by Todd Young
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They returned home late. Ben had wanted to stop at every place of interest, at every outlook and in every town. He said he was sick of driving, but when James offered he refused. “I don’t let anyone drive my truck. It’s too touchy.”
It was dark as they pulled up. Twilight anyway.
“You want to come in,” James said. He was reluctant to leave Ben.
Ben demurred, and James walked into the house alone. It felt different now, as though the presence, if there had been a presence, was happy with him. He wondered if the old man had left, and hoped he had.
[] [] []
The following day he learned there was a priest coming. Julie came down the road to tell him herself.
“What, and you actually saw him?” she said.
Apparently Ed had said something.
James nodded.
“That’s very strange. It’s not often anyone’s seen him.”
“He lit a fire.”
“Oh, yes, he gets up to all sorts of things, but Father McIntyre will move him on.”
The priest came at five p.m. and everyone gathered in the living room, even Ben and Ed. The priest spoke a lot of mumbo jumbo, in what must have been Latin, and then walked around sprinkling holy water everywhere. After everyone had prayed, he said the ghost had moved on. It felt like it too, at least to James. Everything felt lighter.
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The following day at school was a disaster. He had a supervised lesson with the deputy, which he totally ruined. He began to feel silly halfway through it, and began joking with the children.
One girl said she lived in a trailer park, and James said, “Is that where the trailer’s go to play.”
Another boy said he’d spent the weekend playing with his uncle’s organ, and James couldn’t help laughing.
Afterwards, the deputy berated him, telling him he simply couldn’t act like that with them. “They won’t respect you,” she said. He knew this and he nodded, but he was in a good mood today, feeling high. A psychiatrist would have said he was elevated, and as she spoke on he realized this. He was manic, or hypomanic anyway.
But that thing about the organ had been funny. Even she had had a smile on her face.
[] [] []
That night, James slept naked again. He’d got into the habit now, and it was more comfortable. What was the point of dirtying a clean pair of underwear every night?
He often slept on his side, with his knees pulled up and his fists between them. This exposed his ass, and his balls, but he figured it didn’t matter. He was sleeping on, sometime after dawn, when he thought he heard the back door open and close quietly. Was that Ben? Surely not.
He had the comforter on the bed beside him, so he was utterly exposed. Even so, he told himself not to move. Perhaps Ben would come and look at him. A few minutes later, he was sure Ben was standing in the doorway, though he didn’t dare open his eyes. He steadied his breathing and concentrated on not moving.
Time seemed to stretch into eternity, and all he could imagine was Ben, with one hand confidently on the jamb, staring at his naked ass and balls. If he turned over, Ben would be able to see his cock. But he just didn’t think he could do it. There was no way he could manage that and still look as though he was asleep.
Half an hour or so passed, and then James heard the back door close quietly. He remained in position until he was certain, and then suddenly moved, turning over rapidly and glancing at the door. Ben wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t there.
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He didn’t see him again until Friday, and then he came around about five o’clock. He came in the truck and wanted James to come down to his house. James was reluctant, but Ben said, “I want to show you what I’ve done with the place.”
James tidied up a little and then agreed to come. He climbed into the truck feeling something like trepidation. The last time he’d been to Ben’s, Ben had surely given him something. He’d slipped some sort of sedative into his beer. And James told himself not to accept another beer tonight — not to accept a drink of any kind. He wasn’t sleeping in Ben’s bed again.
They pulled up at the house and Ben got out of the truck. “Well, come on,” he said.
James unbuckled his belt and reluctantly got out.
“I should have brought you here in daylight, but you’ll get the picture.”
He trotted up the steps, opened the door and disappeared inside. A few moments later, all the lights were on. “Well, come in,” he said, coming back to the door.
James stepped inside and was simply amazed. Ben had cleaned up, but not just cleaned up, he’d really gone to town. There wasn’t a speck of dust in the place. Everything was arranged neatly, and there were even some potted palms.
“Hell,” James said.
“Look different?”
“It looks amazing.” He walked through all the rooms, complimenting Ben, particularly in the bathroom, which really had been disgusting.
“So, does that make you feel differently about me?”
“Differently?”
“I’m not so dirty.”
“That doesn’t bother me.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Well, there’s something.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we’re friends, right?”
James nodded. He couldn’t deny this was true now, and he was starting to value Ben’s friendship. He was something like an older brother.
“So we are friends?”
“Yeah.” His voice was a rising inflection.
“But we could be …”
“What?”
“More than friends.”
“What do you mean?”
Ben sighed and stared at the ceiling. He clenched his fists and stood in silence for a moment, looking utterly frustrated.
“You do understand me.”
James shook his head.
“Okay, then. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you don’t. You want to go home again?”
“Right now?”
“Well, you could sleep here tonight.”
“Yes, but you’ve got the truck.”
“I’ve got the truck.” Ben stared at the ceiling again. “James,” he said, speaking at the ceiling. “You’ve got no idea how you’re making me feel.”
“Making you feel?”
“Yes.”
“Is it bad?”
“Yes.”
He’d had this sort of problem with Tina. “I don’t mean anything by it.”
“No, no. I believe that. It’s just — this is so frustrating. All my life. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve waited.”
“Last time I came here did you drug me?”
“What?”
“Did you drug me?”
“What gives you that idea?”
“I don’t know. I just felt weird.”
“You drank a lot of beer.”
“I know, but still, that walk home, it was a nightmare.”
“You didn’t have to walk home,” Ben said, “you could have stayed.”
“I know, but I just felt like I had to go.”
“You want to stay tonight?”
James shook his head.
“You’re sure?”
James nodded.
“Okay. Well, then, I’m sure I’ll see you in the morning.”
“That would be fine.”
“If that’s the way you want it?”
James nodded again, unsure of what Ben meant.
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When he got home he cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, and didn’t exactly understand why he was crying. He’d upset Ben. He understood that much. But it was worse than he imagined. Much worse. Ben had been really pissed off, and he hated it when people became angry with him.
He walked through the house at a loss, carrying a pile of tissues with him. Every now and then he stopped and looked out of a window. He saw his own reflection and
felt distraught. He looked terrible. But what had he said or done exactly? He understood that Ben had wanted him to stay, and he supposed he could have slept in Ben’s bed. But why wouldn’t he rather come home and sleep in his own bed?
It was twelve thirty or later by the time he’d calmed down. Then he really was tired. He made himself something to eat and went to bed.
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That night, he dreamed of Ben again. They were in bed with one another, in Ben’s bed, and the water bladder broke. Both of them sunk into it and started to drown. It took only a few moments and then they were dead.
He woke with a start and put his hand on his throat. Then he shook his head vigorously. That had been truly horrible. Both of them had been lying beneath the water but had retained some sort of consciousness. They weren’t utterly dead.
He got up and walked through the house for a few minutes. Then he started crying again. What had he said to Ben? Something awful. Most likely he had. He knew he could be insensitive. Tina had said that often enough. But what was her main point — that he simply didn’t know himself. He’d never been able to understand what she meant.
He went back to bed and lay for an hour or so in the darkness. When he woke in the morning, he was in yesterday’s position, with his knees drawn up and his hands thrust between them. The comforter was beside him.
He heard the back door open and knew it was Ben. It had to be. Perhaps he’d come to say something, but James didn’t feel as though he could move. He wanted Ben to see him. Ben hadn’t been happy last night and James knew he liked to look at him. Of course he liked it. He must. All those times in the tree and that first night at the window. All of that had really happened he told himself. He hadn’t imagined any of it.
A moment later, he was aware of Ben at the door. He imagined him standing casually, with one hand on the jamb. But he couldn’t want to look at James’s ass. He must want to see his dick. James supposed he’d have to turn over, but right at the moment he was having trouble steadying his breathing.
Then he became aware of Ben walking into the room. He clearly heard his work boots on the floorboards and his heart started to thump. Ben squatted down by the bed, or James imagined he did. He could hear his breathing.
A moment later he felt something touch one of his testicles — a finger? And his scrotum contracted. He took a big breath, and then tried to steady his breathing. He was determined to remain asleep.
Soon he felt something again, this time a hand cupping his testicles, a warm hand, Ben’s hand, the fingers calloused. He managed to go on breathing steadily, but it was difficult to keep the muscles in his thighs relaxed. He conquered it somehow, and then felt Ben’s fingers trail up the cleft of his ass.
He’d never felt anything like it in his life before and he took a sharp breath. Then he started to get hard, though most of his cock was hidden between his thighs.
He felt Ben trail his fingers up and down his crack, and then felt a thumb push forward against his hole. Not hard enough to go in, but James wished it would.
A moment later he felt something hot and wet, and realized Ben had his face against his ass. He reached forward and laid his lips over James’s ass, and James thanked his lucky stars he was clean. What would that be like — to taste shit?
Ben ducked his tongue forward and licked James’s hole. He licked all around it and over it and between his cleft, and then finally finished by sucking on James’s scrotum. He could feel Ben’s stubble, rough against the back of his naked thighs.
He groaned, unable to help himself, and came.
Ben got up quickly and James turned over. He turned onto his back with his eyes closed as though he was still asleep, sure Ben wanted to see his cock and what had happened. But Ben walked out of the room. He made no secret of it, and a few moments later the back door closed.
James lay on with a smile on his face. That had felt fantastic. After ten minutes or so, he opened his eyes and lay with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. It occurred to him that the ghost was gone, and he was glad. The old man wouldn’t have liked to see that.
But what exactly had happened?
Ben had come into his house and touched him?
That didn’t seem likely. Surely he’d been half-asleep, and would it really have felt like that. He didn’t know. Tina had never touched him there. They had never done anything but missionary style, and that had been hard.
Hell, he thought, smiling to himself. Maybe that really had been Ben. Maybe Ben really had touched him like that.
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He spent the rest of the day wondering whether it had really happened or not. As it neared eleven, he supposed it really couldn’t have. Ben wouldn’t have done that.
He decided to clean the house, to make it as clean as Ben’s, and he started dusting. Then he got the vacuum out. That was the most arduous thing. He put a load of washing on and did the washing up. Then he started wiping down surfaces. He cleaned every power outlet in the place and then decided to wash the windows. He had some window cleaner and some paper towels, and he worked diligently on every louvered window, as well as on the sash windows at the front of the house. Then it was time to make his bed. Clean sheets and another load of washing. At around two he came to a halt, unable to think of anything else to do.
He walked through the house, nodding at what he’d done, and taking a real pleasure in it. It did make a difference to clean up. But now he needed to do something else. He glanced at the weight bench, but balked at training. Then he thought of a swim. It was getting late, and it was threatening to rain, but surely he had time.
He put his flip-flops on and walked out of the house dressed as he was. If Ben came, then he would most likely know where he was. Maybe Ben would be in the tree, though he doubted it. It wasn’t their usual time, and hadn’t Ben …? What had happened this morning? Surely nothing.
It began to drizzle as he stepped into the water, but he was determined to swim. It was so natural to swim naked now that he wasn’t sure he could do anything else. At the beach the other day, he’d really felt it, felt the constriction of his shorts.
He played in the pool more than anything. He didn’t feel like swimming, and Ben wasn’t in the tree. He’d checked. At first obliquely, and then openly. He liked duck diving and blowing water through his teeth, and he spent a bit of time sitting on the waterfall where Ben had sat and feeling the water travel beneath him, tickling his genitals.
He didn’t feel like jacking off for some strange reason, but as he was getting out of the pool, he stepped on a piece of obsidian, the largest he’d seen. He picked it up and hefted in his hand for a moment and then dropped it at his feet again.
When Julie had come with the priest the other day, she said that you could make jewelry out of it. That they’d once made knifes and pickaxes and all sorts of things out of the stuff. Now it seemed mainly useless, and he couldn’t believe it was very valuable, given the way the miners had left so much of it lying around.
When he reached home he expected to see Ben, maybe sitting on the back steps or even in the kitchen. He wasn’t there. James wouldn’t have said anything about this morning. He knew that hadn’t, couldn’t have happened.
Then he thought that maybe it had, and he grinned. He just didn’t understand why Ben hadn’t stayed to see his cock. If it had been real, then that would have happened. He’d just come, and Ben would have wanted to see. He was still hard.
He began to smile a little maniacally, and thought of the bipolar again. He really was high, and he needed a cup of tea. A cigarette would be magic, and he knew he’d left himself one, just one, and that it was in the pantry.
He made the tea first and then sat on the back steps and smoked the cigarette. It was raining, but he was protected by an eave. He still expected Ben to come, but by the time ten and then eleven had gone, he went to bed, having eaten far much more than he should have.
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James woke suddenly. There was someone
in the room, someone climbing into bed with him. He recognized the smell as Ben’s, but wondered what was happening.
“Ben?” he said.
“Oh, James. This morning. You must know.”
“What do I know?”
“Oh, come on. I can’t hold myself back anymore.”
“Can’t hold yourself back from what?” he said, and shuffled over. It seemed odd to be in his bed with Ben.
“You must know I want you.”
“Want me?”
“Come on, turn over. Lie on your stomach.”
James complied. Perhaps Ben was going to touch him again. Then he felt something wet and slippery against his asshole, something Ben was applying liberally with his hands. He grinned. It felt good, but cold.
Then he felt something slip into his hole, a finger he guessed. His ass resisted it, but eventually it went up, and as it did, James groaned. That felt mad, like something he’d been yearning for all his life. Then he felt a second finger go in and he frowned. That hurt. That hurt like mad. He waited, thinking Ben would pull it back out again, and after a few moments of twisting both fingers around inside him, he did this.
Well, that had been odd, James thought. He’d never expected Ben to do anything like that. And then it occurred to him that it was gay, that he’d had a finger up his ass, and he’d never had anything up there in his life. That was what fags did.
He felt Ben press something thicker against his asshole and realized it was his penis. He felt as though he couldn’t move, as though nothing in the world could move him. Ben pressed forward and back a few times, inching his cock into James’s hole.
But did he really think it was going to go up there?
That thing, that was impossible.
Then it slid all the way in one sudden rush and James groaned. He told himself again that this was gay, that this was what fags did, but if felt mad.
Ben drew his cock all the way out and then thrust forward. It was a little quick, and James grunted.
“Oh, James,” Ben said, “I’ve just got to fuck you hard. I’ve been waiting so long.”
He drew his cock back and thrust it forward with one almighty rush. James winced. He gritted his teeth and waited. Surely Ben would pull it out now. He wasn’t going to hurt him.