The cafeteria hummed with the familiar drone of a hundred conversations and the clatter of trays on worn linoleum, but all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears. Todd Fairburn, my Todd, was leaning so far across the table toward Gary Sims that their heads were nearly touching. Their voices were low, a conspiratorial murmur that was a thousand times louder than the surrounding noise in my mind. The gymnastics team had been away for two days, at the state gymnastics tournament where Todd had medaled, and all I'd wanted was one normal lunch, to see his face, to hear him tell me he'd missed me as much as I missed him. Instead, I got this. This huddled, secret pow-wow that felt like a punch to the gut.
My tray felt heavy as I moved through the lunch line, my movements mechanical. I grabbed a wilted-looking salad and a baked potato wrapped in foil, my appetite completely gone but needing something to occupy my hands, a prop for the performance I was about to have to give. By the time I reached their table, Gary was pushing his chair back, the spell between them broken. "I'll be right back," he said to Todd, his expression unreadable as he stood and headed for the line. He nodded at me. “Hey, JD.”
I slid into the seat opposite Todd, forcing my lips into a smile that felt like cracking plaster. "Hi there," I managed, my voice tighter than I intended. "I missed you."
Todd's eyes, which had been following Gary, finally focused on me. They were the same warm brown I loved, but they seemed distant, clouded. "Hey, JD. I missed you, too. I swear, I thought about you every single minute, except when I was actually on the apparatus. Then I was just trying not to fall off and land on my face." He offered a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. His attention was already drifting, scanning the room.
Just then, Juan Rodriguez plopped his tray down next to us, the thud of his cafeteria pizza slice making me jump. He slapped Todd on the back, a resounding 'thwack' that made Todd wince. "Fairburn! You're back! Did you bring home the gold?"
"Silver, on the rings," Todd said, his voice regaining some of its usual energy. “And Gold on the horse.” He did the grin that told us he knew how talented he was. He started unwrapping the carefully packed sandwich his mom made him every day. "And you're going to die young if you keep eating that grease, Juan. That stuff will make you fat and kill you."
Juan laughed, taking a huge bite. "Please. My grandmother's tortillas have been trying to kill me with love and lard for sixteen years. I'm immune." He winked at me. "How's it going, JD?"
I just nodded, my fake smile feeling more brittle by the second. Our friend John arrived, dropping into the seat next to me with his usual easy grace. He took one look at my face, then at Todd's distracted expression, and his own smile faltered. "Whoa. What's with the long face, Bond? You look like someone just stole your dog."
"I don’t have a dog. I’m OK," I said, the lie tasting like ash in my mouth. "Just tired."
John wasn't buying it. He narrowed his eyes, looking from me to Todd. "Tired doesn't look like that. Tired looks like you fell asleep in history. This looks like... well, I don't know what this looks like."
Todd finally tore his gaze away from the cafeteria entrance, his brow furrowing with genuine concern. "JD? What's wrong? Seriously. You're not yourself." He leaned forward, his sandwich forgotten, his full attention finally, blessedly, on me. The knot in my stomach loosened, just a fraction.
That's when Gary returned; the salad on his tray looked sadder than mine. As he sat down, he and Todd exchanged a look. It was quick, almost imperceptible, but it was there, a look of shared gravity, of a heavy secret passing between them. And just like that, the knot in my stomach tightened into a cold, hard stone of jealousy. My breath hitched. I knew it. I knew they were talking about something that didn't include me, something important.
John saw it, too. His eyes darted between the two of them. "Okay, that's it," he said, his voice losing its playful edge. He pointed his fork at Gary. "Spill it, Sims. What's going on? You two have been acting weird since I sat down."
Gary's face, already pale, went completely white. He stared down at his salad, suddenly fascinated by the ranch dressing. "Nothing, man. Just... stuff."
"Don't give me that 'stuff' crap," John pressed, his tone firm but not unkind. "Something's going on, and we're your friends. We can't help if we don't know what it is."
Gary took a shaky breath and looked at Todd, who gave him a slight, encouraging nod. The whole table went silent, even Juan stopped chewing. "Okay," Gary whispered, his voice cracking, his eyes growing moist. "Okay. My girlfriend... Celeste, back in Colorado... she's pregnant. We used protection, but…"
Juan’s face was serious. “It’s not one hundred percent.”
The word hung in the air, sucking all the other noise out of the cafeteria. I stared at him, my own petty insecurities evaporating in the face of his raw fear.
"She took a test," he continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. "So, she’s sure. She told me, and I told her that we have to tell our parents. Well, she told her parents, and they... they told her she has to get an abortion or get out of the house. So,” he took a breath. “She’s on her way here. She took a bus. She's due to arrive here tomorrow. I haven't told my parents, yet. I was too scared. I told Todd this morning, right when we got back, and I just... I don't know what to do."
Todd spoke, his voice steady and calm. "We talked it through, and the first step has to be telling his parents. Tonight. No matter what, they need to know. Then the four of them can figure it out, whether keeping the baby or adoption. It’s up to Gary and Celeste, but I think he should really listen to his parents. They’re older and can think about things that we haven’t thought about. Gary’s hoping... he's hoping they'll let Celeste stay with them, at least until the baby comes."
“I don’t want to give the baby away.” A tear fell down Gary’s face.
Juan was the first to break the silence. He put his pizza down. "Hermano, that's... that's heavy. But you're right. You gotta tell your folks. You can't hide something like that. They'll be shocked, yeah, but they're your parents. They'll help."
“Celeste’s parents didn’t.”
“Ummm,” John began. “Maybe they thought they were. By giving her that choice, maybe they thought she’d choose abortion. Maybe that’s what they think is best, but they were trying to let her think she was in control.”
“Kind of makes sense,” said Todd. “Like when your mom says, ‘Do you want to wear the pretty blue tie that matches your shirt or this ugly red one. And of course you pick the blue one. It’s the way grown-ups manipulate kids, but the kids don’t realize it because they had a choice.”
“What if my parents want us to kill the baby?” said Gary, his eye now red and swollen.
And in that moment, I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. All that paranoia, all that gut-wrenching jealousy, and it was for this. My friend was terrified, facing a life-altering crisis, and all I could think about was myself. A hot wave of shame washed over me, and my eyes filled with tears. I tried to blink them back, but one escaped, tracing a hot, humiliating path down my cheek.
Gary saw it. His own pain seemed to take a backseat for a second as he looked at me with genuine sympathy. "Hey, JD, it's okay. Really. I don’t want you to be upset. This is my problem; I want your advice." He forced a smile. His concern for me, when his own world was falling apart, just made me feel a thousand times worse.
John leaned in. "JD, you alright? You need to go see the nurse?"
"No," I mumbled, swiping at my face with the back of my hand. I picked up my fork and stabbed at my baked potato, needing to do something normal. "I'm fine. It’s just that Gary is such a sweet guy that I hate seeing him go through this. The only thing I have to add is that maybe your parents will want you to keep the baby. You don’t know until you tell them. Sometimes we let ourselves get upset and worry about things that never even happen."
Todd reached across the table, his warm hand covering mine. "He's not fine," he said softly, his eyes locked on mine. "He needs a big hug and to be reminded that I love him."
I looked up, and the love I saw in his eyes was so real, so focused, it almost broke me all over again.
Before I could say anything, Gary moved his hand and placed it gently on top of Todd's. "All for one," he said, his voice thick with emotion, and he shot a defiant glare at John, as if daring him to make a joke.
John didn't hesitate. He moved his hand and placed it on top of the pile. "One for all."
"Ain't that cute," a sneering voice cut through our moment. Russell Bufford stood over our table, a cruel smirk on his face. "Holding hands. What a little support group."
"Fuck off, Russel," Todd said, his voice flat and dangerous.
Russell ignored him completely, his gaze shifting to Juan. "Why ain't you holding hands with your friends, Rodriguez? You not part of the club?"
Juan didn't even look up from his pizza. "I ain't a Mouseketeer," he said, deadpan.
John let out a sharp, surprised snort of laughter.
It was apparent Russell didn't get the joke. His smirk faltered, replaced by a confused scowl. "Whatever," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and shuffling away.
"Good save," John told Gary, relief evident in his voice.
"I saw him coming," Gary admitted, letting out a shaky breath. "It was the fastest thing I could think of."
John turned to Juan, grinning. "It's Musketeer, by the way. Like a musket gun."
"The asshole doesn't know the difference," Juan said, finally looking up. "Did you see that look he gave? Like he was trying to spell it with his face."
A real smile finally broke through on my face. The rest of them laughed, the tension broken.
Todd squeezed my hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles. "Finish your lunch, Mr. Bond," he said, his voice a low, intimate rumble that was just for me. "I've got something to show you."
The promise in his voice, low and private, sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cafeteria's faulty air conditioning. My appetite, which had been a complete no-show, suddenly returned with a vengeance. I shoveled a forkful of potato into my mouth, barely tasting it, my eyes locked on his. He had that look, the one that meant he was proud of something, that he had a secret that was just for me.
"What is it?" I asked around my mouthful.
"You'll see," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. He finished his sandwich in three quick bites, crumpled the wax paper into a tight ball, and shot it like a basketball into the nearby trash can. It swished through perfectly. "And that, ladies and gentlemen," he announced to our table, "is why I medaled."
Gary managed a weak smile, the first genuine one since he'd sat down. "Nice shot, man."
“Too bad you’re a gymnast and not a basketball player. I was expecting two gold medals from you,” added Juan. “I’m disappointed.”
“Next time you have a no-hitter, you may express an opinion. Let's go," Todd said, standing up and grabbing my tray along with his. "We'll catch you guys later."
As we navigated through the crowded cafeteria. I felt more stares than usual, but for the first time all day, I didn't care. All I could feel was the solid warmth inside me that was kindled by his smile, a silent reassurance that washed away the last of my stupid, jealous fears. He led me out of the double doors and down the main hall, his steps quick and purposeful.
"So, the tournament," I said, trying to sound casual. "Tell me everything. Was the competition tough? Did you stick your dismount?"
"Stuck it cold," he said, his voice brimming with pride. "But that's not what I want to show you." He stopped at his athletic locker, spun the combination with practiced ease, and pulled out his gym bag. Instead of digging for a book, he unzipped a small side pocket and pulled out a flat, rectangular box wrapped in plain brown paper. He handed it to me. "Open it."
My fingers trembled slightly as I tore the paper. Inside was a simple black frame. And in the frame was a photograph. It was Todd. He was waiting his turn for the pommel horse and looking slightly up. The photo captured a look that I had seen when he was looking at me and telling me how much he loved me.
"John took it and showed it to me." Todd said softly, his eyes on my face. "He said I look like that when I look at you. I got it framed so you would always have me around even when I’m away.”
I looked from the photo to him, my throat tight. "It's... wow, Todd. You look..."
His voice was thick with emotion. "Like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. That's how I feel when I'm competing, knowing you're watching. It's like I have my own personal good luck charm."
He took the frame from my hands and set it carefully in his locker. Then he stepped closer, his hands coming up to cup my face. "I'm sorry I was so distracted at lunch. Gary's a mess, and I was trying to figure out how to help him. But it had nothing to do with us. There is no 'us and them.' There's just you and me. Always."
I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes. "I know," I whispered. "I was an idiot. I thought... I don't know what I thought."
"I know what you thought," he said, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. "And I'm going to spend the rest of the day, and probably the rest of the week, convincing you that you're the only one I want to have hushed conversations with in a cafeteria."
He leaned in and kissed me, a soft, lingering kiss that tasted of promises and forgiveness and the ham and swiss from his sandwich. It was just us in the empty hallway, the sounds of the school fading into a distant hum. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.
"Now," he said, his voice a low murmur. "We have to go to class. But I'm thinking that tonight, you and me should go get some real pizza, the kind that won't kill Juan, and you can tell me all about how boring school was without me."
I laughed, a real, honest laugh that felt like it was cleaning out my insides. "It was very boring. And the cafeteria food was terrible."
"See?" he said, grinning as he picked up the framed photo and pressed it back into my hands. "We have so much to catch up on." He gave me one last quick kiss before turning and jogging toward his classroom. I stood there for a moment, clutching the frame, looking at the boy in the picture who was so completely in love. And for the first time all day, I felt exactly like him.
The final whistle blew, a shrill cry that echoed inside the gymnasium that had begun to show signs of homecoming decorations. I could see that Todd felt it in every muscle, a deep, satisfying ache that spoke of an hour of drills to smooth out the bobble he had on the rings during the previous competition. Coach was hoping Todd would get three top spots in the next meet. JD watched as Todd peeled his sweat-soaked jersey off, the damp cotton clinging to his back, and ran a hand through his hair, which was damp and matted with perspiration. JD was hoping that Todd showered quickly so he could smell his nice clean skin as they drew pleasure from one another.
Todd found me still in the stands, leaning against the seats behind me. Even from that distance, I could sense Todd’s powerful frame radiating heat. I was naturally shaped like an athlete, but Todd built his body through work.
I gave Todd enough time to shower and change and then wandered down next to the locker room exit. “I bet you’re sore after that workout,” I said as Todd came into the hall.
"You have no idea," Todd groaned, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. "All I can think about is getting back to the farmhouse, cranking the AC, and you." He let the last word hang in the air, a promise of the afternoon they had planned.
My grin widened. "I like the sound of that. Let's go."
We walked in comfortable silence to Todd's old sedan, the heat radiating from the asphalt in shimmering waves. Todd tossed iyr bags in the trunk and climbed into the driver's seat, the vinyl sticking to his bare legs. He’d worn loose shorts to make it easier to remove them once they were in the house. He was just about to turn the key when his phone buzzed in the center console. It was a text from his mom.
Hey honey, I know you just finished practice, but I need you to run a few errands for me. Can you pick up my prescription at the pharmacy, grab a bag of chicken feed at Tractor Supply, and drop it off at Grandma's? Thanks! Love you!
Todd read the message, a wave of frustration washing over him. "You have got to be kidding me," he muttered, showing the phone to me.
I leaned over, his shoulder pressing against Todd's, his eyes scanning the screen. "Well, damn," I said, his voice laced with disappointment. "So much for the farmhouse, but hey, it’s your grandma."
"And her chickens. I'm so sorry, man," Todd said, his shoulders slumping. "I can take you home first, but..."
"But the afternoon's plans have gone awry," I finished for him. "It's okay. I get it."
The drive to my house was quiet, the air thick with unspoken disappointment. The AC in Todd's car functioned as if it were trying to cool a 2000 square foot building. Though barely making any noise, it pushed out ice cold air that could have formed icicles. I watched the familiar landmarks pass by, my mind racing, trying to figure out a way to salvage their afternoon. I couldn't just let Todd go, not like this. The need for him was a physical ache, a hunger that gnawed at his insides.
As we approached the edge of town, a large, red-and-white sign came into view: Tractor Supply. Todd pulled in, but he drove past the main entrance, navigating the car toward the far side of the building, where stacks of large, black galvanized watering troughs were piled high, creating a makeshift wall. He parked the car behind them, effectively shielding it from view of the store and the road.
"What are you doing?" I asked, turning to him with a confused expression.
Todd killed the engine, the sudden silence broken only by the sound of their breathing. He turned to JD, his eyes dark with a renewed hunger. "I'm not ready for this day to be over," he said, his voice low and husky. "And I know you're not either."
Without waiting for a response, Todd scrambled over the center console and into the back seat. The space was larger than it appeared, and I smiled at the thought. Todd lay on his side, facing the back of the car, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his athletic shorts. He peeled them down, along with his jockstrap, exposing his ass, the pale skin already flushed with anticipation.
He looked over his shoulder at me; I was still in the front seat, my eyes wide with a mixture of shock and raw desire. "Well?" Todd asked, a challenge in his voice. "Are you coming?"
I didn't need to be asked twice. I practically dove over the console, my movements clumsy in the confined space, but my intent was clear. I landed in the back seat beside Todd, I immediately pressed my body against Todd's, his heat a welcome contrast to the sticky vinyl of the seat.
Their lips met in a desperate, hungry kiss. It wasn't gentle or sweet; it was a clash of teeth and tongues, a frantic expression of their mutual need. My hands roamed over Todd's body, his touch possessive and demanding. I gripped Todd's ass, his fingers digging into the firm flesh, pulling him closer.
"I've been thinking about this all day," I growled, my voice thick with lust.
"Me too," Todd gasped, his hands fumbling with the button on my jeans. "Now shut up and fuck me."
I needed no further encouragement. I pushed my jeans and boxers down to my knees, freeing my already rock-hard cock. It was, as Todd had so aptly named it, a monster—long, thick, and beautifully proportioned, with a prominent vein that ran along the underside. Todd's mouth watered at the sight of it.
I spat into his hand, the sound loud in the quiet confines of the truck. He coated his cock with saliva, the glistening head already beading with pre-cum. He positioned himself behind Todd, one hand on Todd's hip, the other guiding his cock toward Todd's waiting entrance.
"Ready?" I asked, my voice a low rumble.
"Hell, yes," Todd breathed, bracing himself against the back of the seat.
I pushed forward, the blunt head of my cock breaching the tight ring of muscle. Todd groaned, a mixture of pleasure and pain as he was stretched to his limits. It was a feeling he craved, a feeling he had been dreaming about all through practice.
"Fuck," Todd gasped, his knuckles white as he gripped the seat. "I missed this. I missed your monster."
I chuckled, a low, guttural sound. "Don't worry," I said, my voice thick with satisfaction. "He’s going to make sure you remember him always."
I pushed deeper, sinking inch by inch into Todd's tight heat. “You’re splitting me in two. Oh, shit, have you grown since last time?”
When I was finally buried to the hilt, I paused, allowing Todd to adjust to my impressive size. "You okay?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.
"More than okay," Todd managed to say, his voice hoarse. "Just... move. Please."
I began to thrust, my movements slow and deliberate at first, each one a deep, powerful stroke that sent a jolt of electricity through Todd's entire body. The truck rocked gently with our movements, the springs creaking in protest.
"Fuck yeah," Todd moaned, his head thrown back. "Just like that."
My pace quickened, my thrusts becoming harder, more demanding. I was a man possessed, my body a piston of pure, unadulterated lust. The air in the truck grew thick with the sounds of our lovemaking, the slap of skin on skin, our ragged breaths, our guttural moans of pleasure.
"You feel so good," I growled, my hands gripping Todd's hips, pulling him back to meet each thrust. "So fucking tight."
"Don't stop," Todd begged, his body lost in a haze of pleasure. "Please, don't stop."
I obliged, my thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. I was close, I could feel it in the tension in my body, in the way my breathing grew ragged and harsh. But Todd wasn't ready for it to end. He wanted to draw it out, to savor every last second of our illicit encounter.
He clenched his muscles around my cock, a deliberate, calculated squeeze that made me cry out in surprise. The added stimulation was all it took. With a loud groan, I felt Todd's own release wash over him, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself onto his own abs, the warm, sticky fluid a testament to his pleasure.
I kept fucking him, my thrusts becoming more frantic as I chased my own release. I rode Todd hard, my body a blur of motion, until, with a final, powerful thrust, I found my own climax. I buried myself deep inside Todd, my hot seed flooding his insides, a warm, intimate reminder of our shared passion.
I collapsed on top of Todd, my body a heavy, welcome weight. We lay there for a long moment, our bodies tangled together, our hearts beating in a frantic, synchronized rhythm. The only sound in the car was our ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic on the highway.
Eventually, I pushed myself up, my muscles protesting. I maneuvered to kiss Todd, my lips finding his in a slow, tender kiss. As I shifted my weight, my cock slipped out of Todd's well-used hole, and a copious amount of cum followed, squirting out onto the worn floor mats with a wet, raspberry-like sound that made both of us burst into breathless, exhausted laughter. The sound was lewd and ridiculous in the quiet aftermath of our passion, a perfect punctuation mark to our frantic, stolen moment.
I chuckled, my voice a low, rumbling vibration against Todd's back. "Did the whole damn team just fall out of you?"
Todd laughed, his body shaking with mirth. He could feel the warm, wet evidence of my release trickling down his thigh. "Felt like it was in there. You always unload like a fire hose." He twisted his head, capturing my lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, and filled with a lazy, sated affection. The frantic desperation had been replaced by a warm, glowing contentment.
We lay together for a few more minutes, the cramped back seat of the truck suddenly feeling like the most comfortable place on earth. The cool air from the AC vents washed over our sweat-slicked bodies, a welcome relief. My hand traced lazy circles on Todd's hip, my touch gentle and possessive.
"We're a mess," Todd murmured, his voice soft. "And my seats are never going to be the same."
"Worth it," I rumbled, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Todd's neck. "Totally worth it."
Reluctantly, we began to detangle ourselves. It was an awkward process in the confined space, a clumsy dance of elbows and knees. I managed to pull my jeans back up, the denim rough against my sensitive skin. Todd reached for some paper napkins that were discarded on the floorboards. He used them to wipe the cum from his stomach and the mess from the floor mats, a makeshift cleanup that would have to suffice.
As Todd pulled his shorts back on, the reality of our situation began to creep back in. The sun was lower in the sky, casting longer shadows across the parking lot. His mother's list of errands loomed in his mind, a stark contrast to the blissful haze he'd been floating in.
He slid back into the front seat, and that’s when he noticed the figure standing just outside the car. “Oh, shit.”
His expletive made me look up as I tried to maneuver into the passenger seat. Todd’s father was standing next to the driver’s side front fender.
“Fuck,” I growled.
Todd looked over at me. I watched him, a knowing look in my whiskey-colored eyes. "Time to face the music, huh?"
Todd sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. He opened the car door. “Hey, Dad.”
“I guess it’s time we had a talk,” said his father in a rather calm voice. “I’ll take your friend, John, right?”
"No, this is James Bond.”
Todd’s father’s face registered incredulity.
“People call me JD, sir. My name’s James Daniel Bond.”
“Well, James Daniel Bond. I’ll take you home while Todd Alexander Fairburn gets the chicken feed for his grandmother.”
I got out of the car. “Don’t forget to stop by the pharmacy,” I said to Todd.
“To get strychnine?” he said.
“Don’t be a drama queen,” replied his father.
I laughed. Todd looked appalled. His father simply said, “Get in the car, JD.”
I climbed into Mr. Fairburn’s car and watched Todd pull away and wondered whether Mr. Fairburn was going to take me home or to the train station.*
*For those who are unaware, in the TV series “Yellowstone,” the train station is where they take people who are never seen again.
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