Kamikaze Boys

by Jay Bell

  “Exactly,” David said, “but I let it look like my asshole stepfather is the one with all the cash.”

  “What’s he do?”

  “Drug dealer at a pharmacy. Bible thumper on his days off.”

  They left the car, David leading them to the front door where he rang the doorbell, just to be safe. He stared at the wooden custom sign hanging on the door, painted butterflies surrounding colorful letters that spelled out “Sharon and Jeff Perkins welcome you!” David wondered, had he chosen to live with his mother all those years ago, if his name would be up there as well.

  When no movement came from inside, he unlocked the door. He and Connor entered quietly. Walking through the entryway, they passed a dining room on the right and a family room on the left to reach an open, two-story living room. Most of it bore his mother’s mark, from the fake floral arrangement on the fireplace mantel to the couch covered in small delicate pillows with sayings stitched on them. The large screen television was all Jeff, though.

  “Nice,” Connor said.

  “Is it?” David recognized that everything in the room cost money, but none of it had ever felt comfortable. The condo where he lived with his dad was simple, but at least it was paid off and small enough to be energy-efficient. At least, that’s what his dad always said when the subject of this house came up, but now David felt like agreeing with him.

  “Not a bad movie collection.”

  Connor was browsing a shelf full of films that David’s mother had tried to hide behind painted flower pots with fake birds perched on their edges. As cheesy as he found her decorating style, such frilly items reminded him of what was missing from home.

  “After we look around, we can watch something if you want,” David said. Still a little nervous, he felt the need to make sure no one was home. He and Connor toured the house, but he didn’t have much to say about it. David felt like a stranger here. He visited only on the occasional holiday. Normally, to avoid Jeff, he asked his mother to pick him up and take him out somewhere.

  “The way you described your stepdad,” Connor said as they headed back to the living room, “I expected to find a painting of Jesus in every room.”

  David frowned. “Jesus is probably too progressive for Jeff. He’s definitely an Old Testament guy.”

  “You don’t get along?”

  David shook his head. “It’s the whole gay thing.”

  “Ah.” Connor plopped down on the couch, spreading his arms wide. David hurried to put in a movie so he could feel one of those arms around him. “And your mother? Is she okay with you?”

  “She doesn’t tell me it’s wrong, but she doesn’t argue the point with Jeff either. I try not to care. He’s not my dad, and I’m lucky my real parents don’t have a problem with it. So are you.”

  “Absolutely.” Connor cocked his head. “Of course, my sister helped pave the way. She’s a dyke.”

  David blanched. “Are you supposed to say that?”

  Connor shrugged. “That’s what she calls herself. She’s pretty intense. Too bad you can’t meet her. She moved to Florida last year to be with her girlfriend. Anyway, being second to come out in the family is easier, although I think Mom is secretly desperate for Tommy to be straight, if only for the grandkids.”

  David returned to the couch, sitting further away from Connor than he intended. He wanted to be cuddled up against him, but still wasn’t sure how to make the move. Instead he fiddled with the remotes until the movie started.

  The movie was Rear Window, his favorite from Hitchcock. As they watched it together, he thought he understood why. James Stewart plays a photographer with a broken leg, cooped up inside his apartment. Out of boredom, he starts spying on his neighbors and sees strange events that make him believe he witnessed a murder. In a way, it was the perfect metaphor for David’s life. He felt trapped in Kansas, unable to move freely, while convinced life was more exciting outside the state. Maybe, like Jimmy Stewart’s character, David should find an excuse to leave. Anything, no matter how dangerous, just to get away from here.

  Feeling brave with this realization, he leaned into Connor, rewarded when the arm came off the couch’s back to wrap around him. David barely paid attention to the rest of the movie, focusing instead on the warmth where their bodies met or the feeling of Connor’s strong hand on his shoulder. When the movie ended, David didn’t want to move, but his stomach grumbled loudly.

  “Me too,” Connor said. “Think we can raid the fridge?”

  “Yeah.”

  Of course this would leave evidence of someone having been here, but David wanted to make Connor happy. The kitchen seemed much larger than two people needed. Maybe his mom and Jeff used every inch of available counter space for huge dinner parties. He wasn’t even sure which of them cooked. He felt a surge of guilt for knowing so little about his mom’s new life, but she wasn’t particularly involved with his, either.

  David went straight for the freezer, searching for frozen burritos or pizzas. Connor, looking over his shoulder, reached in and grabbed some ground beef.

  “This has potential.”

  “It does?”

  “Yeah. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?” Connor bared his teeth. “I’m a rabid carnivore.”

  David closed the freezer. “I eat meat, but I don’t know how to cook it.”

  “Leave it to me.” Connor popped the meat in the microwave to defrost. David expected they would grill burgers in the backyard, but Connor started pulling other ingredients out of the pantry and refrigerator: macaroni, a can of tomatoes, a bell pepper, onions, cheese. He waited for Connor to make a face, like he was kidding around, but instead he started hunting for pots and pans.

  “You know how to cook?” David asked.

  Connor lowered his brow. “Either that, or I’m about to start juggling.”

  David stared in awe as Connor diced an onion. He wasn’t quite as good as the TV chefs, but David couldn’t even peel an onion. At least, he had never tried.

  “Did you learn this working at McDonald’s?”

  Connor snorted. “Trust me. Everything at McDonald’s comes out of cardboard boxes. My sister taught me most of this. She had to take care of me and Tommy when we were younger and is a health nut, so she hates prepackaged food. She used to put on a show while she cooked, I guess to keep us occupied while she did what she needed to, but after awhile she figured out we could be helpers.”

  “So Tommy can cook too?”

  “Ha! No, but if you need something stirred, he’s your man. Are you sure these things won’t be missed?”

  David thought they probably would, but he didn’t think his mom would call the police over ground beef, or suspect David of whipping up a meal. “It’s fine. Anything I can do?”

  “Just stand there looking pretty. It motivates me. Oh, maybe grab some drinks and set the table.”

  He should film this—Connor the psychopath tossing macaroni into boiling water with one hand while shaking a pan of frying onions with the other. Then everybody would see how wrong they had been about him.

  “Goulash,” Connor said later when he placed two plates on the table. “I have no idea what that is or if this is it, but goulash is what my sister calls it.”

  It looked like beef and macaroni in tomato sauce, and after years of eating his father’s generic pasta creations, David thought it tasted exquisite.

  “You should work in a real kitchen,” David said. “I’d pay money for this. If I had any.”

  “I think you have to go to culinary school for something like that.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  Connor looked surprised. “Honestly, I’ve never thought about it. I just cook occasionally for my family when the mood strikes. I guess it’d be better than flipping burgers. What about you? Any big career plans?”

  David shrugged. “Travelling salesman, Greyhound bus driver, cruise ship janitor, border drug runner, anything like that.”

  Connor chewed in silence for a moment before he
understood. “Travel?”

  “Yeah. I have no idea what I want to do, but whatever it is, it won’t be in Kansas.”

  “People are people,” Connor said.

  “You mean it won’t be better anywhere else? Maybe. I’d like a chance to find out.”

  Once they finished eating, David jumped up to wash the dishes, eager to show Connor he wasn’t completely helpless in the kitchen. He did his best to put everything back where it belonged, chuckling over the thought of wiping down the pots to eliminate fingerprints. He even did the dishes by hand so they wouldn’t be in the dishwasher. When the kitchen was restored, he turned around and glimpsed the trees beyond the backyard.

  David yearned to be out there. This house, with its quiet established style of living, wasn’t what he and Connor were about. They didn’t belong here. He would rather be outside, running through the woods like the lost boys that they were.

  He turned to Connor, who was watching him as if waiting for David to speak his thoughts.

  “Let’s go for a walk.”

  Chapter Eight

  Shawnee Mission Park functioned as an oasis of nature in a land of strip malls and highways. David and Gordon ventured there occasionally, most recently after watching YouTube videos of people live action role-playing while dressed up Renaissance style. This looked like good nerdy fun, so they had given it a shot. Gordon had been serious about it, but David hadn’t been able to stop laughing, so the expedition hadn’t exactly been a success.

  The park spread out around Shawnee Mission Lake, a body of water large enough for sailing that took about twenty minutes to circle around at the speed limit. David asked Connor to drive to the mountain bike trails at the northern part of the lake. Paved paths for pedestrians existed elsewhere, but David preferred the more natural dirt trails.

  “Last time I was here was with Tommy,” Connor said as he parked the car. “I let him run all over the paths until he wore himself out. Of course by the time we drove home, he was hyper again.”

  The parking lot was mostly empty, which meant they would have privacy. David breathed in the fresh air once out of the car, wishing the entire world consisted only of him and Connor. As if reading his thoughts, Connor took his hand, and when they reached the shelter of the trees, he stopped David to kiss him.

  Suddenly David wished they hadn’t left his mom’s house. As unappealing as that environment had been, at least the house provided enough privacy for something more to happen. The idea intimidated him. He didn’t know if Connor had slept with other guys, but David’s experience began and ended with kissing Connor. Regardless, he wanted more to happen between them, but wished he could take a training course first—Gay Sex 101 or something.

  In the green light of the woods, David found himself relaxing, feeling like he had escaped into a fairytale where all the troubles of the real world faded away. The sound of cars receded the farther they walked, replaced by the bird chatter and creatures foraging through the underbrush.

  “You like it here,” Connor said.

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “Because you’re usually tense, like you’re waiting for something to explode.”

  David shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t mean to look that way.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just weird since you’re strong.”

  David glanced over at Connor in disbelief. “I’m not strong.”

  “Really? Are you ashamed of being gay?”

  David increased his grip on Connor’s hand. “Not at all!”

  “There you go. People are always giving you shit for being gay, but you’re not in the closet, and you don’t let them make you feel ashamed.”

  “They still make me miserable,” David said. “If I pretended to be straight, I’d be even more unhappy. Believe me, people like Chuck get to me. Sometimes I can barely sleep at night.”

  Connor wasn’t willing to give up. “Taking all that abuse though, not letting it break you. That’s strength.”

  “Maybe. Sounds more like endurance to me. This is strength.” David’s hand slipped away from Connor’s and moved up his bicep. Connor flexed it, and they both laughed, although David was impressed as well.

  Their hike continued north, the occasional bicycle rider passing them. They would step aside to let the rider pass, but never let go of each other. One biker kept his head forward but strained to see out of the corner of his eye as he passed. An hour later and the paths ended, leaving them to slowly pick their way through the trees. They went far enough into the woods that David wondered if they would find their way back again. Finally, the trees gave way to water and they could go no farther.

  A creek wound through the land, filling the air with burbles. On the other side was a line of trees, beyond which a large open field was barely visible. They walked along the creek until they found a patch of bare earth where they could sit, David’s feet hot and sore from the hike. He kicked off his shoes before sitting cross-legged on the ground. As soon as he did, Connor leaned over and plopped his head in his lap, an expectant grin on his face. He closed his eyes when David began stroking his face, sighing contentedly.

  David moved his fingers over Connor’s cheek bones, toyed with his ears, and then moved his fingers down to his neck. The scar was flat, a pinkish-white line running from below his ear to just above his Adam’s apple. Now that David knew the reasons behind it weren’t sinister, he thought it looked kind of cool.

  “Can I touch it?”

  Connor’s eyes shot open, searching David’s for a moment. “Go ahead. It doesn’t hurt.”

  David brushed his finger up and down the scar, stroking it as if he could erase it with his touch. The skin was smooth, stubble unable to grow there.

  They sat together for some time, listening to the water flow and the light breeze that tickled the trees. David eyed Connor’s chest, wanting to touch it but worried about leaning forward. What if Connor noticed how hard he was? If Connor moved his head, even an inch, his erection would be obvious. But the temptation was too great, so David very carefully leaned forward, running his hands over the strong pecs and leaving one hand there with fingers splayed. He wanted to keep moving that hand, to slide it below Connor’s shirt to touch skin against skin, but was already too turned on.

  “I wish I was more like you,” David murmured.

  This puzzled Connor. “You can start doing pushups if you want, but I like you the way you are.”

  “No, not that. I wish I was brave like you. You never seem afraid.”

  “Then start now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  David started to move his hand away, but Connor grabbed his wrist to keep his hand where it was. “Being brave is just doing whatever the hell you want, no matter how bad it scares you. What do you want to do now?” Connor moved his other hand to touch David’s lips with the back of his fingers. “Whatever it is, do it instead of just saying it.”

  That was all the encouragement he needed. David grabbed Connor’s T-shirt and tugged upwards.

  Connor grinned. “You want me to take this off?”

  David nodded and smiled, not speaking a word. This could be fun! Connor sat up on his knees and stripped off his shirt before turning around to face him. David stared at the light dusting of blonde chest hair, the half-dozen small scars on his left shoulder, and the muscles that made him look like a man where David still felt like a boy. He wanted to press himself against that body, to feel its strength directly, but that would reveal the hard-on straining against his jeans. He glanced down to see that Connor was in the same condition.

  Be brave. David rose up on his knees, and Connor met him halfway, their lips crashing together. Connor’s fingers slipped into David’s hair, and he pressed his mouth even closer, their tongues dancing. Moving his hands over Connor’s chest, David almost whimpered in bliss. This is what he had fantasized about so often. Always it had seemed like an impossible dream, but here he was with another guy, touching and tastin
g—and it was better than he imagined.

  He pulled away to kiss the scar on Connor’s neck, then those on his left shoulder, but he wanted something desperately more. His hands moved to Connor’s hips, gripped tightly, and pulled upward.

  Connor understood the signal. He stood, not moving away from David and leaving him eye level with his crotch. David glanced up at Connor, who held both his hands up in surrender. Then David tore at the zipper of his jeans, barely glancing at the tighty-whiteys before yanking them down. Freed, Connor’s cock flexed, already awe-inspiring as it swelled further. David could have sat and stared at it all day. Sure, he had one of his own, but that didn’t decrease the fascination of seeing the subtle differences in thickness and length.

  Then David’s fantasies came roaring back and he took it in his mouth. Too carelessly at first because he gagged, but he did his best to adjust. He was doing well enough to make Connor moan when he accidentally nicked him with his teeth, Connor flinching. David pulled it out of his mouth to mumble an apology, but Connor only smiled and helped him to his feet.

  “Take it easy,” he said. “There’s no rush.”

  “Sorry,” David said again.

  Connor kissed him and started lifting his shirt, but David pulled away, suddenly uncomfortable. Connor’s build was incredible, exactly the kind he wished he had. David’s body was just skinny. He couldn’t imagine that Connor would like what he saw, so he grasped for an excuse.

  “We could be seen,” he said.

  “Oh, I understand!” Connor laughed. “You’ve got me nearly naked in the woods, and that’s fine, but I can’t do the same to you!”

  “You said to do whatever I want,” David teased.

  “And I plan to do the same.” Connor kissed him once more before pulling David’s shirt up and off, this time without any resistance. Then Connor stepped back and looked David over. By some miracle, his eyes filled with even more lust. He pulled David close, kissing his neck, arms, nipples, and stomach. David’s back arched with pleasure, and Connor hadn’t even touched his dick yet. He soon rectified this, working at getting David’s jeans open while kissing his neck. As soon as it was out in the open, Connor fell to his knees, and David’s world became a blur of pleasure. He tried his best to hold back his moans but failed, feeling everything building to a peak much too quickly.