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Bryce boops my nose. "You’re really getting the hang of this."
The rally starts, and we lose ourselves in it, ignoring the intolerant assholes around us. They’re so homophobic.
Halfway through, our haters realize that we’re just like them, except a little different.
They quit heckling us and apologize for being mean.
They say that it looks like me and my Daddy have a wonderful relationship.
They say that love is love regardless of size, gender, or age.
I’m happy everyone’s so tolerant at the monster truck rally.
Bryce gives me an entire can of Mountain Dew. "For you."
This might as well be the holy host.
I take it in my trembling hands, trying to suck in air so I don’t collapse. "R-Really?"
Bryce lifts my chin up. "You’re such a strong, beautiful working man. I’m in love with you, and while you can’t drink a full can of Dew every day, today is special. You’re one of us, BJ."
The working guys around us cheer as I crack open the can and take my first sip.
I set it down, then burp and quickly wipe my lips on Bryce’s checkered shirt. "I don't even need the whole can. The gesture is enough."
We watch trucks roar, pop wheelies, and charge through the dirt. They fly off ramps and smash down beside red, white, and blue American flags.
Bryce tugs out miniature Hot Wheels for me. "Show me how the trucks zoom."
I zoom my own little trucks around me and Bryce’s laps, reenacting the fun. With every passing second, I feel more and more like myself.
I used to be too puny and pathetic to do working man things.
Now, I’m at a monster truck rally—and I’m even driving my own trucks, in a way.
The working guys smile at me. "I think all of us turned gay tonight and want a boy like BJ."
Two of the working guys leap at each other. They rip off each other’s shirt, then kiss on the seats. The sexy, sinewy one on top rocks against the burly bottom’s waist, canting his hips hard against him. Their chest hair and muscles grind tighter, sweat squelching between their bodies. Their hard bulges ache in their blue jeans, straining at the seam.
"I’ve wanted you since we graduated construction school," the burly bottom growls.
The top sucks his lower lip. "Put your digger in me."
The bottom one unzips himself and produces the thickest shaft besides Bryce’s that I’ve ever seen. It has skin on the tip, and this is so freaky that I scream and hug Bryce. "Something’s wrong with his dick!"
Bryce laughs as he protects me in his arms. "Oh, he’s just uncut. That’s how all dicks are in the wild."
My brow furrows. "Not mine."
"That’s how it would’ve looked if you weren’t circumcised."
I try to say this word, but it has too many letters. "Cir-cum-cisssss-ed."
Bryce chuckles as he pats my shoulder. "Let’s focus on the trucks. Let my crazy workers do what they do best."
Everyone around the two workers who are falling in love is super supportive of them. They ooh and ahh, and even throw M&M’s on their sweaty, thrusting bodies as if the candies are rose petals.
I didn’t expect the monster truck rally to be so accepting and tolerant of the LGBTQ+ community, but I’m glad that it is.
