Two Weeks

“Charles, tell us who intervenes in the last battle when Odyssey has returned home?”  said Mr. Hoffman, the senior English instructor.

Charlie sits up, stumped by the fact he had not gotten to the last part of the story. Late the night before, he read to the point Odyssey had just returned, and fell asleep.

“He…huh…”

The bell rings, ending the class and the school day.

“Okay, we’ll pick up tomorrow,” said Mr. Hoffman.

Charlie crams his book and notebook into his backpack and slips out of his desk, falling in with his classmates as everyone makes their way to the door. He is relieved, feeling he escaped the embarrassment of getting called out for not finishing the reading.

The corridor is packed. Some are trying to get to their lockers, and others, like Charlie, are making their way to the double doors at the end of the corridor. He moves with the majority, one of many, heading toward the exit. He nods and makes comments to friends as they all move down the corridor.

Through the doors, most of the students turn left, heading to the line of buses waiting to take them home, Charlie and the remaining turn right, heading to the parking lot where those with a vehicle or ride with someone who has one go to head home. Charlie sees Ryan heading toward his Jeep, then Lisa and Bryan heading to her 4Runner, and Mitchell cutting toward the front part of the parking lot toward his Mustang. Charlie angles toward the far back corner where his eight-year-old Civic is waiting. He passes Sara who is kissing her boyfriend, Landon before they get into their respective vehicles, Sara into her Malibu and Landon into his F-150. The parking lot is a reflection of the community. Pickups driven by farm boys, SUVs by those with successful parents and economy cars by those frugal or lower middle class unable to afford something trendy and new. Charlie fell into the latter category. His father worked at the papermill and drove an old Accord and his mother worked at the garden center and drove the newest vehicle in the family, a four-year-old Camry. Cheap, reliable transportation.

About halfway across the parking lot, Charlie finds himself pulled away from the others and with head down, he moves toward his car. The further away he gets the more it feels like he could breathe again. Inside the walls of the school, he feels anxious all the time. There was this sense he should look over his shoulder, looking out for the one person who could expose him.

Just two weeks and he would be free.

Two weeks the school year ended and he, a senior, would be graduating, never needing to return to the place he considered a torment. In the last couple of years, it had grown so much worse. The subtle changes in the way some teachers felt more embolden to talk of their religion, to insert Bible stories into history or English class, or make some disparaging comment about evolution while mentioning the creation story. It horrified Charlie, the way the teachers whom they trusted to tell the truth about their subjects of instruction, would bring into the discussion things he knew were just stories with no historical foundation. But what scared him the most was they way the school banned some books, removed them from classrooms and the library, and within the bans, any book dealing with the LGBTQ. It was an attempt to erase them, give excuses to demonize them, scapegoat them as the reason for many of society’s problems, ironic when the accusers are the manufacturers of much of the problems.

Two weeks, and he, Charles Rayford Bradberry, would be released from the torment of keeping his secret. He had come out to his parents a year ago, unable to keep it from them any longer. It led to a tough two weeks, but in the end, a much better home life. It gave him refuge, a place he could relax. A place where he could breathe.

His mother was the one who came to him first, sitting next to him on his bed, the two of them wiping tears from their eyes. She told him they loved him, he was their youngest son, and they would support him. Then she gave him a warning. Not to tell anyone at his school, to get through his last year and to college, where he would be free to be the person he was meant to be.

Charlie wasn’t sure she was right. Maybe he should have come out. Come out to his friends, then his classmates. Maybe he should have challenged the teachers that made derisive remarks. But he knew as a student, he wasn’t supposed to question the teachers, he was supposed to take what they said and accept it. His rural county school was a place of indoctrination, not learning. He saw it every day in the community. The Confederate battle flags, like the one on Landon’s truck, or the bumper stickers that were snarky and hateful. And the book bans, hundreds of titles removed from their library. Books about the Civil War not whitewashing over slavery and life in the south prior to the war. Books about racism, other cultures and religions, and books about gays and lesbians. Or just the mere whiff of a reference to a gay or lesbian person.

Come fall he was going to be at the university, the one not sixty miles away. It was like a safe haven waiting for his arrival. Despite the state’s best efforts to censor the university, they couldn’t control the diverse student body. He was all set. Scholarships, acceptance letter, and the coordination of entering as a freshman, with lodging in a dorm.

Charlie passed the old white Dodge truck that belonged to Curtis then cut between it and Harry’s Subaru, heading to the last car, his Civic. He came into the drive aisle and finally took notice of it. A Post-it note, bright yellow on the grey asphalt. He saw them all the time. Stuck in books marking a page. Stuck to lockers leaving a note to friend, or threat to a perceived enemy. He saw them passed under desks in class, some flirtation or question that could have waited until after class. He saw them on the refrigerator at home. Dad telling mom he would be late, mom leaving herself a reminder to buy milk or butter or instructing him to pick up the items after school. They were everywhere and one more should not be noteworthy. He should have stepped over it, kicked it to one side, or picked it up, wadded it into a small tight ball and discarded it when he got home. He did pick it up, because he was curious about what was written on it. He didn’t recognize the handwriting, but what was scribbled across it intrigued him.

Awareness group

___-___-____

An awareness group? What was that? It was something odd, for Charlie knew of no group that would refer to itself in such a manner. He climbed into his car, looked around to see if anyone was watching him (that old paranoia kicking in again), and he unlocked his cellphone. He punched in the number, wondering what he would say, deciding he would just make it a wrong number dialed on his part. He hit send and listened to it ring. One, two, three times, then a recording came on.

“You have reached the __________ Gay Awareness organization. If you are looking for the time and place of our next meeting, dial 1. If you’re looking for--“

Charlie ended the call. He was suddenly scared, as if he had fallen into some trap. He looked around to see if anyone was pranking him, trying to out him with some ruse. All he saw was his classmates driving toward the exit.

He looked at the note, suddenly aware it wasn’t about him, but about someone else. Someone else had gotten the number for the nearby university’s support group. Someone else had felt a need to get it. Someone else in his school was gay.

 

The next day felt different. Charlie looked at his classmates in a new light, knowing one of them had looked up the gay support group at the university. He parked in his usual place, strolled to the building dressed as he normally dressed. A plaid shirt and jeans. He had his backpack slung over the right shoulder and greeted his friends with his usual salutations. But his eyes scanned everyone with an intent to see who was different. Who had a secret, a secret he too held close.

As he neared the building, a Subaru pulled in later than usual, swinging into a parking space out near the road. It was Harry. Charlie saw him climb out of his car, blonde, blue eyed, and boyishly cute. Was it him? He considered how Harry dated a few girls, but none for very long. He saw the shorter than average classmate head toward the building, swinging a backpack over the left shoulder. Maybe he was the one.

Pushing through the double doors, Charlie looked down the noisy corridor as he wove his way through the others heading to his locker. He passed Frank, feeling the big muscular jock presence, how Frank took up so much of the space around him. But his personality didn’t fit the presence. Frank was shy, introverted, one to follow the other jocks, never lead. With his red hair, green eyes and muscular build, he was what Cynthnia called a ‘hottie’ and Charlie had to agree. But what Charlie wanted to know was whether Frank was the one who dropped that note. He saw the green eyes follow Elizabeth down the corridor, and it seemed to Charlie Frank was not the one.

Jason pushed past Charlie, rushing down the hall. A definite no on Jason. Charlie knew the stories, all the rumors of Jason’s antics. The fucking around with several girls, the talk in the locker room, how he bragged about hooking up when at the college he would be attending in the fall, doing some enrollment process.

Charlie heard Ryan laugh and looked over to see him flirting with Amanda and Rachel, the three of them huddled in front of Rachel’s locker. Ryan was tall, dark-haired with grey eyes and a muscular build from weight training for baseball and basketball. Charlie wanted it to be Ryan, but seriously couldn’t imagine it.

A short distance down the corridor, Charlie passed Mitchell at his locker. Dressed as usual in all black, Mitchell was one of five the class considered their goth group. Mitchell was average in build and height with long jet-black hair everyone knew was dyed. Mitchell had brown hair or did until the tenth grade when it became black. Mitchell kept to himself, excelled at English and Art, skipped P.E. classes as much as possible, and on the surface, seemed like an ideal candidate. But Charlie knew Mitchell, had since kindergarten, and Mitchell was a lot of things, but gay wasn’t one of them. He knew Mitchell was dating a girl from the college town, a girl a year older, now enrolled at the university. A fact most in his class didn’t know, for Mitchell never talked about his personal life.

Slipping into his homeroom for the start of the day, Charlie walked past Roger going to his usual seat. Roger was short, about five foot three or so, lean build, with short brown hair and vivid blue eyes. He was cute, friendly, but painfully shy. He kept to himself, reading during lunch in a corner of the cafeteria or before the start of first and fifth periods, as he was doing now, some thick novel opened before him. Charlie knew Roger had friends, guys and girls much like him. The quiet shy types that avoided the others. Charlie looked at Roger, wondering about the shyness, the isolation Roger created around himself. Was it a defense mechanism, a way to keep a secret.

Charlie wanted to say he was a candidate but there was something about labeling Charlie as gay with such a vague sense of the real person. It felt wrong, something Charlie wouldn’t want someone doing to him, whether it was his sexuality or some other aspect about him.

The bell rang to start the day, and Ms. Glazewski came into the room with her ledger used to take roll.

 

Six period English and Charlie survived the fifty minutes. He had finished The Odyssey last night, obtaining the answer to the question from the day before, only for his teacher to change it, wanting to know about Odyssey’s final reunion with his wife. When the bell rang, Ryan had been at the front of room reading his report on The Epic of Gilgamesh. Within a minute, everyone was packed up and out the door.

 

For days Charlie was obsessed with trying to figure out who in his school was gay. At times he realized it could be a girl who was lesbian, or it might be someone who was questioning their gender, but he always circled back to the idea, the hope, it was a guy. Each day at school, he surveyed the guys, took note of how they looked at others, or seemed to keep something hidden, something kept close to the chest. Like Harry, boyishly cute Harry. He was outgoing at school, but after school, he dropped off the radar. Rarely went to anyone’s party or cookout, and never invited anyone to his house. The rumor was Harry’s parents were having problems, that they may get a divorce. It would explain a lot, but Charlie wondered if there was more.

Passing Ryan in the corridor, Charlie nodded while trying to make it him. Ryan flirted with the girls but hadn’t been serious with one in a long time. Jesse said Ryan had told him he was waiting until college, that he wasn’t going to let some local girl hold him back. Made sense, for Charlie knew more than one that schemed to keep one of the guys close, even considering getting pregnant if that was what it took. They wanted marriage to one of the boys they were attracted to, and they wanted children, three or four at least, and if they had to force the first one onto the guy to make everything fall into place, then so be it. Ryan had to know as well as anyone, and it was obvious to Charlie, Ryan was taking every precaution not to be the one.

In English, sitting in his usual spot, Charlie looked across the room, looking for some clue, some indication that one of the guys wasn’t who he pretended to be. He knew the irony of it, how he did it himself, and successfully so far, so anyone could be keeping it a secret. Roger came into the room and Charlie wondered once again if Roger could be the one. He was shy, introverted to a fault, and at lunch would be online but never letting anyone see what he was looking at. Emily said it was porn, but Charlie knew that was just her wild imagination, always looking for the most sordid angle. Mitchell said Roger was into role playing games and that he looked at websites on storylines and characters. Charlie didn’t know how Mitchell would know such a thing until Mitchell told of his first cousin over in Bryson City played the games and mentioned playing with Roger.

So, everything circled back to a big fat nothing. Zip. Zero. And Charlie went home frustrated from trying to figure it out. There was only a week left of school.

 

Charlie drove to Bryson City for a burger. It was Saturday afternoon, his parents were visiting a relative in Mobile, and he was on his own. He circled the town square and down First Street until he came to The Barn, a small place that specialized in hamburgers, chicken sandwiches, and French fries, with a few other items just to round out their menu.

It is nearly one late for most, and there are several parking spaces available in front. Charlie swings his Civic into one, shuts off the engine, and checks his phone. Emily texted him inviting him to a cookout that evening. He typed a reply, telling her he would be there. Then he started to open his door when a Jeep pulled in next to him. He looked over to see if he was right about its owner. Ryan was climbing out from behind the wheel. As he got out Ryan came around and stood in front of him.

“Hey Charlie, what brings you here?”

“Mom and dad are visiting a relative down in Mobile, so I’m on my own for lunch.”

“Me too. Come on, keep me company.”

 

“So, Charlie, I understand you’re going to _________ this fall,” said Ryan.

Charlie sat back and sipped the last of his drink as Ryan was swallowing the last of his fries. A wipe of the mouth, and Ryan sat back.

“Yes, and you’ll be there too, right?”

“Yep. I can’t wait.”

Ryan tilted his head in a questioning way. “Charlie, why did it seem like you were just trying to get through school instead of trying to enjoy your time there.”

Charlie looked across the table wondering how to respond. Should he tell the truth. I’m gay and felt like I could be hurt at any time. Or should he lie, make up something. Well, you know Ryan high school is just so juvenile. I mean, they don’t dare teach the things we really need to know. He sat silent, unsure what to say.

“I know school could be cruel. The way bullying is allowed to happen to those considered different in some way,” said Ryan.

“What would you know about it?” Charlie wasn’t trying to sound flippant, he really wanted to know how Ryan could possibly know anything about it.

Ryan leaned on the table, forearms flat across the top of it. He looked down, then up at Charlie.

“Maybe more than you know.”

He didn’t mean it to sound so dismissive, but Charlie scoffed, and he saw Ryan react to it.

“I’m sorry, but Ryan, you were one of the most popular guys in school. You could have gone out with anyone,” said Charlie, realizing too late he said anyone, leaving it open to either sex.

“Charlie, maybe I never was able to meet the right one.”

Charlie heard the sadness in Ryan’s tone, something he didn’t think he had ever heard from him before.

“I know I wasn’t able to meet the right one. I just hope college is different,” said Charlie.

“It damn well better be,” said Ryan, smiling at Charlie.

Charlie laughed, nodding his head.

“Hey, I need go. Mom is at the salon, and I have to go pick her up. Thanks for eating with me,” said Ryan, getting to his feet.

“You know Ryan, this is the first time the two of us ever sat together like this,” said Charlie, laughing it off, despite wondering if Ryan would want to hang out with him over the next week, then the summer.

“It is, isn’t it,” said Ryan. He picked up his tray and turned to a nearby trash receptacle dumping it. He turned back to Charlie. “Maybe we can do it again some time.”

“Yeah, if you want to.”

“Shit, I’m late, but let’s hang out some over the summer.”

Charlie watched Ryan rush to the front door and out into the bright sunlight. A jog to the Jeep, and within seconds it was backing out of the parking space. Charlie watched, until the Jeep was out of sight, then he picked up his tray and stepped to the trash receptacle wondering if Ryan would really want to hang out with him. He hoped so.

 

Two days, just two more days and Charlie knew he would be past the worst years of his life. Others were able to experiment with dating, going out with different people. And some were experiencing sex. The jokes of blow jobs, or the mischievous smiles about parking out on Hanks Road or down on Jasper Creek at the bridge on the last dirt road in the community. One too sparsely populated to justify the expense. Perfect for parking at night and fucking in the back seat.

Mr. Hoffman was handing out the results of their last writing assignment, a report on early twentieth century English literature, focusing on one of their favorites. Charlie took his paper, one three pages longer than necessary and having an ‘A+’ written in red below his name.

“Good work, Charlie. You should do well in college,” said Mr. Hoffman.

“Thanks.”

Mr. Hoffman made his way down the last aisle and circled around his desk.

“Tomorrow, we’ll just talk about what to expect in college for those of you going in the fall.”

The bell rang, and everyone shoved their papers and notebooks into backpacks and headed for the door. Charlie followed a group out, going down the corridor, through the double doors and turned to the parking lot.

“Charlie! Charlie, wait up.”

Charlie turned to see Ryan jogging toward him. He stepped to the side of the walk letting others pass. Ryan came up next to him.

“Hey, Rachel is having a cookout then a bonfire at their place tomorrow after school. Will you come?” said Ryan.

“Rachel has never invited me to anything before,” said Charlie, suddenly self-conscious about being an outsider to Ryan and his friends.

“She said to invite you.”

“She did?”

Ryan smiled. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s the last day of school, so don’t isolate yourself anymore. There’s no reason. Come on, just say you’ll come. It starts at seven. If you need directions or a ride—”

“I know where she lives, and I can drive over.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow at Rachel’s.”

 

Two weeks. Just like that, two weeks had passed. There were no more classes, just the graduation ceremony to endure and they were free. Charlie had dressed in cargo shorts and one of his favorite T-shirts, one with Artic Monkeys on the front with a black, red, and white stripped pattern twisting around the band name. In the passenger seat, a plastic container of his mom’s chocolate chip cookies. When he had asked Rachel what to bring, she initially said nothing, but then asked about his mom’s cookies. It seemed like a way to show he could be a part of the gang, even if was the last time they would be getting together. There were five or six going into military service, two leaving to live in a city, and one driving out west to work on his uncle’s ranch. And over the coming weeks, more would leave or take permanent jobs or simply fade into life in the country. Come fall, more would leave, and Charlie knew Ryan and he would be two more to do so.

He drove down the gravel drive to the back of the Miller’s house seeing cars, trucks, SUVs parked everywhere in the large back yard that led down to two barns. He parked and headed toward the picnic tables lined up along the side yard and out from them in the pasture, a pile of wood ready to be lit for the bonfire.

“Hey, Charlie, over here.”

Ryan was sitting in a camp chair with Amanda on his left and an empty chair to his right. Charlie strolled over, taking note of who was at the cookout and how they were in the same cliques as in school.

“Hey guys. Where should I take these?” said Charlie, holding up the cookies.

“Are those your mom’s cookies?” said Rachel

“Yep,” said Charlie, pulling the top off and holding out the container for Rachel to take one.

“Thanks Charlie,” said Rachel.

“The second table has deserts on it, the one with drinks on the end,” said Ryan.

“I’ll be right back,” said Charlie, and he made his way to the table, placing the container among two pies, a cake, and a platter of cookies that looked like Ms. Amerson’s sugar cookies.

“Hey Charlie, how’s your mom and dad,” said Ms. Miller coming to the first table with a platter of cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and onion for the hamburgers being cooked on the grill.

“Good.”

“I see you brought your mom’s chocolate chips. Don’t expect any to be left over,” Ms. Miller joked.

“There’s more at home,” Charlie replied.

“Smart.”

 

Charlie sat next to Ryan, Amanda, and Rachel, the three of them joking around about something. Looking around the blazing bonfire, feeling its heat even though he was well back from it, he studied how the others were behaving and the atmosphere it created. The intimacy of the moment, their only light the fire itself, and everyone talking with lowered voices, some whispering, a few others making out. He felt like someone on the outside looking in. He saw the intimacy that was coursing through the group, but he didn’t feel it. He looked over at Ryan, wondering why he wasn’t doing like a lot of the other boys. Those with girlfriends were expected, but he was surprised to see others quickly couple with a girl. Was there some instinct, some mating desire so strong that every opportunity was exploited. Or was it simply the need for companionship. He knew humans were social animals, more so than some espousing notions of freewill and individualism would ever admit.

Looking at Ryan for the hundredth time, Charlie knew being with two girls prevented anything from happening with either one. Was it on purpose Ryan hung out with both girls. He liked entertaining the idea, even though he thought it was just him projecting onto the situation what he wanted to be true.

Landon led Sara toward one of their vehicles. Charlie watched them until faded into the darkness. When he turned back to the circle, he saw Lisa and Bryan stop kissing, giggle foolishly, then Lisa led Bryan to one of their vehicles. Then he heard Tommy ask Dennis if she wanted to go for a walk and soon, they too disappeared into the darkness headed toward the fishpond down below the pasture. Ryan laughed at something one of the girls said, and once again Charlie felt like an outsider. He climbed to his feet and started walking away from the circle with no idea where he was going. He looked up and realized the older of the two barns loomed up in the darkness, its silhouette looming up dark against the moon lite sky.

It was as good as any destination when he just wanted to get away from everyone.

The main doors were swung open back against the wall, and Charlie eased into the barn, stopping inside the doors to let his eyes adjust one more time to a new level of darkness. He could make out silhouettes and vague shapes. Defiantly, he moved forward, hands out to make sure he didn’t run into something. He came to a wall and found a door with a slide bolt, and he easily slipped it over and pulled the door open. It was a workshop, a work bench along the wall by the door, and to his left, shelves lined the wall and on the opposite side of the room, a low work bench, and along the back wall, below a row of windows that let in the moonlight another low work bench.

He crossed the room and looked out at the moon hovering over the pasture and woods beyond. Turning he eased along the work bench, raking a finger through saw dust as he took note of the jigsaw, the belt sander, and a set of wood chisels.

“Charlie?”

It was Ryan somewhere in the barn.

“Charlie? Are you in here?”

“I’m back here in the wood shop,” Charlie called out.

A silhouette filled the door and Charlie recognized it was Ryan.

“What are you doing in here?” said Ryan.

“Just looking around.”

“Why did you leave the bonfire?”

“I…”

What was he going to tell Ryan. That he felt lonely, a loneliness that isolated him from the others and even sitting right next to Ryan and the two girls, he had not been a part of their conversation. He was tempted to lie, blow it off as him just stretching his legs. But something about the moment said for him to be honest.

“Honestly, I just felt kind of left out…not really part of the group. I know that sounds stupid, but—”

“No, I don’t think it sounds stupid. I know what you mean.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Charlie leaned against the work bench watching Ryan come toward him, slowly, tentatively, every step taken with care. He wondered if Ryan was afraid of him in some way for why else would Ryan be so slow in approaching.

“High school really sucked with the way we had to pretend to be something we’re not,” said Ryan.

“Yeah,” said Charlie in such a low voice he wasn’t sure Ryan heard him.

“I don’t know how you did it, keeping to yourself. It must have been lonely.”

“It was.”

Ryan moved close, damn close, just a couple of feet away.

“Where’s Amanda and Rachel?” said Charlie.

“Back at the bonfire.”

“Maybe we should go back.”

“NO,” exclaimed Ryan and he moved forward so fast it surprised Charlie. With a hand resting on the work bench either side of him, it had Ryan right in his face, so close he could make out the eyes that were staring back.

“Ryan?”

“I hope I’m not wrong,” said Ryan, and he leaned to Charlie kissing him on the lips.

Charlie was shocked, and quickly realized he was holding his breath. Then he reached out and held Ryan by the waist and kissed him back.

It went on forever or just a minute, Charlie had no idea, but Ryan pulled away and giggled making him do the same.

“Damn, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner,” said Ryan.

Charlie watched him cross the room, close the door and wedge a small sawhorse under the handle.

When Ryan came back to Charlie there was no hesitation this time. They kissed and touched and groped each other. Charlie felt his cock harden with Ryan’s manipulation, and in turn he felt Ryan’s cock harden to his manipulation. Then Ryan stooped in front of him. Closing his eyes, Charlie focused on the feel of lips touching his stomach, then a mouth feeling along his cock trapped in his cargo shorts.

Hands undid his shorts and soon everything was around his ankles and a hand was on his cock stroking it to full erection. A kiss, a lick, then lips slid down his cock until a nose pressed into his abdomen.

“Fuck,” said Charlie in a stifled utterance.

He held his head back as Ryan’s mouth moved on his cock. He tightened his grip on the edge of the workbench wondering how long he could hold out. His cock flexed in the warm slick mouth and his heart was racing.

“Ryan…Ryan, I’m getting close,” said Charlie.

Ryan pulled back and stood. Cargo shorts and boxers fell around his ankles, and he was stroking his cock. He stepped next to Charlie and leaned on the work bench bent at the waist.

“Charlie…I want to try.”

Charlie looked at the bare ass, appearing to glow in the darkness. The firm round ass cheeks were being spread by a hand on each one.

“Charlie.”

Charlie stopped staring and moved behind Ryan. He raked his cock across the ass, then rubbed it up and down the crevice spread wide. He shivered by the feel of it, then he moaned when Ryan pushed back against his cock. Ryan took his cock in hand and held it the tight opening Ryan desperately wanted penetrated.

“Come on Charlie; put it in me.”

Charlie pushed, slowly, feeling the squeeze on the head of his cock. Ryan shuddered as the head slipped into him. Charlie kept pushing inch after inch until half his cock in buried in Ryan’s ass. He took the narrow waist and held tight as he tugged his cock outward until just the head remained inside Ryan. A push inward, a tug outward, over and over, until he is fucking Ryan, fucking Ryan in that sweet round ass. He moaned and stifled the urge to cry out. He sped up, shoving cock deeper and deeper until he smacks hips against the ass. Then he slowed again, desperately wanting his first fuck to last.

“Fuck…Charlie, don’t stop.”

And Charlie doesn’t stop. Instead, he relished the feel of his cock slowly slipping through that tight ass. Inward until hips pressed against the ass, then the tug outward until his cock nearly slipped free. He loved the feel of it, how the tight ass gripped his cock as he pumped through it. He loved the way Ryan pushed back and moaned and grunted, far too loud he knew. If someone were to come…

Charlie doesn’t consider it as he tightened his hold on the waist and increased the pace of his fuck until hips hammer against the ass.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck,” Ryan uttered, his voice reverberating in the small room.

Charlie captured the tail of Ryan’s T-shirt between thumb and index fingers and slid his hand up the back following the spine. The T-shirt wadded up until bunched at the shoulders revealing the muscular back. Charlie leaned forward and pressed lips against it feeling the smooth skin and the heat radiating from it. And he ground his cock in Ryan’s ass and resumed their fuck.

Charlie is too close. He needs to cum. His body betrays him with every muscle tightened, his breathing ragged, and his cock suddenly so sensitive he can’t hold back. He slammed into Ryan’s ass and hammered hips against it until his cock erupt, pumping wad after wad into Ryan’s depths.

 

Charlie stepped back, cock still hard and dripping the last of its load. Ryan stood up revealing his cock is slimy from his own release, and like Charlie still fully erect.

“Damn, that was hot,” whispers Ryan.

“Ryan.”

“Yeah, Charlie?”

Ryan slowly strokes his slimy cock as Charlie watches, his own cock flexing up and down with his arousal.

“Will you do me?”

“Serious? You’ll let me?”

“Yes.”

Charlie moved next to Ryan and defiantly removed his own T-shirt laying it on the workbench. He stepped out of his shorts and boxers, and laid back on it and Ryan quickly moved between his legs taking each in hand. Knees up, spread wide apart, Charlie feels exposed, fully exposed, and it arouses him, makes him want to be fucked. Then he felt that wet cock touching his ass, rub across it, then up and down over his tight opening.

“Fuck; don’t tease me,” said Charlie.

A push, then another, and Charlies shivered with the feel of cock penetrating his virgin ass. His first cock. Ryan’s cock. He held his head up and watched Ryan as he penetrated. Ryan’s cock is thicker than his own, and he shudders and moans as it stretched his ass open. He feels the penetration, the fullness of it as Ryan pushed deeper and deeper until hips pressed against his ass.

“Goddamn, you have all of me,” said Ryan.

Ryan began to fuck with a slow deliberate pace, slowly increasing his pace until fucking hard, physically, hips smacking against ass. He pushed Charlie’s legs down until the thighs are tight to the chest and Ryan is leaned over him, as he just keeps fucking. Fucking to come, for he can’t hold back.

Charlie laid back, closed his eyes, and just took it, every thrust into his depths. He felt so aroused, so alive. He felt his masculine nature, how he could take a man’s cock and he wants it to continue. He wants Ryan to keep fucking, knowing it is an impossible wish.

“Fuck. Jesus. Take me…take me,” Ryan exclaimed.

Charlie felt the shift, the loss of rhythm, then the hammering of his ass as Ryan slammed into his depths pumping a load into him.

 

Charlie stood up, naked, hard and dripping. He started to stroke his cock to come again when Ryan knocked his hand away and stooped to take it in his mouth. Charlie moaned and pushed his cock into Ryan’s throat. Then he held still letting Ryan suck. He relished the feel of those lips moving on his cock. He shivered when the tongue worked the head. Then Ryan tugged his nuts until the pain mixed with the pleasure of the suck, and it pushed him over the edge.

“Fuck,” Charlie exclaimed, then he filled Ryan’s mouth with cum. He felt the swallowing around his cock, then the tongue wipe the head clean until he has to pull away, too sensitive for further stimulation.

“Goddamn, that was sweet,” whispered Ryan.

“Yeah,” whispered Charlie. 

 

They dress, giggling and watching the other conceal themselves with one article after the next until fully dressed. Once dressed Charlie followed Ryan through the dark barn back to the yard where he could see the bonfire was burned down low and about half of the group were gone, or somewhere making out. Crossing the yard, Charlie worried the smell of cum was on them, for he thought he could smell it.

“Did we miss anything,” said Ryan as he sat next to Amanda and Rachel.

Charlie sat next to Ryan looking around the circle at the empty chairs and those still occupied.

“Where did you guys go?” asked Amanda.

Charlie heard the accusatory tone.

“We were just poking around in the barn talking about this fall. Charlie will be at the university too,” said Ryan so nonchalantly it surprised Charlie.

“Why didn’t you say something, we could have tagged along too.”

“I didn’t think about it.”

“Charlie, are you all set for the fall?” Amanda asked, leaning forward to look around Ryan.

“Yes. I just need to buy a few things I’ll need in the dorm.”

“Hey, I do too. Maybe we can go together. There’s a store in—”

“We want to go,” Amanda interjects.

Charlie is honestly curious. He looked around Ryan to Amanda and Rachel.

“Are you going too? I didn’t know you would be there in the fall,” said Charlie.

“No, I’m not going,” said Amanda.

“Me either. I’ll be at the community college,” said Rachel.

“Oh,” said Charlie leaning back, realizing the situation. Amanda and Rachel wanted to be with Ryan, each one hoping Ryan would ask them out. He had seen the looks when they got back from the barn, and he now knew it as jealously. If they knew what had happened in the barn, he knew they really would have something to be jealous about.

When Amanda and Rachel went for something to drink, Charlie turned to Ryan.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you get the number for a support group at the university?”

Ryan smiled, looked over to make sure Amanda and Rachel were still at the coolers talking to Susan.

“Yes, but I lost it and never looked it up again. How did you know?”

“I found your note in the parking lot.”

Ryan laughed, drawing the attention of others, especially Amanda and Rachel. Then he leaned closer to Charlie.

“So, you knew someone else was gay but didn’t know who?”

“And it was driving me nuts trying to figure it out.”

“Well, now you know.”

 

Two more weeks passed, graduation came and went, and the hot days of summer settled over the community. Then two more weeks, until a month had gone by, then another, until August arrived. And all during the summer Charlie and Ryan found ways to get together, to be alone. When Ryan’s parents went away for a second honeymoon, Charlie spent nearly every day at Ryan’s house, and a few nights, fucking to the point of exhaustion. When Charlie’s parents went to visit friends in North Carolina, Ryan was at Charlie’s house, wearing each other out.

When it was time to move into the dorm on campus, Ryan and Charlie arrived together having followed each other to the university. They were in the same dorm, but on a different floor, Charlie in 324 and Ryan in 215. But to their way of thinking, close enough. Just one floor down.

Ryan found his roommate already moved in, bed made, clothes in the closet, and personal effects on one desk. He put his stuff away, then rushed up the stairs to the next floor, wondering if Charlie’s roommate was moved in, hoping not.

At 324, Ryan rapped on the door. The door quickly swung open with Charlie standing in just boxers with a toothbrush in hand.

“Sorry but I was wondering if your roommate had moved in,” said Ryan.

“No, not yet.”

“So, you’re alone.”

Charlie smiled, knowing what Ryan wanted. He stepped back and watched Ryan close and lock the door.

“Let me finish brushing my teeth,” said Charlie, going into the small bathroom he shared with 323.

In the bathroom, Charlie looked in the mirror seeing the teenager that wasn’t so naïve. He looked at himself and smiled, knowing he wasn’t so skinny, that he wasn’t so different from a lot of other guys, not in build, but sexually he was different than most. But he was like Ryan, and they had found each other just before graduation. He rinsed his mouth, put the toothbrush away, and went back into his room.

Ryan lay on his bed, naked and half aroused. Charlie pushed his boxers down letting them fall around his ankles. He stepped out of them and to Ryan, who sat up on the edge of his bed.

“Come here and let me suck that dick,” said Ryan smiling goofily up at Charlie.

Charlie smiled, moved up between Ryan’s legs, and closed his eyes as his cock was engulfed. It hardened quickly with the manipulation. The feel of lips and tongue were always arousing, and he started working his hips.

“Charlie.”

Charlie opened his eyes to see Ryan laid back and holding his legs up. Charlies moved over him, raking a hand up the thigh, by the hardening cock, over the stomach feeling its undulation, and over the chest as he leaned down bringing their lips together. He pumped his cock along side of Ryan’s, then pumped it down below the nuts rubbing over the spread ass.

“Fuck, Charlie, put it me.”

A hand took Charlie’s cock and held it in place. Charlie pushed until he felt the head of his cock squeeze through the tightness. Hands held his waist, fingers digging into his sides as he pushed deeper and deeper.

Charlie soon settled into a fuck. A slow steady rhythm that pushed their aroused state. The bed softly squeaked as Charlie fucked Ryan’s ass. He fucked until his muscles burned, then he slipped out of Ryan, rolled to the side on his back. Without a word, he watched Ryan climb over his waist and ease down on his cock. As Ryan rode his cock, he manipulated Ryan’s cock. He toyed with the head, smearing its slick, then he stroked it as best he could as Ryan moved up and down. He knew it would push him over the edge first. Being fucked and cock manipulated at the same time always made Ryan come first.

“Shit…Charlie,” exclaimed Ryan.

Charlie felt the eruption of cum. Ropes of it landed on his chest up to his neck, then it rained down on his stomach. It was a trigger, one that would make him cum. The smell of Ryan’s, the feel of the ass on his cock, and he pushed upward and shivered with his release.

 

The shower was large enough for the two of them and Charlie held his head under the spray as Ryan pressed against his back and kissed his neck. He felt Ryan’s cock nestled between his ass cheeks, the rock-hard shaft moving in that familiar way. Ryan pulled him from the spray, and he braced himself against the tile wall, feet back and spread. Cock raked up and down his ass, then it pushed through his tightness making him moan.

“Fuck,” Ryan exclaimed.

Forehead against the cool tile, Charlie relished the feel of cock boring into his depths until hips pressed against his ass. Ryan held his waist and fucked. Fucked in the way he loved, a physical hard fuck that hammered his ass and gave him the fullness of penetration. Ryan increased the pace of his fuck, faster and faster until smacking against Charlie’s ass.

Charlie stroked his own cock, pushing the state of his arousal. As Ryan’s cock pumped into his depths, and he kept pace.

“Ryan…fuck…fuck, fuck,” Charlie uttered breathlessly.

Ryan slammed into his ass and kept jamming hips against it and he knew Ryan was coming again. He angled his head back and cried out as he sprayed the wall with his own load.

 

Ryan finished tying his shoes and sat up as Charlie pulled his T-shirt into place. Suddenly someone was unlocking the door. The lever turned and the door swung open.

“Hey, I’m Gabriel, one of you must be Charlie?”

“I’m Charlie, and this is Ryan.”

“Great…nice to finally meet you.”