by Todd Young
He got up, had some cereal and some fruit, and then decided to train. He often trained in the afternoons, but it was raining now. Maybe later it’d be fine.
By the time he finished, more than an hour later, he was breathing heavily. He felt like a cigarette, but it then occurred to him that he hadn’t smoked a cigarette since Ed had disconnected the fire alarm. Maybe he could give them up. It’d been days, and he hadn’t even thought of it.
He walked into the kitchen and checked to see if the cartons he’d bought were in the cupboard. They were just where he’d left them, but he hadn’t even been thinking about it. Maybe he could have one more, just one more, and then say that was it. He steadied his breathing and opened a new pack. His tore the foil away and then raised the pack to his nose. It smelled disgusting.
He frowned, and put them back into the cupboard.
“There,” he said, speaking to Tina as he sometimes did. “I’ve given them up.”
She failed to answer him, which was unusual, but it occurred to him suddenly that he hated her and always had. And wasn’t it crazy to be speaking to her? The stupid bitch. Even so, she’d done a lot for him, getting him off the coffee and the alcohol, and now it looked as though he’d beaten the smokes as well.
He felt like celebrating, and at that moment, the rain stopped. It was suddenly quiet, and then the sun came out, shining brightly on the grass beyond the window.
Wow, he thought. It was like a sign. He bundled all the cartons of cigarettes into a number of plastic bags, tied them tightly, and then found his ashtray, which for some reason was in the fridge. He stuffed it all into the trash and dusted his hands off. That was it, then. Smoking was over.
[] [] []
He walked through the house with his hands behind his head feeling ecstatic. The last thing in his life, the last thing that had been troubling him, was truly done with. And if the sun kept shining, he’d be able to go down to the stream and have a swim.
He turned, suddenly aware of someone behind him, and then jumped as he saw Ben. He put his hand on his throat.
“The door was open,” Ben said.
“The door?”
“The back door.”
“Oh — right.” Even so, you didn’t just walk into somebody’s house. And James was wearing underwear, that red pair of bikini briefs with the hole in the rear.
Ben didn’t seem to care. He walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.
“I came to ask you something,” he said. “The mountain. How would you feel about climbing it?”
“Climbing it?”
“Yeah. I did it when I was sixteen, but that was years ago. I thought we could make a day of it. If you start early, you’ve got just enough time to get up and back.”
This was the friend thing again. James made a face.
“You don’t want to?”
“No … I mean, maybe.” He was interested. He liked challenges. It was just how close Ben and he were getting. He’d come here to get away from everyone, from all his old associations in New York, and now here he was, making a friend.
“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
“No, I’d like to,” James said, surprising himself.
Then he took a seat at the table. His cock was lengthening in the skimpy underwear, and he had to do something to hide it. He locked his hands between his thighs, but now, being closer, he could smell Ben again. He hadn’t changed since last night — hadn’t changed his shirt since the night of the party, and those must be the same short shorts he’d been wearing yesterday. No underwear apparently.
James decided to look. He knocked a fork off the table, and then bent down to retrieve it. From under the table, he could see Ben’s cock held loosely on one side of his shorts. It was just about hanging out of the end. He put the fork back on the table and blushed. Now his cock was hard, really hard, and jutting out of the waistband of his bikini briefs.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You look like you swallowed a goat.”
James smiled.
“You know, you’re really beautiful.”
“What?”
Ben waved his hand in front of his face, as though he’d said something he badly regretted. He coughed, and turned his head away.
Beautiful? Had he really just said that? Maybe James had misheard, though it wasn’t the first time someone had said it to him. Tina used to say it, but hell, fuck Tina! He was sick of thinking about her.
“So, we’ll go tomorrow?” Ben said, himself all over again.
“Tomorrow?”
“To the mountain.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay.” He nodded, feeling suddenly elated, though when he felt like this it troubled him. These sudden mood swings were the bipolar disorder, if that really was a disease, and he doubted that. No. He was simply feeling good. Everything was working out just fine.
Ben got up from the table but James couldn’t. He’d just managed to get his dick back under his waistband.
“Swimming today?” Ben said.
“Yeah. If it stays sunny. I’ll probably go down in an hour or so.”
“If I didn’t have to work, I’d join you.”
James nodded and shuffled his chair a little closer to the table. He wondered for a moment what it’d be like to swim with Ben, to swim with Ben naked, and then dismissed the idea. He wouldn’t be swimming naked, not if Ben was there.
“How does five thirty sound?”
“Five thirty?”
“In the morning. We’ll have to get an early start.”
“Oh, yeah. Yes. Sure. I’ll be ready at five thirty.”
“Make sure to bring something warm. It’ll be freezing up there.”
James nodded, concerned now about the way Ben was making his way around the table. He shuffled even closer and Ben laughed.
“You’re not getting up?”
“No. You came in on your own. I guess you can go out that way too.”
[] [] []
As soon as Ben had left, James pulled his underwear down to his thighs and jacked off. After the dream this morning, he really wanted to punch himself in the balls, but he held off, and when he came it felt just fine. No sick feeling afterwards. No pain in the guts.
He wiped the cum all over his thighs and stomach, massaging it into the skin. He’d heard it was good for you, good for your skin, a kind of natural moisturizer. Then he got up from the table and pulled his underwear up. It really was pretty useless. The waistband was losing all elasticity, and the hole in the rear was as big as a tennis ball. He’d have to throw them away, but they were his favorite pair, and had been long since before he’d met Tina.
Hell, Tina. He’d really have to stop thinking about her. It hadn’t been a good relationship. He hadn’t liked her, and certainly hadn’t loved her. A couple of times he’d even hit her, which had shamed him utterly.
If his mother knew that — well, he wouldn’t know what she’d say. She blow up though, and hit him no doubt. That was all right, apparently. She’d been hitting him all his life.
[] [] []
He waited an hour and then went down to the stream. As he was crossing the cow paddock, a cow lowed at him, and he got a shock. He jumped, and hurried forward.
It really was hot after the rain this morning, the ground wet and steam rising. It would be great to get into the stream. The only thing was, Ben had said he had to work, which would mean no fooling around. If it was fooling around. If Ben really ever had been in that tree, and as he thought of Ben sitting at the kitchen table this morning, he realized how unlikely it was. No, he was imagining the whole thing. But where was the harm in that. He supposed today, if he wanted to, he could just as easily imagine Ben in the tree. Though he’d like to see what those old pair of jeans were. He could climb the tree he supposed. It hung right out over the river. But that would spoil things. No, it was better to imagine things as they were.
Had Ben really said he was beautiful? He guessed
he had. But where had that come from? It was a pretty strange thing for one guy to say to another. But then — it was a horrible thought — but maybe Ben was a fag. At the thought of it, he lowered his brows and punched one fist into the other. If that was what all of this was about — Ben’s friendliness and so on — then Ben had better watch out. James could fight if he had to, and he’d fight any gay guy who tried it on with him. It had happened once before when he was fourteen or so. In a public restroom, a gay guy had leaned forward and touched his cock. James had punched him and the guy had fallen into the urinal. Later, he’d laughed about it with his friends, but it had disturbed him.
Since then, he’d always had a thing about gay people, about the way they had sick sex with one another. Everyone seemed to think it was all right, and now they could even marry and have children. But James hated to think of it. What of the kids, and what were they doing to them?
He’d worn shorts today, but as he was nearing the stream, he spotted Ben in the tree. He wasn’t wearing jeans — just the same old shorts he’d been wearing this morning. So that was it, then. Ben really had been watching him, and would be watching him again today. And just this morning he’d said he was beautiful. Ben wasn’t bad looking either, but as James turned his head away from the tree, he felt his heart start up, pounding in his chest. His breathing came raggedly, and he had to sit down on the grass. It took fifteen minutes or so for him to work up the courage to take his clothes off. He considered swimming in his underwear, but he still had the same red pair on, and they were useless.
He peeled his T-shirt off and then lay on the grass on his stomach. Five minutes later he got up again, took his shorts and underwear down and stepped into the water naked. He could barely control his breathing, and his heart was thumping like mad. He waded out to the center and ducked under. Then he came up and swooshed his hair over his head. It was difficult not to look up at Ben. Now that he really knew he was there, things had somehow changed. It wasn’t so much of a game anymore, or it was more of a game.
He put on the best show he’d put on so far, duck diving, breast stroking, freestyling, and even climbing out of the stream on the other side a couple of times and picking his way into the forest naked. Then he knew he had to jack off. Ben would expect it, and he could hardly hold himself back.
He sat where he’d sat the other day, knowing Ben was a mere fifteen feet away, hanging over him. He started jacking off, and then saw the lump of obsidian, right where he’d left it. Hell, he’d use it, he thought. He’d do it five times. That would show Ben.
He got himself to the point where he thought something might soon happen, and then hefted the obsidian into his nuts five times, each time a little harder. As he hit himself the final time, he came, the first time he’d ever achieved this when he was hitting his nuts. He threw his head back and groaned, and through the slits of his eyes caught the merest glimpse of Ben in the tree, hidden in the thick foliage.
Then he felt like shit. He got up quickly and waded out of the pool. He didn’t bother about his underwear or his T-shirt. He pulled his shorts on, picked his T-shirt up, and left his underwear where it was. It was useless anyway.
By the time he reached home he was crying. He felt sick in the stomach, really ill, and he needed to use the bathroom. He sat on the toilet for ten minutes or so, but nothing came. It was just the feeling, the feeling of diarrhea. Eventually, he got up, but he felt distraught. Just this morning he’d said he wasn’t going to do that to himself again. Then it occurred to him that it was just like the dream, and the dream had been so good, Ben egging him on, and it really had happened.
What if he’d done it today? What if he’d smashed his nuts? He supposed that would be pretty hard to do, but now, he’d be feeling this for a day or so. Sick in the stomach. And tomorrow he was supposed to walk up that mountain with Ben.
[] [] []
In the morning, he woke at four a.m. His nuts were sore, and had been troubling him all night. He decided on the most comfortable underwear, a pair of boxer briefs, and then walked around the house in them, gingerly touching his balls every now and then. He told himself that he was never, ever doing that again, no matter what the provocation. And it was only because Ben had been in the tree, because he knew he’d been there and had wanted to show him. What it came down to, really, was that he wanted to talk to somebody about it. He’d seen things on the Internet, awful things, things people did that were simply unimaginable. They made him feel sick if anything, and he knew he could never go that far — not actually damage anything. If he did, then, well, his life would be over.
He made some ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches, and made some for Ben as well. Knowing Ben, he’d bring nothing to eat. Then he set about finding his warmest windbreaker, which was still packed away in a box.
By the time he’d done all of this, he had almost an hour to wait.
Ben came on time, and arrived at the door grinning wildly. Incredibly, he was still wearing the same clothes, the same shirt and shorts and his work boots. He reeked of that heady scent, but James ignored it. He let him into the house, picked up his pack, and said he was ready to go.
Ben nodded, and five minutes later they were roaring down the road in Ben’s old truck. They turned off five miles or so up the road, and then followed a muddy track into the foothills. Ben said it wasn’t so far — the walk — but they’d have to keep moving.
He turned and grinned at James. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah, just a little …” sore, he wanted to say.
Ben frowned. “You know, I really do like you James. Don’t get the idea I don’t like you, because I do.”
James nodded. He wondered what Ben would say if he started a conversation about hitting his nuts, and mentioned how Ben had been in the tree. Where would that lead?
The walk turned out to be the hardest thing James had ever attempted in his life. Halfway up he’d had enough, and would have turned back if Ben hadn’t been so eager.
“You ought to see the view,” he said more than once. “You can see your house.”
James nodded, but he was too exhausted to say anything. As they neared the top, it began to get cold. They stopped and dressed a little more warmly, Ben pulling a woolen sweater out of his pack and James putting on his windbreaker.
Then, just before one, they reached the summit. There was a wide space with a viewing platform, and as Ben had said, he could see his house. It looked impossibly small and frail, and all alone.
“You can’t see mine or my dad’s place, but you can see yours.”
James took a few deep breaths. “You want something to eat?” he said.
“Eat? Sure. What have you got?”
“Some sandwiches.”
Ben had brought water, but that was it.
They sat on a bench and ate together, the wind impossibly cold. Obviously it was going to snow up here in the winter. There’d most likely even be snow around the house. He wanted to ask Ben, but he was simply too tired.
“Well, that’s it,” Ben said, dusting the crumbs from his thighs. “Time to go back down.”
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“Well, we can wait half an hour, but it’ll be dark by the time we get to the truck.”
“Can we wait?”
“Sure. If you want.”
James nodded. He knew he was fit, but the type of training he did was all about muscle mass.
As it turned out, they waited more than forty-five minutes. Then Ben said they really had to go.
The walk down was even worse if possible, and James’s balls were killing him. He felt it in the stomach and had a permanent grimace on his face. Ben turned to him more than once and asked him if he was okay.
“Just feeling a little sick,” he said.
“I thought you’d find it easy. Thought you’d leave me in the dust.”
“I don’t think I’m at my best today.”
It darkened as they reached the end of the trail, and then t
hey had to pick their way through. Ben had bought a torch, so it wasn’t so bad, but even so, James had had enough. It had been fun. He’d enjoyed himself, but his balls were killing him.
Finally they reached the truck. James sighed with relief. Ben started it up and the tires slid. They slipped and slid in the mud for a minute or so, and then Ben crashed into a ditch.
“Well, that’s it,” he said, turning off the motor. “We’re here for the night.”
[] [] []
“Isn’t there something you can do?” James said.
“What, exactly?” Ben sounded angry now, pissed off with himself for having getting bogged.
“I don’t know. Dig it out.”
“James, the whole road is mud. Even if I got it out of the ditch we’d be lucky to make it ten feet.”
“What are we going to do then?”
“Sleep, and then in the morning, ask that farmer over yonder if he can pull us out with his tractor.”
Oh.
“That sound like a plan?”
“Yeah.”
Ben took a breath. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s all right. You’re angry.” He understood that.
After a moment, Ben said, “You cold?”
James nodded. Right where the truck had bogged they were in the foothills, and it was cold.
Ben slid over and put his arm around James. James pulled away, pushing Ben with all the force in his arms.
“Hell, James, what was that for? I’m your friend, aren’t I? Friends touch each other.” He paused for a moment. “You ought to know that.”
James pouted, and then began to sulk.
“Is there something wrong with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re giving me the weirdest signals.”
“I don’t have a mental illness if that’s what you mean.”
Ben snuffed air through his nose. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, hell. Why is this stuff always so hard?”
“I need to go to the toilet,” James suddenly said, and got out of the truck. He walked into the woods, walked further than he needed to, but he didn’t really need to go at all. All he’d needed was to get out of the truck, and to take these damn boxer briefs off. He slipped his shorts and briefs over his shoes and then jacked off, thinking, bizarrely, of the way Ben had put his arm around him. Then he threw his boxer briefs into a tree, laughing when they caught on a branch. He liked things like that — finding underwear in odd places and wondering how the person managed to lose it. He pulled his shorts back on and adjusted them, pulling them down to his hips. That ought to make things a little more comfortable, particularly if he had to sleep in the cab tonight.