Open Roads

...Outside, I told Noel to open the back door of the Rambler so I could stow the pie on the floor. Our bodies brushed, hip against hip, as I leaned past him. I heard the sharp intake of breath as he jumped, and felt his heat when he seized the moment and pressed the long length of his muscled thigh to mine. My mouth went dry, but I didn’t need to speak.

Hidden from public view by our bodies and the car, Noel’s hand stroked across my ribs and came to a stop as his strong fingers gripped my waist. I had my hands full, carefully securing the pie for the ride home. His pelvis bumped my ass, a quick thrust that almost knocked my head against the doorframe. My cock hardened in a rush, straining within its denim prison.

“That’s what you get for bending over in front of me, you little tease.”

I wiggled my butt, and he smacked it, hard. I straightened and turned around, grinning at him.

I looked down. He looked down. Noel returned my grin. His gray eyes gleamed in the sunlight as his pink tongue licked his full, rosy lips.

“Seven-and-a-half, cut.”

The tip of my tongue made a lazy swipe across my upper lip. “Eight. Cut.”

Noel narrowed his eyes. “Top or bottom?”

I grasped his hips, not caring if the whole town buzzed it up on the gossip chain by sundown. “You’re too eager.”

He glanced down at my bulging zipper a second time. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“You know, Noel, I don’t want to get all stupid with you. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your misfortune on the highway.”

“I know, Tyler. And I don’t want you to think I ever planned to abuse your hospitality. This is just one night. Maybe a little friendly companionship, provided…”

I nodded. “I’m HIV negative, but I insist we keep it safe.”

“I’m negative, too, and yes, it’s condoms or nothing because I’ve had one scare and I don’t want another one.”

He moved to kiss me, and I jerked away. He looked surprised.

“Sorry, Noel.” Kissing on Main Street might be a bit too much for the neighbors whose good will supported my standard of living. “I keep my private life low profile.”

“Of course. I’m out, and I guess I thought you were, too.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m in sort of a limbo. I don’t care if people know, but this is a small town. I don’t flaunt it in public, but in truth, around here, neither do straight lovers.”

“Got it. When in Rome.” He backed away, his expression unreadable as he climbed into the car.

Maybe I’d tripped some trigger of his, or not, but I’d figure it out when we got to my place. Insides quivering with anticipation, I headed out of town.

Noel remained silent for the remainder of the drive to my home, at least until I turned onto the long gravel lane that led to the two-story frame farmhouse. He shifted in his seat and fixed that clear gray gaze on me in an incredulous stare.

“Excuse me for asking, but what the hell is a good looking stud like you doing out here in bum-fuck middle America, working as a grease monkey, and living on a farm, for God’s sake!”

The answer that filled my being came out of the still darkness of countless solitary nights.

Waiting for you...