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We come at the same time, both choking a little, struggling to swallow. Then we’re pulling off each other, laughing our damn asses off.
“Oh fuck,” I say, dizzy as I sit up. “We’re late.”
“Let’s get in together,” he says. “I won’t wash my hair, so when your mom wonders who she heard in the shower, she’ll think it was just you in there.”
We do that, and he gives me a smile in there that makes me think that this could have a happy ending. Before parting ways in the bathroom, we kiss again—another long, deep, hot tongue kiss that gets my dick tenting my towel.
Ten minutes later, we’re in his Jeep, and he’s looking at me like no one ever has. I can’t take my eyes off him, either. He parks, and I grab his hand. I lean down so I can kiss his palm, and I smile up at him. He’s cheesin’ down at me. “Take care of yourself today,” I tell him. I squeeze his thigh, and Ezra’s eyes well up a little.
“You take care of yourself,” he says. “Let’s leave for lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
One more hand squeeze, and we’re out of the Jeep, going separate ways. I feel like my heart’s sprouted legs and walked off. It’s a weird and nervous empty sort of feeling. And I think I sort of fucking love it.
Twenty
Josh
It’s Saturday, and my mom’s cousin Barbara, who lives down in Andalusia, is having her fiftieth birthday party tonight. Barbara’s birthday, and the four hours between Fairplay and Andalusia, mean Mom and Carl are gone before we wake up. Ezra and I both had a bye week this week from football and soccer—which means we stayed up late last night watching the Godfather movies and playing with each other’s dicks and slept like the dead, both in my room.
When I open my eyes, I’m sprawled on my stomach, and Ez is on me like a cape. He’s got one arm slung around my shoulders and another shoved under my pecs. I crack one eye open, smiling into my pillow as I realize he’s lying on his side hugging me, with both of his legs sandwiching my right one.
When I roll over, I find him wearing a sleepy smile.
“Hey there, angel.”
He brushes his lips over my temple. “Hey yourself. Sorry I was on top of you.”
“My favorite way to wake up.”
We smile at each other. His is tentative but sincere. I can tell it’s a little bit of a reach for him sometimes, still, with me. Like it takes a lot to put himself out there. But he keeps doing it, and I keep loving every second of it.
He shifts his hips, and my eyes go to his morning wood. “Fuck,” he murmurs.
He lies out on his back, and now he’s rubbing his erection. I adopt the same pose.
“I could help you with that.” He grins, angling his body toward me.
“I could help you.”
We start jerking one another, and we’re both so hard that by the time I think we should be sixty-nining it, my balls are drawn up and he’s blowing all over my hand, and then I’m spraying jizz all over his.
“You wanna get a shower?” I laugh.
He flops onto his back, tilting his head toward me. For a second, he’s just smiling at me. Looking into my eyes.
“Nah,” he says. “Let’s get a towel or something. I’m hungry as fuck.”
“I know something perfect,” I say, swiping a towel I’ve got folded in my nightstand drawer for just this reason. “You like bacon, right?”
He nods as I clean both of us up.
“Pimento cheese?”
“I think.” He frowns.
“Biscuits?” I ask.
He nods, still looking slightly puzzled.
I thump his abs. “Get dressed. I’m about to blow your mind. We’ll pick up our food from this shack in the middle of nowhere and I’ll take you somewhere quirky and small-town to eat it.”
“Will we be the only people there?” he asks me.
I nod. “Just us, the birds and the ants and the grasshoppers, and maybe a ghost or two.”
He laughs. “Sold.”
Ezra
It's kind of fun to drive Mills' little white car. Even though I’m fucking zonked out from the football game, I feel happy in the car with Miller, both our windows cracked, our hands linked in Mills’ lap. We rib each other about nothing in particular the whole way out to this country road where Miller claims that there's a trailer on the edge of a field selling greasy breakfast food and pecans.
“Hang a left here onto this dirt road,” he tells me after a while.
The narrow, hard-packed, red dirt road cuts through thick pine forest. We pass mailboxes sometimes, set atop stumps or even nailed to tree trunks. I feel like I’ve been driving for miles.
"Lookin' a little murdery,” I tease.
"Murder for your taste buds,” he says.
