.

And they talked about being different; gay in a rural place that left them feeling isolated and alone.

Brody tried to relax around Wesley, to be a close friend, but there was always the dilemma of his attraction toward him. He avoided any physical contact, not even a hug or simple gesture like a hand on an arm, something meant to calm or say everything was alright. Instead he had to use words, nothing but words, and for Brody Miller, it was the most difficult thing in the world. But he tried, for Wesley’s sake, for he cared about him in ways that made him feel breathless.

For weeks, he tried not to do it, to let himself think of Wesley in ways sexual. But late at night, alone in his room, he eventually stopped trying. He openly thought about it, imagined what Wesley looked like naked, lying in bed with him. He had seen Wesley without a shirt one time, when changing after getting food on it, and he had found himself holding his breath listening to his heart beat faster. A lean muscular body that spoke to a teenager becoming a man. Now he pictured that body, created the illusion of it touching him as he ran his own hand over his chest, down his stomach until fondling is growing erection. He masturbated regularly, and always picturing Wesley in ways lurid and sexual.

By law, Wesley was a minor, and horror stories Brody had read scared him, and deep inside, some part of him knew he also used it as an excuse. Wesley was going to college next fall and eventually find his own life probably somewhere other than here. He was protecting his own feelings, afraid of how much it would hurt to pursue them, if in the end, he ended up alone again.

* * * *

The new year arrived cold and rainy, as it seemed to do often. The days passed with things back to their normal routines, the holidays over and decorations slowly pulled down and packed away. Brody and Wesley hung out at their homes more often, where it was warm and dry. As the days passed, Brody saw Wesley grow more animated, more excited, and he knew the reason for it. The next Saturday was the eleventh, Wesley’s birthday. He would be eighteen, no longer a minor, and it made Brody anxious in ways he was too scared to admit.

At the Spencer home, Brody listened to preparations being made, and how there would be a small party. Faye, Wesley’s mother, cornered Brody two weeks before when Wesley had gone to the bathroom, wanting to know if Wesley had mentioned what he wanted for his birthday. There were times Brody fell into the spirit of the planning, making suggestions of his own. But there were other times he felt like the earth was shifting out from under his feet. None more so, than when Wyatt had gotten him into his room, and with his computer pulled up to different sites, one for clothing, one for gaming, and one for books, asked for his advice on what to get his brother. As they talked, Wyatt had turned to him and asked what he was going to get for a gift. A ring, maybe, he had asked, smiling mischievously. It threw Brody, this acknowledment of what he knew to be true. That as much as he liked Wesley, it was also true, Wesley liked him. Come Saturday, January the eleventh, his one big excuse for not pursuing Wesley would evaporate.

Brody found himself not the only one two years older. Landon was there with Sarah, and Paul also from their band. But the vast majority were seniors, which included Addison, Jacob, and their close knit group. Wyatt came in with Justin and Sam, each with a girl in tow. For the party to be considered small, Brody was surprised at the number of people crowded into the Spencer home. Everyone hung out on the ground floor, in the family room or around the dining table. Pizza was served, then the cake brought out, the top aflame with eighteen candles, and finally the gifts were put in front of Wesley to open.

Brody had stayed at the perphery as much as possible, watching Wesley and how he seemed happier than at any time before. Wyatt and Addison had told him the school had divided up, those in support of Wesley, and those who couldn’t get past their bigotry. For Wesley, it had shown there were more in support of him than those that opposed him.

Wesley opened his gifts and most were gift cards, but there were also bracklets, video games, and books in the Sci-Fi genre that he liked the most. When Wesley got to the small box wrapped in blue paper, Brody worried once again if it was something Wesley would like. Wesley read the card and looked around the room, searching for him. When their eyes met, Brody smiled despite his nervousness. When Wesley got the box open, he lifted out a necklace, one of small black stainless steel chain. It had cost over two hundred dollars, and as it was held up for every to see, Brody felt embarrassed at how much he had spent for it. Wesley got Addison to help him put it on, and Brody looked at how the dark metal lay against the skin, contrasting with it, and he suppressed his feelings, a longing to touch the skin the necklace lay against. He looked down, breaking his stare, and when he looked up Wesley was looking at him in a way that made his heart race.

The party broke into groups, some playing video games, some sitting around the table gossiping about school, and some went to the screen porch to hang out. Brody found himself stuck at the wall in the dining room, watching the others. He felt like he should leave, but he didn’t want to, so he stood against the wall. Wyatt and Landon came into the room and stood either side of him. No one said anything for a long time, and Brody felt trapped, knowing they were up to something. It was Wyatt who broke the silence, first pushing off the wall and moving in front of him.

“When are you going to ask Wesley out?”

“What?” Brody replied.

“You heard him. Dammit Brody, it’s pitiful the way the two of you circle around each other,” said Landon.

“But...”

“No buts,” Wyatt interrupted, and he moved closer, making Brody realize Wyatt as tall as Wesley, and he tried not to look into the brown eyes staring him down, but he couldn’t turn away, knowing he wanted to hear what Wyatt had to say. “Wesley won’t make the first move and do you know why?”

“No, tell me.”

“He’s afraid you’ll reject him.”

“But he’s leaving next fall and...”

Wyatt eyes grew wide, and he looked over at Landon. “That’s it.”

“What?” replied Landon.

“Why this dumbass won’t ask my brother out,” said Wyatt. He turned back to Brody, lowering his voice. “He’ll leave for sure if you don’t tell him how you feel.”

“But I can’t do that. He should pursue his dreams and...”

“Blah, blah, blah; sell that shit to someone who’ll believe it,” said Wyatt, cutting Brody off. “Yes, college is important to him, and he will go, but that doesn’t mean he can’t come back to live here. You know what he wants to do, right?”

“Yes...greenhouses and...”

“Let’s not get bogged down in the details.”

 “But it may not work out.”

“It may not, but how will you know if you don’t try?” said Landon.

“Brody,” Wyatt uttered in a serious tone, “I don’t know what it is like for you, or Wesley, but I know it isn’t easy, but you can’t be so afraid that you don’t even try, and continue to live this isolated existence. Addison tells me how you mope around and only seem happy when getting ready to meet Wesley. And how you are sad when you return home. Is this how you want to live, until you do find yourself alone?”

“No.”

“Then take a chance,” said Landon.

“You really think Wesley is serious about me?” asked Brody, looking at Wyatt.

“He is as pathetically in love with you as you are with him,” Wyatt replied, smiling.

The party was winding down, only a few remaining. Brody had joined in with the video gaming, partnering with Wesley, until he felt someone else should be allowed to play. He went into the kitchen and moved up to the sink as Faye was gathering up plates and forks from the dining table.

“You want me to wash these?” asked Brody, looking at the large platters and cake plate in the sink.

“Brody, no, I can do it. Go back and enjoy yourself,” Faye replied.

“I’ll help; I don’t mind.”

Faye sensed it, Brody needing some space from the others, and she nodded, then continued gathering plates. She loaded the dishwasher while Brody washed the large items in the sink.

“Brody, I want you know we really appreciate everything you’ve done for Wesley. It has been tough for him.”

“I’ve not done anything really; I was just his friend.”

“Friend?” Faye repeated, and she chuckled or scoffed, Brody wasn’t sure which.

“I mean...I...”

“Brody, its okay. I know Wesley being in high school created this barrier, made him seem like a kid instead of an adult and quite frankly, he is still my little boy in so many ways, but...” Faye turned to look at Wesley with his friends playing video games, laughing at something one of the others had done, then she looked back at Brody. “I’ve seen it, this thing between the two of you, and it is not my place to encourage or discourage it. It is up to the two of you to work it out. But Brody, you’ll not have any dispute with Franklin or I.”

Brody froze, hands holding a platter as suds dripped off of it back into the sink as he looked at Faye.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing to say, not to me. Now either wash that platter or give it to me,” said Faye, smiling at Brody, and the tension Brody had felt seeped away. He smiled back and shook his head.

“I’ll finish it,” said Brody, running the dish cloth over the platter.

It was dark, the house settled down, Faye and Franklin watching an old movie, Wyatt gone out with friends and on the screen porch, Wesley and Brody sat on the swing, slowly rocking back and forth. There was an awkward silence between them, what little conversation was superficial. Brody couldn’t take it, not after Landon and Wyatt had cornered him, then the conversation with Faye Spencer. He leaned back, looked up at the light blue ceiling of the porch and exhaled heavily, then looked down at the floor.

“Wesley, where do you see yourself after college?’

“After college?” Wesley replied, then he fell silent for so long Brody thought he was not going to answer. “I see myself operating greenhouses, selling to restaurants, or at farmer’s markets, or maybe directly to individual customers.”

“But where?”

Wesley looked at Brody, and something in his expression changed, softened, and he smiled.

“It doesn’t matter where, if I have someone who loves me and wants to be a part of my life.”

Brody figeted, broke the rhythm of their swinging, and kept his eyes on the floor.

“What about you? Could you ever let someone be a part of your life?” asked Wesley.

Brody nodded his head.

“Could I be that person?” asked Wesley.

Brody nodded his head, and didn’t see Wesley smile.

“I know I’m still in high school, but I’m eighteen now.”

“Yes,” Brody whispered.

“Will you ask me out?”

Brody looked over at Wesley, and felt himself breathe, a simple, easy breath, and he smiled.

“Yes.”

They smiled, then laughed, the tension that had existed between them was suddenly gone. They fell back into casual conversation, nothing of importance, while they swung back and forth feeling the night get colder.

“I have to hit the bathroom,” said Brody, “will you be out here?”

“Yes, I’ll wait.”

Brody went inside, looked back at Wesley who was swinging back and forth while staring out into the darkness, then he went past the doorway to the hall and into the family room where Faye and Franklin were watching television.

“Excuse me, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?” Faye replied.

“I was wondering if it would be okay...” Brody hesitated, wondering if he was asking too much.

“Brody, just ask,” said Franklin.

“Okay. I was wondering if I could take Wesley to the beach next weekend. I know that may be asking too much and he has school and...”

“Brody,” said Faye, interrupting him, and with his attention, she continued, “it’s okay. You can take Wesley to the beach. In other circumstances, I’d probably would have said no, especially if someone asked the same with Wyatt, but with Wesley, and with you, its okay.”

“Really?”

Franklin laughed, nudged Faye.

“Even after we say yes, he has doubts. Brody, it’s time both of you start living,” said Franklin.

“Yes, sir,” Brody replied, grinning foolishly.

The first date was to the diner in town on Tuesday night, and they sat along the wall to the side, ignoring the stares from others. They didn’t hold hands, or kiss, or any of the other gestures a couple may do on a date. They remained stoic, aware of how they were being watched, but it didn’t lesson their joy in this, their first date. Brody waited until dessert was served to ask Wesley whether, or not he wanted to go down to Pensacola Beach for the weekend. He rambled on about it being winter and too cold to go into the water, but he had reservations at a hotel on the beach and they could just enjoy getting away, and he kept talking until he finally realized how much he was rambling on.

“Well...you want to go?”

“Yes, I want to go, but I’ll have to ask mom and dad if it is okay.”

Brody leaned back and smiled.

“I’ve already asked them and they said yes.”

“Really? When did you ask them?”

“Last Saturday night, after your party.”

The wind blew from the north, so cold the temperatures fell to below freezing. But the shore was calmed by the winds, the waves barely lapping at the shore, and for as far the eye could see in either direction, the beach was empty. It was after seven when Brody and Wesley arrived at the hotel, and they found the place quiet in the darkness of night. They checked in, then drove down the beach road to a seafood restaurant. Despite the vancy of the hotels and rental units on the island, the restaurant was busy. There was a chaotic nature to the restaurant, with the noise of conversations and music playing, that was comforting. They immersed into the chatter and crowd waiting at the door. Then they were away from it, at a table in the back of the restaurant.

Wesley smiled, then laughed for no reason, or none he would confess to. It was contagious, for Brody was soon laughing too.

Back at the hotel, the curtains pulled open, and only the light of the small foyer on, Wesley moved to the glass sliding doors that led out to the balcony, and he waited. He saw Brody reflected in the glass, and he watched him hesitate, then approach.

Brody saw Wesley watching him in the reflection. Brody moved up behind him and slipped arms around the narrow waist, pulling their bodies together. He kissed the back of the neck, then the side of it. He stepped back, unbuttoned his shirt and let it slide from his shoulders and down his arms. He undid his jeans, worked them down his legs then each foot free. He stared into the window where Wesley eyes were watching him, and he slipped his boxers down until they fell to his ankles and he stepped out of them as he moved back to Wesley. He pressed his body against him, feeling the soft cotton shirt with the lean body within against his chest, and against his cock, he felt the soft denim, and he pushed against it harder revealing his desire, this lust for him.

He turned Wesley and kissed him, not like last weekend, with its innocent of a first kiss, but with a passion that consumed him. Wesley pushed back, then they were kissing with open mouths, and tongues touching. Reaching between them, he undid Wesley’s jeans, worked them open, then he fulfilled a fantasy that had obsessed him for months. He went to his knees, tugged Wesley’s jeans and boxers down and buried his face into the abdomen just above the small fan of black pubic hair. He captured the masculine scent and felt the firmness of the abdomen. He kissed it, dragged his tongue over the skin, upward, then down. He moved down until his lips grazed the hardening cock, and he kissed along it growing length, until the spongy head was at his mouth. He took it between his lips, hearing Wesley moan, and pushed forward until he had every inch.

He toyed with Wesley’s cock, tongued the head, and soon found he couldn’t take it all. He let it fill his mouth while he moved on it. Forward he pushed until he could no longer take it, then he pulled back, dragging lips along the hard shaft until the head was at his lips. He toyed with it, tongued the head again then pushed forward again.

With eyes closed, he focused on Wesley’s cock, the feel of it in his mouth. He kept up his ministrations until Wesley cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders, and his mouth suddenly filled with cum.

He helped Wesley step out of his jeans and boxers, then stood in front of him, undoing each button of his shirt, until it fell open. He ran a hand up the stomach and over the chest. The skin smooth and firm and so warm to the touch he didn’t want to stop. Looking at Wesley he smiled, and saw a smile in return, then Wesley leaning toward him until their lips touched again. A hand moved down his stomach, then took his cock, stroked it making him grow fully erect. He pushed it through the hand, slowly, feeling the grip tighten.

Wesley stepped back, took him by the hand, and led him to the bed. Wesley stared up at him while easing back on the bed, worked his way on it then laid back.

“Brody, do me,” Wesley whispered.

Brody moved onto the bed, and on hands and knees crawled over Wesley. He leaned down and kissed him. He felt legs wrap around his waist and a hand between them. It stroked him, made him so erect he shuddered with the manipulation, then it guided him to the tight opening. He pushed against it, feeling it resist, but Wesley pushed back and suddenly the head of cock was squeezing through. He eased into Wesley, slowly, pushing inch after inch into him. The tightness milked his cock and made him struggle not to shove inward all the way. He wanted to penetrate him with every inch of his cock. He wanted to feel it sunk inside the hot body, to make a physical connection with it.

Wesley moaned, moved beneath Brody in a manner that drove him to fuck faster. He clung to Brody and begged him to fuck harder. Brody took him by the hands and held him down while driving his cock into the depths of his body.

The bed rocked and squeaked with their exertions, none more so than Brody’s. He fucked until his muscles burned with the exertion and he felt feverish, burning up, as he sweated. He kissed Wesley on the neck, up along the jaw, then on the mouth. He slowed down, pumped his cock so slow he could sense every inch pushing in then tugging outward through the tight opening. He savored it, relished how it felt. Then he sat up on his knees, took each leg behind the knee and folded Wesley in half. Thighs pressed against chest, he drove his cock back into Wesley’s depths and began to fuck again. This time he didn’t slow, instead he hammered his cock inside of him. A brutual pace he could not keep up, and far too soon, he shoved into Wesley’s depths and came.

“Shower with me,” Brody whispered after they had lain until their breathing returned to normal.

Their skin glistened wetly in the light of the small foyer as Brody led Wesley into the bathroom. With the shower running hot enough to steam up the bathroom, they eased under the spray and kissed. As water cascaded down bodies, hands explored the other, feeling the smooth skin, the muscular forms, and the curves and shapes of arms, pecs, hips, asscheeks, and cocks growing hard again. Wesley turned to the wall and leaned agaisnt it, looking over his shoulder.

“Brody...put it in me again.”

Brody moved up behind Wesley and entered him. Slowly he pushed every inch of his cock into him, then he held the narrow waist and began to fuck. He pushed into Wesley’s depths over and over, until their bodies were smacking together. Then he wrapped his arms around him, held on tight as he thrust upward, burying his cock inside of him. He rubbed hands over the chest feeling the hard nub of each nipple. He rubbed downward, over the undulating stomach until his hand held hard cock. He stroked it and felt Wesley move against him. He felt the push forward, the cock sliding through his grasp. Soon Wesley controlled their pace, pushing back on his cock, then pushing forward, fucking cock through his fist.

Wesley increased his pace, slamming his ass against Brody, then thrusting forward, until he was shuddering and jerking, crying out with release. It pushed Brody over the edge to feel it, this release by another within his arms, and he pushed cock into Wesley and came.

With the curtain left open, the early morning sun lit up the room with its warm glow. Brody held Wesley, their bodies spooned together while they slept. It would be mid-morning before Brody stirred. He kissed the back of the neck and eased out of bed to go to the bathroom. After a piss and brushing of his teeth, he decided to get into the shower. His muscles ached and he still felt half asleep. The small bathroom steamed up quickly and he stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door shut. He bathed slowly, running the soapy bath cloth over his body, making the skin feel clean and refreshed. He didn’t notice the door open, or hear the sliding glass door. But he sensed it, Wesley’s presence, and he smiled when hands moved around his stomach and a warm body pressed against his back.

“You’re up,” said Brody.

“Not yet,” Wesley joked, reaching down to toy with Brody’s cock.

It didn’t take long to have Brody aroused, cock fully erect. And Wesley kept stroking it, increasing his arousal until he couldn’t hold back. Brody spun around, pushed Wesley to the wall and when legs were raised up, he held each, holding Wesley up and against the wall as he pushed forward. He pinned Wesley to the wall and guided his cock to the tight opening.

“Do it...put it in me,” Wesley uttered breathlessly.

Brody penetrated him, pushed cock into his depths and began to fuck.

Brody drove them back over the bridge to Gulf Breeze to grab breakfast at one of the fast food restaurants in the commercial strip. Then they crossed Pensacola Bay Bridge that ran for nearly three miles across the bay and entered the downtown area of Pensacola. The strolled around Seville Quarter and the surrounding historic district, had lunch in a cafe on Palafox, then drove north to Crodova Mall. After strolling the mall, browsing in some shops, they went to a nearby movie theater.

Sitting in the dark theater, Wesley raised the arm between them and took Brody’s hand. The movie was an action flick, and not a very good one, and they found themselves laughing at the silliness of some scenes.

By the time they came out it was dark. They walked across the parking lot, bumping shoulders and grinning at each other.

“I’m getting hungry; what do you want to do for dinner?” asked Brody.

“We could go back to the beach and go to that seafood place.”

“It was good. Let’s do that.”

Back in Brody’s old truck, they drove over to I-110 and headed south. At its end, the ramp dropped them onto East Chase Street and before long they were turning on Bayfront Parkway that would take them to the bridge. Across Pensacola Bay, through Gulf Breeze and finally the bridge over English Navy Cove, they arrived back on the barrier island, heading west toward the restaurant.

It was after nine thirty when they finally got back to the hotel. Wesley was in front, almost to the door, when Brody called out to him.

“Hey, Wesley, let’s go for a walk on the beach.”

Wesley stopped and turned to face him. “Okay.”

They took a sidewalk around the hotel, instead of cutting through it, and came to the board walk that would take them over the section of beach with vegetation. At the end of the walk they walked out on the beach, each step squeaking in the pure white sand. They strolled toward the shore until on the wet sand that gave them better footing.

“Which way?” Wesley asked, and Brody shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, let’s go this way,” taking Brody by the hand and leading him toward the west. The main pier was in front of them and they strolled down the beach, passed underneath it and continued west.

“Wesley, do you think your plans for greenhouses will work back home,” asked Brody.

Wesley heard the tone, one that questioned their future, hinting at a fear there was not one.

“Why not? There are multiple towns nearby that have restaurants, there are a few farmer’s markets in the larger towns, and Montgomery is only an hour or so away.”

“So, you’ll come back after college?”

“If there is a reason to do so.”

Brody smiled, tightening his hold on Wesley’s hand.

Back in the hotel room, Brody came to Wesley with an urgency. He pulled and tugged at Wesley’s clothes until he had him naked. He kissed him, moved his lips over the bare skin until on his knees. He took Wesley in his mouth and sucked until Wesley was pushing him back, pleading with him to stop, that it was too soon. Brody stood, playfully pushed Wesley on the bed and began to strip off his own clothes.

Wesley grinned at him once he was naked, revealing an erection that showed how much he was already aroused. Wesley rolled to his stomach and looked over his shoulder.

“Fuck me,” he taunted, while still grinning.

Brody moved over him, kissing the left asscheek, the lower back, up along the spine until he was kissing the back of the neck and along the shoulder. He pushed his cock down to align with its target. Then pushed against it and felt Wesley push upward.

“Brody...please...do it.”

Brody pushed again and penetrated the tight opening. He lay on Wesley and moved in that most primitive of ways, undulating hips, driving cock into him, thrusting deeply. He bear hugged Wesley around the neck, clung to him desperately, aroused by the feel of him, the press of flesh, the heat of the contact. The way his cock felt as it moved through the tight opening.

Wesley undulated underneath Brody, showing his own aroused state. He moaned when Brody sank into his depths, then cried out when he felt the cock nearly pull free.

“Keep going...” Wesley uttered, as he pushed upward at the hips.

The bed squeaked beneath them. Brody rose on hands and knees and hammered his cock into the round ass, the sound of their bodies smacking together drowning out the squeaking bed and Wesley’s moans. He fucked until his body glistened sweatily in the light, and it rained down on Wesley’s prone body. Then he rose to his knees and pulled Wesley up, getting him on hands and knees. He plunged back into his depths and began to fuck again. He fucked hard, too aroused to slow. He leaned over Wesley and encircled the neck, then pulled him upright. He held the lean body against his own, hammering cock into its depths. He ran a hand down the chest, over the undulating stomach, until he could grasp hard cock. He roughly stroked Wesley until ass pushed back on his cock then pushed forward, fucking cock through his fist. He leaned back arcing Wesley’s torso.

Wesley came first, crying out as his cock flexed with each ejacuation. Brody felt it, and stroked faster feeling Wesley shudder and jerk within his arms. Cum sprayed the bed, then dribbled out, and Brody smeared it along the cock as he kept stroking.

“Brody...please...stop...STOP,” Wesley pleaded, and Brody released the sensitive cock and pushed Wesley down on the bed, moving over him. His pace was furious, thrusting into Wesley until he couldn’t take it. His body felt feverish and muscles ached with his exertions. Then he shoved inward, all the way, and came.

The next morning they had to be out of the room by ten, and they lay in bed for as long as possible. They touched and kissed and fondled each other, laughing mischievously while making lurid taunts. And in moments of quiet, Brody would hold Wesley while they talked in a soft whisper. At five till ten, Brody lay their room key on the counter at the front desk, then the two of them headed out.

They went to the pier and walked out to its end. Looking out over the turquoise waters, they could feel the saltiness of it in the wind. They drove back into Pensacola, and strolled down Palafox, until at the end of it, looking out over the bay. By the time they got back to Government Street it was nearly one, and they slipped into a cafe for lunch. Despite not wanting the weekend to end, they finally drove over to I-110 and headed north.

Everyone saw it, a change in Brody and Wesley. They were more outgoing, more at ease, and it was surprising for some, especially the change in Wesley. There was less then five months until graduation, then there would be summer, and afterward, Wesley would leave for college. There were plans, some of which would have to change with the natural course of events, and there were hopes and dreams to be realized.

5 ½ Years Later

The frame for a second greenhouse was going up. To its left the first one was full of trays of seedlings, protected from the harshness of the summer sun and strong winds of thunderstorms. The greenhouses were positioned behind the barns, and in front of it all, the old O’Neil house that was now Brody’s. Franklin and he had decided to add acreage, and when the two hundred and sixty acre O’Neil place hit the market, including the eight acres with the old house and barns, they had jumped on it. Over the next year Brody renovated the house, going room to room, doing as much work himself as he could. It was still a work in progress, but the master bedroom and bath were complete, for it was important to Brody to have a home waiting for Wesley when he graduated back in May.

Wesley came out of the greenhouse, wiping his hands, and watched the last of the framing get erected for the second one. A three year old Dodge truck pulled down to where he stood. It was pulling a trailer, and secured on it was a small tractor perfect for the gardening operation Wesley intended to do in the plots behind the greenhouses.

“He made the deal, I see,” said Wesley as he approached Brody, who was climbing out of the truck.

“Yep. Got him down another five hundred.”

“Nice.”

“I see the greenhouse is coming along.”

“They should be done by five.”

“Perfect. Mom and dad want to cookout.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Who needs an occasion to cookout?” Brody replied, grinning. “Actually, Addison wanted to have it and invite Jacob over. We need to be there by six.”

“Okay.”

“And Wesley, your family is coming over too.”

Wesley smiled, trying to convince himself it was real. The normalcy of it. There had been a time it seemed impossible to comprehend. Now, it seemed like just another day.