1.
The miles slipped by as the sun became low enough in the west the visor couldn’t keep it out of Joshua’s eyes. He was driving southwest down I-65 and would face the sun until he either got to his exit or the sun finally dropped below the horizon. Looking at the time, he wasn’t sure which would occur first.
He had left early that morning before rush hour in Raleigh and before sunrise. It hadn’t been early enough to avoid the traffic around Charlotte, but eventually he passed the city and onto open interstate, at least it was open until he got to the road construction at Spartanburg that he had to endure all the way to Greenville. Once past the construction and into Georgia, he motored along with the traffic, his mind going from the traffic to the reason he was going home.
He had been expecting the phone call for the last five weeks. The daily updates from his grandmother and father informing him of his grandfather’s condition. A bout of pneumonia the stubborn old fool refused to take seriously turned worse, putting him in the hospital. Joshua didn’t know how to feel about it, how each phone call seemed to be worse than the one before. The spiking fevers, the dementia, then the refusal to eat and deterioration of a body already in its late eighties.
He knew it had to be tough on his father, someone who had endured the old man’s belligerence. The two of them had to work together on the farm where nothing was ever good enough or done right for Chester Elias Ellison. The man could be so cruel in how he spoke to his grandmother and to his father. Joshua often wondered if that had more to do than the changing economics of middle-sized farms, the reason his father pushed him to go to college for anything other than farming.
How his grandmother tolerated it, Joshua had no idea. But as of 7:10 P.M. the day before, neither she nor his father would have to endure it any longer. He thought of the conversations with his mother, how she tolerated Chester’s presence at family gatherings, but otherwise avoided him, something his father encouraged.
Exit 142: Fort Deposit and Logan. 1 mile.
Joshua passed the familiar exit, as all along this stretch of interstate were. His four years at college had him traveling the interstate often, then after graduation and getting his first job in Greenville, South Carolina, and two years ago, taking the job in Raleigh, he traveled the interstate at least once a year. He thought of all the reasons he had travelled in the past. There was the usual holiday season, a family reunion in Monroeville four years ago, the first since his last year in college, and the summer fishing trip with his dad and a cousin over in Louisiana last year. Then there were the big events. His sister’s wedding, then having the two boys barely eighteen months apart. There were other weddings of cousins and friends from high school, and the tragic death of a classmate from a car wreck. Events that made the long drive take on different characteristics. Some allowed him to meditate, processing some event that had occurred. Some trips seemed to pass quickly, others a journey to be endured. Such as this one, a journey to suffer all the memories of his grandfather and how he treated everyone. How was one supposed to feel. Sadness? A great loss? He felt neither. Instead, it was a relief, one for his grandmother and father.
There was going to be a visitation at the funeral home, then the funeral itself to get through, then he could finally relax and just spend time with his family.
Exit 130: Greenville. 1 mile.
Joshua thought of high school, something other than his grandfather and the funeral in two days. He pictured that last day of classes, how everyone was so celebratory. He thought of his friends, and as always, Brandon Ryan Taylor came to mind. Brandon had been his best friend in middle and high school. They both loved to read and enjoyed movies. It was music where they differed, Brandon holding to country music influences that were prevalent within their school, while he looked more toward the alternative rock and some of the electronic genres. They shared a love of science and mythology and old religions that influenced the horror and science fiction movies and books they enjoyed. They had not been athletic, neither caring about any of the team sports within the school, and to their classmates they were just average in so many ways, but they had been different in a manner that separated them from most. Brandon defied norms of dress, having longer than normal hair and wore clothing that hadn’t been in fashion for decades. I was born in the wrong decade Brandon would quip when asked about some leather vest or tight-fitting stripped pants. He wore round glasses, at times skinny ties, and various styles of boots, a favorite being an old pair of Doc Martens. Joshua knew if Brandon had been in Atlanta or Los Angeles or Portland, he would not have stood out, but in Molino, he was a true anomaly.
Joshua had been an anomaly too, but not in any visual sense. He had been gay, closeted from everyone, including Brandon. It was one thing to read of teens coming out in cities, of having support groups and activities, and openly dating, even going to their proms, but something entirely different for a teen in a small conservative community, made up mostly of farms.
After graduation, Brandon and he left the community for college, both swearing never to return except to visit family. They were going to live in some big city, an urban environment that would provide a lifestyle they both desired. Brandon had gone to some college in south Florida and they began to drift apart. A couple of years after graduation, Brandon was in Atlanta and he was in Greenville, only two hours apart, but it might as well have been two days apart. For him, it was an internship with a low wage. He couldn’t afford to travel much and was so focused on getting through his internship, he never tried to reconnect with Brandon. He knew it was similar for Brandon, but there had also been some disappointment within Brandon for Atlanta had not been his first choice of locale. Three years later, Brandon’s telephone number no longer worked, and a Christmas card came back stamped undeliverable.
Joshua had no idea what happened, but a few months later his mother mentioned seeing Brandon’s mother in the grocery store, saying Brandon was teaching English at University of West Florida.
Brandon had returned to the area despite swearing never to do so. Joshua had no idea what happened or how Brandon must feel about it. He knew it could be so easy to move back if things got bad all of a sudden. What if he lost his job and had trouble finding one. It wouldn’t take long for him to be desperate. He didn’t have much saved up, especially to live on without a job.
Exit 114: Georgiana and Starlington. ½ mile.
Joshua noticed the exit sign at the last second and quickly recounted the next exits before he got to the one for Brewton. Grace and Garland were next, then the exits for Evergreen. He was getting close to his exit.
What if he had come out in high school. He had often considered it, sometimes fantasizing what it could have been like. Most of his classmates accepting, and Brandon telling him it didn’t matter, they were still friends. And when he was really pushing the fantasy, Brandon or one of the other guys in his class would come out gay too, and they would date, go to the prom together, and they would explore their sexuality. Of course, none of that happened, instead he showed up on campus a virgin fighting the urge to just stay closeted. But one of the guys on the floor came out, then there were the two guys on the floor below, and it seemed so easy. So easy, he came out the following weekend, first to his roommate, then to others on the floor.
It was odd how things worked out afterward. A guy in his English class asked him out and soon he was dating and having sex and hanging out with others who were gay. Someone had told him after graduating high school, college would be the most important time of his life. It would be when he truly found himself, and it had been true.
Exit 101: Owassa.
He was upon the exit, having not noticed the signs for it until at the one with the arrow indicating the ramp off the interstate was near. He looked at the bridge spanning the four lanes and the ramps, seeing if they were clear. As he went under the bridge, he looked over to see if the on-ramp was clear, not wanting to speed past a State Trooper. He knew the place to really look was around the Evergreen exits because one of the State Trooper stations was located there.
What if Brandon had been gay. It was something he had fantasized about all through high school. He had looked for any sign it could be true, despite having done everything in his power to conceal himself. It had been such a fantasy, one that embarrassed him to think of it all these years later. Ten years since graduation, and nothing was as either of them imagined it.
He let his mind drift to all the times Brandon and he had spent together. The movie theaters watching some latest release then hanging out at each other’s homes, playing video games or imagining some Sci-Fi novel or script. Brandon wanted to be a director, and they spent many an evening outlining some storyline for a science fiction flick. Occasionally they would come up with some horror storyline, something that made them howl with laughter at the silliness of their ideas. Some had been outlandishly bad, but a few really had potential, or their teenage selves thought so. What happened to those story outlines he wondered as he pictured Brandon putting their brainstorming notes into a notebook and sliding it on the shelf over his desk.
He had tossed out an idea one night during their senior year that in hindsight was an attempt to bring up the subject in a more personal way. What about a world where the people are sexless until they decide it is time to take a partner and their bodies transition to the sex desired to make the relationship happen. At first, Brandon had dismissed the idea, instead outlining an idea of a dystopian future where the last survivors on earth are trying to escape it. They created an outline of the time frame, created major characters, laughing at some of their suggestions. At some point, Brandon returned to his idea, asking how the people would look when sexless.
Androgynous, of course, he had replied.
How would they determine who would be male and who would be female? Brandon asked sometime later.
Maybe they wouldn’t be male and female. Or maybe they would be both. I don’t know, Joshua had replied, and he knew how close to the real issue he had really wanted to talk about.
They could all be…male and gay? Brandon had asked and Joshua could still hear the tone, one that sound displeased with the suggestion. He had brought up Le Guin’s Left Hand of Darkness and Brandon had sat up and replied, see, a version of the idea has been done before, ending further talk of the idea.
Joshua had never dared get close to the subject again until that summer after graduation. They had gone to Fort Pickens to camp out. He remembered how it had been so hot, the temperatures not dropping until late in the night, leaving them sweating in the tent most of it. He remembered the burned hot dog wienies and the burgers that had seemed better than any before for they had been starving by the time they got the coals burned down in the grill. They had gotten sunburned the first day and hung out on the pier late at night watching those fishing from it pulling in small flounder, a couple of Spanish mackerel, and a small sand shark that took three people to unhook it and release it back into the bay. And he remembered sitting at the picnic table at their camp site and Brandon asking him why he never asked anyone out, that Denise and Tina had both shown interest.
His reply had been on the tip of his tongue. The opportunity to confess had been before him and he fucked it up, giving a lame excuse for not pursuing either of them. He had regretted it, and ten years later, still felt that regret.
Exit 77: Brewton and Repton. 1 mile.
“Damn,” Joshua uttered to himself, realizing he had drove past the exits for Evergreen and Castleberry without paying attention and the exit he needed was right before him. If he had kept daydreaming about the past too intensely, he would have driven past it.
When the ramp came into view, he slowed, then eased off the interstate feeling like he was close to home, despite having forty-five minutes of travel time left to do.
2.
Joshua moved from the grave, acknowledging each person who spoke. He glanced back at his grandmother, stoic as always, patiently greeting each person who lined up to say something. Next to her was his parents and he saw the same stoicism. The same sense of doing one’s duty. He had asked his father why they didn’t just do a private burial and skip the funeral viewing and service.
Your grandmother said it was the right thing to do.
So, they had the viewing, the service in the funeral home’s chapel, then paraded the body back to the cemetery where they had to have one more brief service before it was finished. As he walked toward the preacher to slip him the check his mother had giving him that morning, he saw Brandon standing at the periphery of everyone.
“Rev. Edwards, thanks for everything,” said Joshua, slipping him the check.
“Thanks, Joshua. How have you been? Your grandmother said you were in Raleigh, North Carolina.”
“That’s right. Two years now.”
“Wow, has it been that long.”
“Yes, sir,” said Joshua. From the corner of his eye, he saw Brandon moving toward the line of cars in the central drive. “If you’ll excuse me, there is someone I want to speak to before they leave.”
“Of course,” said Rev. Edwards.
Joshua rushed toward Brandon, ignoring the three people who called out to him. He came into the drive moving past the parked sedans, SUVs and trucks as Brandon got to a Honda Accord, unlocking the door.
“Brandon! Wait up,” exclaimed Joshua as loud as he dared.
Brandon looked up and for a moment it looked like he was disappointed at being stopped, then he smiled, as Joshua came up to him.
“Hey, Josh.”
“Hey, man, it’s been too long.”
“It has.”
“I hear your teaching at West Florida. Is that right?”
“Yes. Are you still in Greenville?”
“No, I took a job in Raleigh two years ago.”
“Oh, wow, I hadn’t heard.”
“Listen, I need to go back to grandmother’s and entertain all those that she invited, but I’m here for a few days. Let’s get together.”
It looked as if Brandon might say no, but he smiled and nodded. “I don’t have your cell phone number. Lost it when my phone got messed up.”
“Give me your number and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
3.
Brandon drove out of the cemetery feeling like he had when he had moved from Atlanta, tossing out everything of his old life, one full of disappointments and perceived failures. He pictured his cell phone flying through the air as he crossed the Chattahoochee River when driving back. It had been a desperate measure to put everything of his life up to that point behind him. He was starting over, having gotten a teaching position at West Florida. As he drove down the narrow road, the lines nearly faded and worn away, he knew he had gone too far, cut people out of his life that had meant so much to him. None more so than Joshua. The one person who would have understood the most, but the one person he couldn’t face.
He had pretended to be shocked when his mother told him Joshua had come out as gay. She talked of the family being shocked, and how some in the community viewed it as some great sin. ‘What do you think about it’ he had asked her. Her reply surprised him. ‘He should live the life he wants and ignore those who denigrate him.’
He had been so torn at the time. He was dating Melissa, a graphic artist his company hired to helped them with the commercials they were shooting. The job had been as close as he would get to being behind a camera, and eventually that realization would dawn on him and he would seek another job, one outside the industry. It took him back home, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. Was it a defeat or was it regrouping, a way to get his life back on track.
The easiest part had been breaking up with Melissa. Despite his best efforts, he could never make a relationship work. He felt an attraction to each one. Physical attractions that had been enough at first but eventually, revealed as lacking. In college he had dared try with one of the guys in the dorm. A guy a year older, from Connecticut and from old money. And openly gay. During one of the afternoon thunderstorms that rumbled through nearly every day in spring, he found himself in the guy’s bed. If only he had been able to relax, stop fretting what others would say, maybe he would have realized what it meant for him.
He turned on Molino Road and eased back to speed. He glanced in the rearview mirror, then turned his eyes back to the road as he thought of his life. In high school he had planned a life as a movie director, someone making movies that entertained and enthralled audiences. Joshua had encouraged him, even brainstorming ideas for movies. It had been a time of such hope, and he wondered if he would ever get it back.
He passed Charlie’s, a dive bar by every measure. He had to smile because he couldn’t believe the place was still there. A new paint color, a garish orange over dark red with a black band separating them, and in the window an American flag, hung incorrectly. At least it didn’t have that man’s name smeared across it. A short distance and he veered off on McKinnonville Road, a short cut to Brickyard Road. The narrow-unmarked road curved through the woods, passing only a couple of houses before coming to the stop sign. Only two more turns and he would be at his parents’ place. His mom called that morning telling him to come by after the funeral for dinner.
Along the last section of road, he thought of Joshua and how he was openly gay. He felt jealous of it, because Joshua probably had a boyfriend back in Raleigh, or maybe a partner, someone he was going to share the rest of his life. He saw the Joshua who had stopped him in the cemetery, a twenty-nine-year-old man, a body filled out, the face still boyish, and the blue eyes still full of life. The dirty blonde hair was darker and cut shorter, close on the sides. Then he pictured the teenager, the one he camped with at Fort Pickens. He had thought of their time in that primitive camp site, sleeping in a tent, or trying to for it had been unbearably hot. The skinny boy with tousled hair long enough on top, it concealed the blue eyes. The boy who, in hindsight, had been trying to tell him something, just as Joshua had done so the night they were brainstorming ideas, and had suggested a storyline about sexless people. People who were androgynous, not taking a male or female form until they needed to for procreation.
Brandon had thought about that night at Fort Pickens often over the following years. He had been tempted to broach the subject in some manner he could blow off if Joshua had been unwilling. He got Joshua drunk enough but could never get the courage to try something with him. Would anything been different or would it have ended their friendship sooner. For a long time, he thought Joshua would have been the one who would have ended it, but when he heard of Joshua coming out gay, he knew he had been the one, for he wasn’t ready to pursue some relationship with another male, not even the person he felt the closest. If they had done something and Joshua then pushed for more, he would have been the one to make a final rejection.
Either way, he felt like the one who messed up. He was the one to end their friendship, the one who broke off all communications. The one who knew, if given a chance, that life wasn’t so simple as some made it out to be, and the life he wanted was anything but simple.
Brandon turned into the drive, parking behind his mother’s SUV. He could see the television through the living room window and knew his dad was watching the Atlanta Braves play. He shut off the engine and headed inside, putting on the mask he had been wearing for what seemed like his whole life.
4.
Brandon’s phone informed him of a message. He rolled over, stretched, wondering what time it was. He looked at how the sunlight angled through the window. He assumed it was nearly ten o’clock and a glance at his watch showed he was only ten minutes off. He reached for his cell phone and saw it was from Joshua.
Hey, you want to drive down to the beach and grab lunch at Peg Leg Pete’s. My treat.
Brandon smiled. The seafood restaurant was probably near getting landmark status on Pensacola Beach. It had been there for years and was a cliche of a coastal seafood restaurant, right down to the pirate theme. He wanted to reply that he was busy, but deep down he wanted to see Joshua again.
Sure. What time?
Joshua’s reply seemed instantaneous, telling him to expect him at noon and to send him his address. Brandon sent Joshua his address, then headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
The sound of driving over control joints in the concrete bridge was a rhythm more steady than the rock song playing softly over the radio. Stretching out from both sides of the bridge, Pensacola Bay was a nearly flat expanse the surface reflecting the sun. About halfway across they drove past the arched structure supporting the highest section of the bridge.
“I still can’t used to those arches being on the sides of the bridge,” said Joshua.
“I think this is only the third time I crossed it.”
“Really?”
“I’m up at the university during the week and on weekends…I just don’t do much.”
“I know what you mean. I took my first real vacation time a few months ago and it was just a few days in the mountains.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Five days hiking a section of the AT; it was great.”
“Backpacking? I doubt I could last a day.”
They drove down the bridge, coming off into Gulf Breeze, and Joshua checked his speed, knowing the enforcement was strict.
“It was tough, wasn’t it,” said Brandon.
“What was tough?”
“The funeral.”
“Not really, although dad and I would have just done a burial. Grandmother thought we had to have a funeral. She told dad it was the right thing to do.”
“Had he gotten any better in the last few years?”
“Not really but getting old did slow him.”
Joshua drove by the school, moving into the right lane prepared to turn on Pensacola Beach Road, and one more bridge to get to the barrier island. The bridge was modest compared to the bay bridge, its rise gentler and the road narrower and a fraction of the length.
As they came to the toll road gate, Joshua eased into one of the lanes glad the days of having to stop and pay the toll was a thing of the past. He drove through the gateway where his tag would be read. He wondered if the bill for the toll would be waiting on him when he got back to Greenville.
“Doesn’t look much different,” said Joshua.
“Every time they get built up a hurricane comes along and tears a good bit of it out.”
“Building on this island really is foolish.”
“Yep.”
As the road curved to the left, Joshua slowed to turn on Fort Pickens Road, to head west on the island. He drove past the large parking lots for the beach and around the sweeping curve before the road straightened to run down the narrow island.
“Almost there,” said Brandon.
“I hope it isn’t too busy.”
Brandon slid into the narrow booth opposite Joshua and picked up the menu. He suddenly felt anxious, because he expected Joshua to ask about his life over the last few years. He didn’t know if he was ready to talk about it. He knew it looked like a failure, especially to Joshua who knew his dream of being a director. It had been something he really wanted in high school, but once out of college and working for that advertising company, he realized he didn’t have it in him to pursue the profession. He wasn’t prepared to live such a life, fighting to get funding for every movie, then waiting to see if the public liked the fruit of his and many others labors.
His move wasn’t some crawling back as a loser, it was a move to give him time. The teaching gig at the university gave him an income and let him do the research he needed to do for what he was working on. He wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about it, but there was something else he dreaded discussing more than his career moves.
“I figured you would be married by now. You know a wife and two point five kids, maybe a couple of dogs,” said Joshua.
Brandon laughed, couldn’t stop himself from doing it. He dreaded the topic more than anything, and Joshua wasted no time bringing it up. When he stopped laughing, he sat back and stared across the small table at him.
“What? Is that such a strange question?” said Joshua.
“No, no, not at all.”
Brandon shook his head and when he looked up saw the look. It had been years since he had seen it, but he still recognized it. Joshua knew he wanted to avoid the issue. He wondered if he could tell the truth, admit he couldn’t find someone who made his heart race as it had done in high school. Someone he could see spending the rest of his life with. Or admit that the one person who might have been the one, a person who had been all wrong to the skinny high school boy who wanted to be Steven Spielberg or Alfred Hitchcock, just a boy who had been afraid to do the one thing that was truly different from his classmates. A relationship with another boy. A boy from Molino he secretly loved to the point he eventually broke all contact with him.
Brandon looked across the table at Joshua, a man now, handsome, a body filled out, but he also saw an eighteen-year-old skinny boy he had secretly loved. He didn’t think he could ever admit such, even though Joshua was gay. He had hurt his friend by breaking contact and to admit he loved him would just add to the betrayal. He wondered if betrayal was too strong of a word, but looking across at Joshua, no other word seemed to fit.
The waiter came to their table and took their food and drink order. As he headed back to the kitchen, Joshua leaned forward.
“Well?” said Joshua.
“I came close to marrying once, but it wasn’t right and we broke up.”
“Just once.”
“Yeah, well…” uttered Brandon, not sure what he was going to say. “You know I let one or two slip past me.”
“I let one slip past me. I don’t know if they could have felt the same about me, but I wish I had been bold enough to find out.”
“What was he like?”
Joshua laughed, sitting back in a relaxed position. “He was a real geek, full of ideas.”
“Like us. What happened to him?”
“I don’t know, but I hope to find out. Maybe one day they will tell me. Do you ever think of second chances? The possibility of renewing a relationship with them.”
“You mean, do I dare to dream?” said Brandon.
“I guess we should have been more daring.”
“How’s your job in Greenville?” said Brandon, ready to change the subject.
“Good. Finally have a position that I like and make a decent salary. Nothing to write home about, but it is better than an intern’s salary. What about you? You’re teaching English now.”
“Yes, and it’s good.”
“I thought you were really going to pursue making movies.”
Brandon hesitated, just long enough for Joshua to frown. “I did but at some point, I realized I wasn’t cut out for the path required to reach that goal. It was too crazy.”
“I’m surprised you want to teach.”
“I do enjoy it, but it’s more like a steppingstone to something else.”
“What?” Joshua asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” said Brandon seeing the waiter coming their way.
“I’ve got two seafood platters,” said the waiter as he came to stand by their table.
5.
Joshua pulled out of Brandon’s drive and headed back to his parents’. It felt good to reconnect with him. He had worried about being pushed away, instead it felt like Brandon was just holding something back, keeping some secret, and he was willing not to push it, to let whatever secret Brandon was keeping remain one if it meant the renewal of their friendship. But he still considered it. The ‘what ifs’ and ‘if only’, the old feelings resurfacing as if no time had passed.
Then the memory of old fears surfaced.
The fear he had once possessed of being outed. It was the twenty-first century for Christ’s sake, but for a teen in a small community, it was still something that would not go well for far too many. At twenty-eight, he no longer cared what anyone in the community thought. He didn’t live here, didn’t depend on them, and if they wanted to cling to old prejudices and primitive notions of humanity, there was a part of him that didn’t care. Of course, he really did care, for he couldn’t be the only one. There had to be others, and for them he wished society was better, more accepting. People change or are never as they are portrayed, and he hoped it was the case for most in the community.
Growing up, he had been portrayed as a bigot, just one of those Ellison boys. He had to be as bad as that grandfather. But he had been different, rejecting his grandfather’s racism and bigotry. He tried to be a better person, not lash out at anyone who crossed his path in a manner not deemed suitable. It took time but when people realized his father, then he was not like the old bastard, they came around. He knew when his father broke the perceived connection to his grandfather. They had gotten into an argument in the parking lot of the post office. His father ended up walking home instead of getting back into the truck. He had been six years old at the time and remembered watching his father walk up the dirt drive in his usual slow stroll, as if he had only been out for an afternoon stroll. “Son, you think there’s some ice cream in the freezer?” his father had said. A few minutes later, they had sat on the back stoop eating a scoop of chocolate ice cream watching Fred and Cordelia, their two hounds, wrestling in the yard. It would be eight years before he found out what happened.
A good memory, one that tried to smother the bad one.
How did Brandon view those years? Were there more good memories than bad? Did he look back at their friendship and realize something was off about it. That there were things simmering beneath the surface that could have changed everything.
Joshua walked along the perimeter of the backyard, a vague meandering boundary defined by what was mowed and what was left to nature to do with as she wished. Phoebe, a mutt of indeterminate breed, moved in and out of the growth, sniffing the ground. He smiled as he watched her, for having a dog around was familiar. His father always had a dog, had since a young boy, saying there was no better companion for a boy. He knew for a boy growing up with someone with an abusive father, a dog had probably been an important companion.
He came to the place where there was a gap in the undergrowth, one used by his father for strolling into the woods. Was the old treehouse still there, he wondered. Brandon and he had started it when they were ten and when discovered by his father, they had feared getting into trouble. He had been pleasantly surprised his father helped them finish it, even though it was on the Phillip’s place. Later on, he would find out his father had called them to see if it was okay. He stepped between the two pine trees noticing the larger trunk size. It had been ten years since he had been to it, thinking how he had still climbed into it when he had been in high school, using it as a place to be alone. A place to think or just masturbate with fantasies of Brandon.
He followed the path, knowing his father kept it beat down. The grade sloped to a gully, and about halfway down, he came to the red maple and noticed right away that most of the boards nailed into the trunk were gone. Only two remained, soft with rot barely held in place by rusted nails. Looking up he smiled. The treehouse was still there. It showed signs of deterioration but for the most part looked intact.
How old were Brandon and he when they last played in it. He knew by the time they were fourteen they had abandoned it as something only little kids would use. Instead, they used the freedom their bicycles afforded them, riding all over the region. They rode to the boat ramp on the Escambia River, to Cantonment to the convenience store joking about the stench of the papermill, and up Brickyard Road to Barth Road where they would take a path along the railroad line up to Cotton Lake Ramp. They talked about movies, science fiction novels, and Brandon talked about girls.
They had to be thirteen the last time they hung out in the treehouse. Old enough for him to start to think of it, an attraction toward boys. He remembered one hot summer afternoon, the two of them shirtless, revealing skinny bodies covered in dirt and sweat, and he had looked at him in a way he knew was unacceptable. He had been so frustrated knowing he was different and not understanding it, not really, and it dawned on him that might have been the last time they hung out in the treehouse. To be alone with Brandon had become too frustrating, too dangerous.
Joshua looked at it and sighed, then he turned and headed back.
As he came out of the woods, he felt stir crazy. He needed to do something. Maybe he would ride into Pensacola to the mall or downtown and walk around. He could kill some time then grab dinner somewhere. Maybe go into Seville Historic District and eat at one of the old hangouts.
6.
Brandon paced around his home all afternoon, unable to focus on anything. The washer had a load of clothes ready to move to the dryer, the dishwasher had dishes to unload, and he should do some cleaning, or he could pick up where he left off in Tchaikovsky’s latest science fiction. But having lunch with Joshua had him wound up. He made a sandwich, tossed chips on the plate with it, for cooking was too much of a chore. After sitting in the living room watching a baseball game and eating, he went for a walk in the neighborhood.
It didn’t help. He paced around his house as the sunlight coming in through the windows crept further and further into the rooms until going up the far walls. He took a long hot shower hoping it would be the thing to relax him. Instead, he found himself standing in front of his closet telling himself to forget it, just put on some gym shorts and a T-shirt and call it a night. He reached in and pulled out a pair of jeans.
Where Detroit Boulevard crossed 29, Brandon waited impatiently for a gap in traffic letting him finally pull out. He accelerated away, cutting across the north bound lanes and headed toward Pensacola. It was after nine and he was contemplating where to go. There was the bar on Belmont that opened about a year ago. The outside was so nondescript that most people probably drove past without knowing it was there, but it had a fun eclectic interior and was popular with the neighborhoods around it. Or he could do into downtown where he could see which of the bars along Palafox captured his attention.
When he came to the interchange with I-10, he merged off for the east bound lanes. He didn’t want to fight the traffic on 29 all the way into downtown, instead he would cut over to I-110, taking it to its end.
A few minutes later, he came down the ramp, not for Garden Street that would take him to Palafox or Belmont, but the one for Chase Street. Being with Joshua had brought everything back to the surface, made him think of it. Maybe just being around others would be enough. The bar was only a few blocks away, tucked into a warehouse building on a block behind one of the most popular restaurants in town. Did anyone realize it? Just across the street, a gay bar in a warehouse backing up to the railroad tracks.
Brandon had ventured to the bar a few times since moving back. He had gone back to a hotel with a guy once, someone in town for business who he would never see again. It had seemed so simple, innocent in so many ways. Just someone to scratch that itch. Then he would go back to his real life. After seeing Joshua, he wondered if the temptation to hook up would be too great to ignore.
He pulled into the parking lot and parked at the curb opposite the entrance, the parking lot stripes long ago worn away. It was about half full, but it was early. He ambled across the lot, up the long ramp, and through the front door.
“What can I get you?” asked the bartender. Late twenties, maybe early thirties, neatly trimmed beard, brown eyes, and a pleasant smile.
“Gin and tonic,” said Brandon.
When the bartender sat the drink before him, he held out a twenty, then waited for his change. He looked along the bar seeing men young and old, some dressed casually and few in leather vests. One thing about a small city bar was how it could have a diverse crowd.
“Your change,” said the bartender.
Brandon slid a couple of bills back for a tip, pocketed the rest, and turned to the room. There were guys playing pool and others in small groups talking amongst themselves. Around the perimeter of the room, those that were alone, like himself, just watching the activity in the bar. There were a few looks his way, but he wasn’t ready to engage in any banter with someone. He pushed off the bar and headed across the room to the door that led out to the deck and patio area.
There were guys sitting around tables on the deck, but no one was down in the patio area. Brandon moved across the deck to a place where he could lean against the rail and observe the others.
“Brandon? What are you doing here?”
It was Joshua’s voice and Brandon turned to see him approaching. A white T-shirt and jeans, drink in the right hand, and a puzzled expression. Did he know Joshua could be at one of only a few gay bars in town? Did he want him to be there? Did he want to be caught by him at the bar? He would have denied it, said he hadn’t really considered it, but he knew he had done so. Gave thought of being discovered by Joshua at a gay bar. It would cut through so much. There would be nothing to admit. No confession needed. Just an explanation.
“Josh. I…huh…” stammered Brandon, then he laughed, out loud. “I was about to ask what are you doing here.”
They sat out from the deck as far as they could, away from everyone else. Brandon could see guys on the deck and on occasion one or two would look their way. What did they see? Two guys new to them, curious to know if they were available, or did they see two old friends reconnecting in a new way.
Brandon looked at Joshua seeing the amused expression. He had confessed everything…well, almost everything. He confessed of being bi-sexual, of relationships with women and the rare hook up with a guy in college and the one time since returning to the area. He confessed to his confusion about it, how it frustrated him to want one thing, a typical relationship with a woman, then desire one with a man. The only thing he didn’t confess was how it was him he had always wanted. How do you tell someone you wanted them after cutting all ties. It wouldn’t make sense, except it did make sense to him with his insecurity and inability to act upon it.
“So, you’ve been with a guy?” said Joshua after a long silence.
Brandon nodded.
“And you regretted it?” said Joshua.
“No, not at all. I was just scared to admit it.”
“I get it.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I had to get away from here before I could even admit to being gay.”
“I remember when mom told me about you coming out.”
“I bet that was some good gossip for a time.”
“Do you have someone back in Raleigh?”
“No. I’ve made friends, gone out with a few guys, but nothing of a serious relationship.”
“I find that hard to believe,” said Brandon, smiling at Joshua.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not that uncoordinated lanky teenager from ten years ago.”
Joshua laughed and Brandon had to laugh too.
“We were not popular in high school,” said Joshua.
“Remember when Mary Ann called us Goth for wearing black T-shirts?”
“Yes! As if she had any idea what Goth meant.”
“Did you ever…in high school?”
“You mean, mess around with a guy? NO! Oh hell, I was terrified of getting my ass kicked if I dared to approach one of the guys.”
“So, you didn’t lust after one of our classmates?”
Joshua looked at Brandon, mouth hanging open. He looked like he wanted to reply, but no words would come out.
“What? Was there a guy?” said Brandon, picturing Jackson, a wide receiver on the football team, then John Henry, tall, blonde, and blue eyed, and so crass and uncouth to have lusted after him had felt like something dirty, like you should take a shower just considering sex with him.
“Yeah, there was one.”
“Jackson? Or was it that asshole John Henry? God, that fucker was attractive, but as soon as he opened his mouth—”
“No, neither of them.”
Brandon waited for Joshua to continue, to confess who had been the one in high school. It crossed his mind that maybe it was him. Just as he had wanted Joshua, maybe, ironically, Joshua had wanted him. He pictured himself during those last three years of high school. Painfully skinny, and trying to be dramatically different, had long hair and an eclectic taste in clothes. He now knew he came across to most as just weird. But Joshua had been a skinny teenager too and if there had been any attraction, it would be a dark comedic moment.
“Do you remember when we hung out in that treehouse behind the house?” said Joshua.
He was changing the subject. It was disappointing, because he wanted to know, but he wouldn’t push it. There had been enough mistakes for a lifetime.
“Of course.”
“Do you remember one of the last times we hung out in it? It was summer and hot as fuck. We had been riding our bicycles and were sweaty, and in the treehouse, we dared to take off our shirts and lay in the dark with the breeze blowing through.”
“We were so skinny we didn’t want any of the other boys to see us. But, yes, we did that all the time, until the day you said going to the treehouse was for little kids.”
“When did I do that?”
“We were thirteen, for my fourteen birthday was a week later. We had been just laying around in it, sweating our asses off, when you jumped up and said we should go. On the walk back to your home said we should stop acting like little kids.”
“I remember,” said Joshua and he hesitated until Brandon was looking at him. “It was because it was the first time I knew I looked at you differently.”
“What do you mean?”
“I looked at you wanting something more than just friendship. I wanted to touch you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah…still do,” Joshua whispered.
“What?”
“I still do,” Joshua said louder.
“Fuck,” uttered Brandon.
“Did you ever think of it with me?”
Brandon knew there was no reason to deny it. It was time to be honest with Joshua, and more importantly, with himself. He sat back and smiled at Joshua. “All the time.”
Brandon led Joshua into his home, through the mudroom and into the kitchen where the light in the exhaust hood was the only one on. He led him through the kitchen, the small dining room and into the hall. The house was small, with only two small bedrooms, and after only a few steps, he was leading Joshua into his bedroom, a room that had been his private domain for far too long.
He stood by his bed and turned to the dark silhouette of Joshua, the lamp on the nightstand behind him. He wondered how to start. Should he just pull Joshua into a kiss or reach out and touch him. Feel the body that no longer seemed familiar.
“Are you nervous?” said Joshua in a playful tone.
“Yes,” said Brandon.
“Don’t be,” Joshua replied, then cupped the back of Brandon’s neck pulling him into a kiss.
Joshua went from kissing his mouth to kissing along his neck, the left ear, then the lips moved against it whispering in his ear. “You’re really going to let me?”
“Yes,” Brandon replied as he touched him. He ran his hands up and down the sides of the torso, then slipped them around the waist, pulling them together.
Joshua pulled back and Brandon felt the buttons of his shirt being undone. He felt a hand touch his chest, then move down over his stomach. He inhaled sharply, then pushed forward as the hand slipped into his jeans, fingers searching, rubbing downward until raking through pubic hair, then, finally, touching him.
It was happening. The crazy fantasy was becoming real. He breathed it in. He heard it. He felt it. The hand touching him, making him erect.
“Josh,” Brandon uttered breathlessly.
The hand pulled free from his jeans. His shirt slipped from his shoulders. He held his arms down letting it fall to the floor. A tug at his jeans, then the loosening of the waistband. They were tugged down, followed by his boxers. He felt his exposure, his cock free to angle outward and skin tingling with the cool air blowing over it. Joshua stooped and he felt his cock engulfed in the mouth. It moved on him, lips sliding along the length of his cock and the tongue manipulating the head.
He shivered with the manipulation.
Joshua guided him to lift his right foot and the jeans and boxers slipped free of it. He lifted his left foot and was soon naked. Totally naked and it was for Joshua. The mouth moved on his cock as hands slipped around cupping his ass. Fingers raked between his cheeks until touching him, rubbing over his tightness. He moaned and rocked between mouth and fingers. His cock flexed in the mouth. A finger penetrated him. It pushed through his tightness and bore into his ass. Then two fingers. Three, stretching him open.
Joshua stood and kissed him.
He tugged the T-shirt upward, raised arms letting him take it off. He undid the jeans and stooped to tug everything down. Joshua raised each foot letting him remove the jeans and boxers. He looked up at the cock, how it hung heavily over its sac, and he moved to it, capturing it in his mouth. He sucked. He toyed with it using his tongue. He sank it in his mouth until pubic hair tickled his nose. He inhaled Joshua’s masculine scent, he sucked Joshua’s cock, then he licked the nuts until wet.
“Get on the bed,” Joshua uttered with urgency.
Brandon stood and backed to his bed. He lay back on it and spread his legs, opening himself to Joshua. The bed rocked as Joshua moved between them. Cock dragged wetly up one thigh then pushed alongside his own cock. Joshua pumped it against his abdomen, then down below his nuts.
“Put it in me,” Brandon whispered.
Brandon clutched the bed and shivered at the feel of being stretched open. Cock penetrated him, squeezed through his tightness, then slowly eased into his hole. Inch by inch bore into his depths. Lips touched his neck, then moved along his jaw until pressing against his lips. He took the tongue into his mouth. He took each exhale of hot breath. He took the cock slowly fucking him.
Joshua laced their fingers together and held him down. He submitted, because he wanted it. He wanted to give himself to Joshua. He felt the weight of him, holding his hands down, and hips pressing against his ass as cock was pushed into his depths.
“Fuck! Joshua. Fuck me. Fuck me,” Brandon exclaimed.
Joshua pushed up and fucked harder. The bed began to rock and squeak. It tapped the wall in rhythm with their fuck. Brandon tilted his head back and closed his eyes, relishing the feel of it. Joshua’s fuck. Joshua’s cock pumping inside him. A connection as old as man.
“Fuck,” Joshua uttered, breathlessly, as sweat began to trickle down his face and torso.
Joshua shifted position, hooked arms behind his knees and his legs were pulled forward, raising his ass off the bed. Joshua began to fuck again, at first slowly, and he felt every inch tugging at his opening. But Joshua couldn’t maintain such a slow fuck. He was too aroused, to desperate to have Brandon, all of him, and he was soon fucking harder, faster, hips smacking against ass. The bed hammered the wall.
“I’m going to cum,” Joshua exclaimed.
“Do it. Pump it in me,” Brandon uttered breathlessly, as if the cock was pushing the air out of his lungs.
Joshua cried out, slammed cock into Brandon’s depths and jerked with each ejaculation.
7.
Joshua couldn’t believe he was in Brandon’s bed, not horsing around or playing video games as they had done as teenagers but as two men, intimate with their sexual desires. He rolled off Brandon and lay next to him gasping for breath.
“Brandon?”
“Yes.”
“Do me.”
He rolled to his hands and knees and felt the bed rock with Brandon moving on it. Hands took him by the waist as legs slipped between his own. Cock slapped his ass playfully, the pumped between the cheeks and over his lower back. He held his head down and waited for the penetration as he became aroused again. Cock raked up and down his ass, then pressed against his opening. A push, then another and he shivered as his opening stretched to take the cock. It squeezed into his hole and slowly sank into his depths. He relished the fullness of the penetration and pushed back taking every inch, feeling his ass against the Brandon. The hands tightened their hold and cock tugged at his opening as Brandon pulled back. Then the cock bore back into him. Slowly, Brandon began to fuck, to work the cock through his opening until he loosened to it.
Brandon increased the pace of their fuck, fucking harder, thrusting every inch of cock into his depths. He raised his head and cried out. He felt his own body respond to the fuck. His skin tingled and was sensitive to every touch. His cock swung heavily between his thighs getting erect.
Brandon fucked until Joshua didn’t know how he could keep it up. Then Brandon slipped free and moved by him, sitting against the headboard. He looked at the offered cock being held up. It was eight or nine inches of thick rock-hard cock and he moved over it. He worked his ass over the dripping head, then down on it. Brandon’s eyes were staring at him as he worked his body up and down. He sat up closer to Brandon letting his own cock slide up and down the stomach as he fucked himself, worked his ass on the cock until he wanted to cum again.
“Brandon…” Joshua uttered as he moved faster, wanting Brandon to cum inside him.
Joshua felt his arousal increase and he moved with greater physicality. He felt the surge of release within, then hands take him by the waist pulling him down on the cock. Brandon cried out with release. It pushed him over the edge and cum roped up Brandon’s chest and stomach as he came too.
Brandon was in the kitchen making breakfast, letting Joshua sleep a few minutes longer. He smiled and chuckled whenever he considered their night together. It was insane that their attraction toward each other would take so long to be realized. As he scrambled four eggs he replayed the intimate moments. The initial penetration by Joshua then their fuck. The kissing and utterances during their sex that were almost embarrassing to think of it. He flipped the sausage patties, dropped the bread in the toaster, then poured the eggs into the hot cast iron skillet, seeing it bubble up from the heat. He stirred the eggs until they were cooked then scooped them onto two plates. He put two sausage patties on each plate and when the bread popped up, he dropped two more pieces and buttered each slice, placing one on each plate. He poured another cup of coffee for himself, then one for Joshua, remembering how he drank it black even as a teenager.
With the last two pieces of toast buttered on a plate, he carried the plates to the table, then went to wake Joshua.
The covers were thrown back on the bed revealing it was empty. Maybe Joshua was in the bathroom. Brandon went back into the short hall and realized the bathroom door was ajar, the light out. He heard something in the other bedroom, one he also used as a study. He went to the door and looked past the bed at the small desk in front of the window with a desktop computer and notes stacked on it, seeing Joshua sitting at it, looking through one stack of paper.
“Joshua! What are you doing in here?”
Joshua turned casually, holding a page, and he looked at Brandon with surprise. “You’re writing a book.”
Brandon grimaced. He had revealed one secret but this one he had not wanted to reveal. He was writing a book, had been working diligently on it since returning for the teaching job. It was the thing he wanted to do since giving up on being a director. But he wasn’t confident it was good enough for publishing and knew the chances of getting it published were slim. But he was determined to do it, and on the desk was over two hundred pages.
“I didn’t want you to see that.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just not ready for anyone to see it.”
“But it seems good.”
“You’re just saying—”
“No. I’ve read a few pages, and it seems good.”
“Joshua, put it back and come eat. I’ve got breakfast ready.”
Joshua had barely got seated when he asked about the manuscript. “What’s it about?”
“Let’s eat,” said Brandon, avoiding the subject. What if Joshua thought it silly, an idea they had talked about a long time ago, one had not been able to let go.
Joshua was about half finished when he brought it up again. “I got it is science fiction but was confused about what the characters were talking about.”
“Joshua.”
“You don’t want to discuss it.”
“It’s just I’m not sure about it. It is the first time I’ve really tried to write a book, and it is harder than I thought, keeping the story consistent, and a consistency of the personalities of the characters, then there is the basic premise of the story. Is it worth a damn, will anyone give a shit, or worse, can I even get it published?”
“But you’re doing it.”
“Yes, I’m trying.”
“When you’re ready to send it out I can help.”
“Really? You’ll help me.”
“Yes. This could be…I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Finish your breakfast.”
Joshua began to eat again, and they ate in silence until both were finished. Joshua leaned back and looked across the table at Brandon and grinned.
“What’s so funny?” said Brandon.
“We got past the awkward morning after sex.”
Brandon looked at Joshua with confusion, then he grinned back. “I guess so.”
“I have to leave in three days but before I go, can we…” Joshua stammered to a stop.
“Fuck around some more?”
“No. Yes. No, not like that.”
“Then how?”
Joshua exhaled, then leaned forward. “Can we start over. Do this little reunion right. How about we go out for a late lunch, then maybe this evening go to a movie or something.”
“Like a date?”
“Yes!”
“But it’ll only be for two days then you’re gone again.”
“But not like before. It doesn’t have to be. We can—”
“Do what? Have a long-distance relationship?”
“At first, maybe, but can’t we see how it might work out?”
“Josh, do you really think we can work something out?”
“Brandon, don’t you want to try?”
8.
Brandon paced around the living room, then went back to the kitchen to wipe the countertop again. He looked toward the hall again, wondering how far Joshua had gotten. It’d been three days since Joshua arrived and after a night of sex, Joshua had spent most of the following two days in his guest bedroom/study, reading the manuscript of the finished book.
He wondered how far along Joshua had gotten with the manuscript. When they ate lunch and dinner, Joshua refused to discuss it, telling him to wait until he finished.
Looking out the window, he saw Mrs. Lancaster drive by in her old Cadillac and he wondered if this was the day she went to get her hair done or if it was the day she went to visit her husband in the assisted living facility. What was it like to have a spouse get to where they had to have special help in caring for them. He was almost thirty, would be in a month, and hoped it was something he didn’t have to face for at least fifty years. Maybe in fifty years, they will be advanced enough to address the issues of dementia and failing bodies, at least enough to prevent situations like the one with the Lancaster’s.
He looked toward the hall again, wondering if Joshua would still be in his life when such time came. He hoped so, more than he could admit. Joshua talked about a life together; of making plans to move to Pensacola to be with him. It seemed wrong to make Joshua to even consider it. A move from Raleigh to Pensacola seemed a step in the wrong direction. There were no companies to compare to the firm Joshua worked at.
Without telling Joshua, he had been sending resumes to Raleigh, to N C State and to the school board for Wake County, and a few private schools. So far, nothing but rejection after rejection. It was so maddening that he found himself going from editing the manuscript to starting a new novel, another science fiction storyline, but one with a dystopian angle that spoke to recent events. It was cathartic to vent his frustration and anger through his writing, and it occupied the long, lonely nights between their long trips to visit each other.
It seemed impossible that two years had passed since Joshua and he met at the bar and ended up in his bed. Two years of text messages, phone calls, ten-hour road trips, and flights that at times seemed to take as long as the road trips with delays and getting through airports. There were vacations in the North Carolina mountains and to Wyoming and Montana, along with a couple of long weekends in Atlanta. And during that time, Joshua was patient, never pushing for more than he was able to give. Did Joshua know how important it was for him to get a novel written, to have the accomplishment. There were conversations about what it would like after the manuscript was published, Joshua always confident it would be. There were no allusions a published book would be a financial success, even if it were a bestseller at some level. He wasn’t going to get rich from it. But it could be a steppingstone to a creative career he had longed for since his teenage years.
“I’m finished,” said Joshua, coming into the living room and sitting on the sofa at the front window.
Brandon went to the armchair opposite where he could face him. Through the window, traffic silently passed as he waited for Joshua to begin. There was the smile, one so familiar in how dimples formed either side of the mouth and the eyes seemed to widen, as if opening to him.
“Well?” said Brandon.
“I think it is good. Very good.”
“But do you think someone less biased will think so?”
Joshua laughed. “Of course. Do you have a publisher ready to consider it?”
“I’ve reached out to a few but nothing positive.”
“Well, now is the time to get it out there.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. Now what do we do to get a publisher on board?”
The planning took two hours, going over the list of publishers, crossing out those that were deemed unrealistic. Joshua put address labels on small boxes, preparing them for shipping once Brandon got the manuscripts printed for those willing to take hard copies.
“This will cost a fortune to print,” joked Brandon as he put it in a white office file box.
“You need some help with the cost?”
“No, just joking about it.”
“How long will it take the printer to do the job?”
“They can have it done within a day. If you’re leaving early tomorrow morning, I’ll go after you take off and get it printed and shipped.”
“Well, I think everything is ready to go,” said Joshua slipping a copy of the cover letter in each box. “All you need to do is put the manuscript in the box, place the letter on top, and get it shipped. How many have you emailed out?”
“Five, no, six.”
“How long before they respond? Does their website indicate?”
“No,” Brandon replied. “What do you want to do for dinner?” he asked to change the subject.
“Let’s go get seafood,” said Joshua.
“I should have known,” said Brandon.
Joshua followed Brandon into the house where they tossed keys and wallets onto the kitchen countertop and headed to the bedroom. They had one more night together and there would be no wasting it. Joshua removed Brandon’s shirt, kissing each new exposed area. He undid the jeans and slipped his hand into the boxers manipulating the cock as they kissed. Brandon responded and Joshua was soon stroking a hard cock.
Joshua eased to his knees, dragging the jeans and boxers down as he went. He captured the cock in his mouth, closing his lips behind the flared head and pushing forward as far as he could. He sucked it, worked his mouth on it until Brandon was moaning and grunting in that familiar way. Then came the working of the hips, pumping the cock through his lips.
Brandon grunted, shuddered, then pushed his spurting cock into Joshua’s mouth.
Joshua helped Brandon free each leg from the jeans and boxers. He ran his hands up the legs, then stood and kissed him as he unbuttoned his own shirt. Brandon helped him strip, shirt, jeans, boxers, until he too was naked.
They moved down on the bed and touched each other, stroked cocks, rubbed chest, and kissed. Joshua rolled to his back and guided Brandon to move over him. He spread his legs holding each behind the knees, opening himself to him. Cock pushed against his ass then slid alongside his own cock. Brandon moved over him, body undulating, cock pumping against his abdomen as it rubbed his cock.
“Brandon. Fuck me,” said Joshua. He took the cock in hand and guided it to his hole. It pressed against his tightness. When he stretched open to take it, his body shivered with the penetration.
Brandon fucked slowly, then faster until gasping for breath, then he slowed again, pumping cock into Joshua’s depths. He pulled out, guided Joshua to roll over, and he moved over him. He penetrated the raised ass, pushing inward until pressed against it. He bearhugged Joshua, arm tight around the neck and he fucked. Fucked until feeling his arousal increase. He nipped the neck and earlobe and uttered intimacies breathlessly as he worked his hips, driving cock into Brendon’s depths.
“Brandon,” Joshua uttered as he pushed inward and came.
Joshua rolled to his back and rested his legs on the shoulders as Brandon shifted close. Cock slapped his ass, then centered on it and pushed through his tightness. He tilted his head back and cried out as Brandon bore into his depths.
Brandon felt the legs against his chest, how they rubbed and bumped against him as he fucked. He clutched each behind the knee, buried his cock in the ass, and pushed the legs forward then down until thighs were tight to Joshua’s chest. He knew to be pinned down, folded over with ass turned up aroused Joshua, and he bore down on him and fucked. Fucked hard, hips smacking against the ass making the bed protest beneath them. He fucked until gasping for breath and sweat rained down on Joshua. Then he pushed into the depths of the ass and came.
“Take me…take me,” Brandon uttered breathless as his cock ejaculated.
9.
Joshua was still amazed how his life had changed after Brandon and he came back together. The time spent going back and forth, he from Greenville, South Carolina and Brandon from Pensacola, Florida. Hours spent on I-65 and I-85, the worst part of the trip nearly always getting around Atlanta.
“Come on, Josh, the light has changed,” said Brandon.
“Oh, okay,” Joshua replied, stepping off the curb to cross Virginia Avenue.
Joshua looked at the restaurants on the corner, wondering if they should try them at some point. They had eaten at George’s and La Moon, and back toward Ponce De Leon, Truva. As they strolled past the Oyster House, he realized there were a lot of restaurants in the city, enough to give them new places to go for date night or meet friends for dinner for months, even years to come.
There was a small crowd of people on the sidewalk in front of the bookstore. Joshua sensed Brandon tensing up as he had done every time. Brandon’s innate shyness made it difficult, but once engaged with the people, Joshua knew he would be fine. And if Brandon got flustered and thrown off by something said, a smile and nod of the head would be enough to calm him.
“I don’t know why I still get so nervous,” said Brandon as Joshua opened the door.
“You’re just naturally shy. After you,” said Joshua, motioning for Brandon to enter first.
Joshua followed Brandon into the bookstore seeing one of the staff coming toward them. He looked at the latest release table seeing Brandon’s second book prominently displayed, which was expected since they were there for him to do a book signing. The Eudialate Empire by Brandon Ryan Taylor. It was Brandon’s version of a dystopian future that made readers reflect on circumstances occurring in the present time. Joshua had been shocked how quickly Brandon got the manuscript done considering the years it took to write the first book. A Fracturing sat next to The Eudicalate Empire, the bookstore promoting both books.
As Brandon spoke to the bookstore staff, Joshua pulled away, strolling past the best seller display. A Fracturing didn’t make the best seller list, but it was good enough in sales to get The Eudialate Empire published. Sales had been strong for the book, and Joshua hoped it did well enough to get on the best sellers list. It would be such a reward for all of Brandon’s hard work.
“Josh, I’m going on back,” said Brandon.
Joshua turned to him and smiled, nodding that he heard. “I’ll make my way back,” he replied.
Joshua watched Brandon move toward the back of the store, then he turned back to the books on display. Nothing caught his eye for he was thinking of the last eighteen months. The second book going through the preparation, then the printing for release, and then there was the big move. The place that they had derided after every road trip ended up being the place they had moved to be together.
They had an apartment outside the loop to the west, a place they could afford. Brandon was teaching English at a high school and working on an outline of a third book. He had taken a job with firm located north of Smyrna near the base. It was not a long drive, but some evenings the drive home could be maddening. But it was worth every minute stuck in traffic to come home to Brandon.
Joshua saw the group that had been on the sidewalk come in and he glanced at his watch to see it was nearly time for Brandon to start. He headed toward the rear of the store wondering how long it would take to sign a book for all that came. What he did know, it would have Brandon wound up, and when they got home…he smiled at the thought of it.
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