A Little Sin

by Sionnach Wintergreen

  Garland ignored the fists and smoothed a hand down Avery’s right arm. His breath shook. There was a gun on Avery’s right hip. He employed the soothing tone he used to charm hurt animals. “God made us this way. We’re not wrong. Someday, people will understand that. For now, only you and I have to. We’re not wrong, Avery.”

  Avery took a huge breath. “I don’t know.”

  His lips were too tempting. Garland couldn’t help himself. He planted a soft, chaste kiss on Avery’s supple lips. He felt a hand clasp behind his head. Avery’s tongue invaded his mouth. Garland caressed Avery’s strong tongue with his own. They pressed against each other. Garland’s cock swelled with need. He pushed free.

  “No. I’ve been all over a dead girl. I have to get clean first. I have to get that off me.”

  Avery reached out and took his hand. “One more?”

  Garland’s eyes fluttered as Avery’s warm lips covered his. Their tongues were subtle this time. Careful things, full of secrets.

  Garland sighed as they pulled away. Avery flushed. “Damn. You taste so good.”

  “You’re going to make me crazy, Avery O’Rourke.” He heaved a breath. “Change of plans. Come take a bath with me.”

  “You got a big bathtub?”

  “Standard wash tub.”

  “How are we going to bathe together?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  He led Avery to the back porch, grabbing towels and a jar of petroleum jelly from the linen chest along the way. They lit a couple of lanterns. The warm August night hummed around them. Crickets chirped. Frogs squeaked and croaked. But the chickens were all sound asleep in the henhouse.

  Garland filled the little pot-bellied wood-burning stove and lit it. To his surprise, Avery took the pot Garland used to heat water on the stove and started pumping water into it. “Thanks,” he told Avery.

  “My bath, too.”

  Garland arranged the towels, laid out the scrub brush and wash cloths, then sat on the porch steps and waited for the water to heat on the stove. Avery sat beside him. They stared out into the hot, black night. A tiny spot of light flickered on and off in the distance. Then there were more of them.

  “I love fireflies.”

  “Me, too. I was married, before the war. We used to sit and watch the fireflies at night.”

  “I’ve never been with a woman.”

  “It’s different. I only did it a few times. She didn’t mind that we didn’t do it much. I don’t think she liked it. She had a gentle disposition, though. She was fair-minded and even-tempered. She died of cholera while I was overseas.”

  “Cholera’s bad.”

  “Yeah. It hurt when she died. I felt like I should have done something. Could have. I don’t know.”

  Garland took his hand and squeezed it. “I know what that feels like,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  Avery got up and poured the pot of water into the washtub. He filled another pot and put it on the stove. Garland felt a quiet spark of gratitude when Avery resumed his former position, pressed up alongside him with a hand on Garland’s knee.

  “How old were you when you knew…when you knew you were like this?”

  Garland shrugged, twiddling with Avery’s index finger. “Five?”

  “Five?!”

  “All the little girls wanted to kiss me. We’d play kiss chase behind the barns. I wanted to kiss the other boys.”

  Avery laughed. He had a great laugh, manly and deep. “I didn’t know until I was eleven. I started feeling excited around boys and men. I didn’t feel that with girls. I liked them just fine. I just didn’t feel….” He hung his head, bashful. “You know.”

  Garland got up and dumped the simmering pot. He pumped the water for the next round. Avery dipped a finger in the tub. “We’re never going to fit in that together.”

  Garland set the new pot of water to heat on the stove. “We’ll have to take turns.” Unable to wait any longer, he washed his face and hands in the tub. Avery copied him. They kissed each other with clean lips, clasped clean hands, wet skin against wet skin.

  Garland took off his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly. Avery grinned his approval and unbuckled his holster and set it on the rocking chair. He took his badge off the front pocket of his shirt and set it beside his gun. He unbuttoned his shirt. Garland watched him, fascinated. While Garland’s chest was covered with soft blond hair, Avery’s was almost smooth. He had a few dark hairs around his ruddy areolas.

  “Water,” said Avery.

  The water had started to boil. Garland poured it into the washtub and quickly replaced it. When he had finished, Avery stood on the porch wearing nothing but his flannel drawers. Lantern light caressed his muscular chest and ridged abdomen. “What a beautiful specimen of maleness you are,” Garland told him.

  “You’re the pretty one. You’re even more beautiful than a horse.”

  He said it with such sincerity that Garland laughed.

  “I didn’t mean it to be funny.”

  Garland grasped his closest hand and pulled him down to the wooden floor of the porch. “I’m sorry. I believe you.” He couldn’t help beaming. “That’s the best compliment anyone has ever given me. I admire horses almost more than any other creature.”

  “Horses are closest to the angels,” said Avery. He grazed Garland’s cheek with his thumb. “Don’t let that sorrel suffer too long. I know you want to save him, but don’t draw out his death overlong.”

  Garland poured another pot in the washtub. It was almost half full. He took off his pants and socks. “I won’t. I have to try to save him. You understand that, right? I have to try. But I won’t let him linger too long. I promise.” Avery’s concern touched him.

  “I believe you.” Avery motioned at the washtub. “Get in. I’ll heat up another pot of water.”

  Garland splashed water onto his arms and chest. He soaped up and scrubbed them before settling into the tub. He hunched over in the tub, washing himself diligently. Avery came up behind him and poured warm water down his back. Then Avery knelt and kissed behind his ear. Garland shuddered with pleasure. Avery mouthed his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him.

  Garland washed Avery’s arms. He turned and found Avery’s mouth ready for his. Sitting up to his navel in warm water, Garland had the strange feeling he was being born into some new life—like being baptized.

  Avery, still behind him, began kneading his wet shoulders. He suckled the back of Garland’s neck. “You taste so good,” he murmured.

  Garland shivered despite the hot night and warm bath. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so hard. He cleared his throat, struggling to clear his head as well. “Your turn.”

  “I’m not that dirty.”

  Garland laughed. He grabbed Avery’s hand and pulled it to his mouth. He gathered it into a fist and licked around the circle of flesh created by Avery’s thumb and index finger. “I want to kiss you all over,” he said slowly, licking a stroke after each word. “Get clean for me.”

  Avery rose and stepped out of his drawers. Besides the scattering of hairs on his chest, he had a trail of nearly black fur beneath his navel leading to the curly ruff around his beautiful, ready cock.

  Garland stood up in the tub, dripping wet. They kissed, probing each other delicately with their tongues, their hands clasped. Garland pulled back, stepped out, and toweled off. Avery sat down in the washtub and watched him. Garland laughed at him. He tossed Avery the scrub brush. “Get clean, silly goose!”

  Garland decided Avery needed help. He picked up a wash cloth and another bar of soap and lathered Avery’s chest and arms. He loved Avery’s strong, lean arms and enjoyed the feel of the short, dark hairs dancing wetly over the hard muscles. After a bit of scrubbing and sluicing, he helped Avery out of the bath. Avery stood still, as if not knowing what to expect. Garland toweled him off. “How many men have you been with?”

  “Two.”

  “How many times?”

  “Two.” He
inhaled quickly. “You’ve been around, huh?”

  Garland chuckled. “You make me sound like a floozy. It’s not that bad. Five. It’s different because one of those was a relationship. I’ve had time to experiment.”

  Chill bumps had risen over Avery’s skin. “What do you want to do?”

  “Nothing strange. I just want to love you. Simple as that.” He kissed his way down Avery’s statuesque body and dropped to his knees as he went. He enjoyed nibbling and chewing the moist, soap-scented skin. His hands worked their way down Avery’s sides. He tongued the damp, chewy hair around Avery’s root and gripped Avery’s hard cock in his hand. He lipped the petal-soft skin of the heavy shaft, tonguing his way to the head. He teased the juicy slit for a moment with his tongue before taking the entire head into his mouth.

  Avery gave a short gasp. Garland sucked him hard, letting the pressure build before sliding back and coming off of him. Avery huffed. Garland took his hips and turned him around. He wasn’t sure, but he thought Avery was holding his breath. He gripped Avery’s hips. Avery had a scrumptious backside. Garland pressed his face into it. His tongue found Avery’s hole. He loved a clean, warm hole. He stroked Avery’s rim, then fished his tongue into that hot, tight hole.

  Avery exhaled loudly. Garland strained not to laugh. He pushed his tongue deep, seeking Avery’s prostate, wondering what sort of noises he might make then. His tongue stretched and probed. He cupped Avery’s balls. Avery moaned. He staggered. Garland’s hands smoothed up and down Avery’s muscular legs, reminding him to stay standing. He played Avery’s prostate until he thought Avery would fall over.

  He caressed Avery’s rim with his tongue while kneading his cock. Avery made a few hushed, delightful little noises. Garland couldn’t take anymore. With his hands and soft whispers, he guided Avery to the porch floor. He arranged him on his hands and knees and grabbed the petroleum jelly. He opened it and smeared a fair amount on Avery’s rim.

  He probed Avery with a finger and teased his prostate. Carefully, he inserted another finger and fanned the hole wider. Only after he had loosened Avery up with three fingers did he feel he could continue. With a greasy hand, he rubbed up and down on his own tight-skinned, eager cock. Feeling powerful and euphoric he mounted him, easing his head into Avery’s sweet, wet hole.

  The world fell away as he thrust deep. Avery pushed back against him, wanting more. Garland rode him hard, pumping madly. They disappeared into some fervent dance. They disappeared together. The night seemed to breathe around them, seemed to swallow them into some cosmic darkness. He heard Avery come and felt his own orgasm narrowing to the head of a pin before exploding in a rush of light and bliss. Swirls of champagne bubbles on fire whirled through his body.

  He collapsed to his knees and let the sensations wash over him. Avery turned around and gathered him into his arms. They stayed, entwined for what felt like a long time. Katydid padded lightly up the porch steps and sat down beside them, purring her approval.

  “Do you want to do me now?” Garland asked.

  “I…I don’t know. I’ve never….”

  “That’s all right. I think most men only do one thing. I wasn’t sure about you.” He smoothed a hand down Avery’s muscular stomach. “Let’s wash our hands and eat. I’m starving.”

  Chapter Six

  Sands’ Farm

  Avery’s mind kept doing flip flops. In a way, he had never felt happier. As he stood in Garland’s kitchen, dressed in Garland’s clean drawers, helping him roll dough into biscuits, some part of him felt that this was the most natural thing in the world. This was how things should be. But there was another part that bristled and hid and said that he should be ashamed. That all of this was wrong.

  Garland put the biscuits in the oven. He lit a cigarette, puffed, then stuck it in his mouth while he heated some butter in a frying pan. He handed the cigarette to Avery. Avery took it and sucked while Garland measured a few tablespoons of flour into the melting butter. They shared the cigarette as they made gravy.

  They fried a few eggs and ate by the light of the hurricane lamps at the kitchen table. “Where did you grow up, anyway?” Garland asked him.

  “Amberton.” Amberton and Timberland were the only cities in Wakeforest County.

  Garland grinned. “Amberton. That close. All that time, you were right in the next town.” He dipped a biscuit in his gravy. “I wish we had met when we were kids.”

  Avery was glad they hadn’t. He wouldn’t have known what to make of Garland back then. He barely knew what to make of him now. His brain swirled with a thousand things he wanted to tell Garland. “These biscuits turned out good.”

  “They did.” Garland looked amused. “The gravy’s smooth, too.”

  “That was your hand, not mine. Mine’s always lumpy.”

  “Mine’s usually too thin. I guess the two of us together made it perfect.”

  Avery laughed and felt embarrassed by how nervous it sounded. Maybe it was just a little sin. Everyone sinned sometimes. But when he and Garland had been together like that—it had seemed bigger than anything in the world. Neither of his two previous experiences compared. And he had never done something like this—eating together afterward like a couple of lovebirds.

  Garland held his chin and sighed. “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?”

  Avery shrugged and shoved half a fried egg into his mouth.

  “Are you done with the biscuits?”

  Avery nodded, chewing.

  Garland covered the basket they were in with a cloth. “They’ll be good with jam tomorrow. Maybe Lucinda will have one with her coffee. I’ll tell her you helped make them.”

  “Why would you go and do a thing like that?”

  “I was just trying to see if you were listening.”

  Avery cleared his throat. “This here between us, this is private.”

  “Absolutely.” His face grew serious. “Do you think anyone around here would want me touching their animals if they knew what I was?”

  Avery didn’t say anything, but he knew the answer.

  “I love being a veterinarian. I worked hard to be a real one. Don’t think, for even a minute, that I would jeopardize my place here.”

  “I feel the same way about being sheriff.”

  “I thought so.” He leaned over and rubbed Avery’s arm. “I would never hurt you. I swear it. On a thousand Bibles. I would never hurt you.”

  Avery couldn’t help himself. “Bible doesn’t mean that much to you.”

  Garland withdrew and folded his arms over his chest. His expression, however, was more hurt than defiant. “I don’t believe every line of every book, but my faith is the only thing that got me through the worst times. Don’t you think I wanted to end it after Philippe killed himself? I’m still here because I believe Jesus loves me. I just happen to believe that He loves the real me—the one He sees all of the time—the one behind the mask.”

  Avery pushed his plate aside, reached over, and pried up one of Garland’s hands. He pulled it to his lips and cradled it in both hands. Everything in him felt new and still. He rubbed Garland’s hand against his beard and kissed the palm.

  They sat there for a long time, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. At last, Avery sighed, not wanting to break the spell, but realizing that it must be done. “I have to go. Morning comes early.”

  Garland squeezed his hand. “Stay.” He seemed to realize that he had issued it as a command. “Please. Stay here.”

  Avery hesitated.

  “We’ll be up before Lucinda gets here. She’ll never know that you didn’t just come early to inquire about the body.”

  Avery sucked a breath. Garland looked so imploring. “I’ve never slept with a man before.” He grinned. “You’ll be my first.”

  Garland stood and yanked him to his feet. He hugged him in a vice-like grip. “At least I get to be your first something!”

  ***

  Avery lay on his side with Garland snuggled against him. He
couldn’t sleep. Not because a fearsome killer was loose in Wakeforest County. Not because the man he had jailed was probably innocent. But because he wanted to do a jig from here to Amberton. He held still only because Garland’s arm hung over him.

  Some part of him that he never knew existed wanted to run barefoot, yodeling through the streets. He wanted to tell everyone he met of his good fortune. This is what they mean by ‘fairy,’ he thought. He had never truly felt like a fairy until that night. Before, he knew men—especially certain men—made him tingle inside and swell outside. He didn’t just tingle now. He felt as crazy as a spring colt.

  He closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. Garland’s mattress was softer than he liked, and the crickets somehow sounded different outside his window. Garland’s breath husked in his throat. He pulled Avery closer.

  Despite the August heat, Avery basked in Garland’s hot breaths on the back of his neck. He shoved his body against Garland, wishing he would wake up and want to mess around. But Garland slept like a dead man.

  Avery cuddled Garland’s hand to his chest and stroked it. “I think I might be falling for you, Garland Sands. That would be a first, too.”

  ***

  Thursday, August 2, 1923

  Timberland, Texas

  Sands’ Farm

  Garland fed his chickens and gathered eggs while Avery dressed. Avery seemed to be a little slow to get moving in the morning. Garland had reminded him that Lucinda was coming. He gave Avery a khaki work shirt identical to the one Avery had worn yesterday, but his pants were a bit too long, so Avery wore his old ones.

  Avery, dressed complete with badge, saddled his blue roan while Garland milked Rosy, his red cow. Garland thought he looked a picture. He fought to keep his thoughts where they needed to be—on the animals and the corpse. “Are you going to call the undertaker to take the girl away, or shall I?”

  “Can you call him? I have more things to do than I can shake a stick at.”

  “I’ll call him.” He couldn’t help himself. “Say, long as you’re shaking your stick.…” He grinned hugely.