A Forbidden Rumspringa

by Keira Andrews

  “How do you know her?”

  “The drive-in. Jessica from the snack bar, remember? After I picked up the tools the other day I stopped by here and asked her about getting a room.”

  The pole at the back of the lot was wide and wooden, near the edge of the forest beyond the motel. The area had been plowed recently, the snow from yesterday pushed cleanly from the pavement into banks.

  “So she knows about us?” Isaac perched on the edge of the bench, his knee vibrating as he fidgeted.

  “I didn’t tell her anything.” He put his hand on Isaac’s knee. “I’m sure she guessed I’m bringing someone here, but I didn’t say who. I’ll ask for a room back here, and she’ll never even see you.”

  “But I’m sure she saw me when we came in.” Isaac yanked off his gloves and pulled at the dry skin around one of his finger nails.

  “Maybe, maybe not. The buggy has a roof, and the office is on the far side. But even if she did, she’s not going to tell anyone.” David sat back with a sigh. “But if you want to leave, we will. I didn’t mean to upset you. I should have told you where we were going. I’m sorry, Isaac. I just wanted to be with you. I thought we’d be safer here than anywhere in Zebulon.”

  Isaac’s anxiety faded away in the face of David’s disappointment. “Well, we’ve come this far, and you’re right—we’re hidden back here. We’re far enough away from Zebulon too.” He buzzed all over as he thought about having a room to themselves. Just this once. “What are you waiting for? Go get a key.”

  With a grin, David hopped down and tied Kaffi to the post. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  It was actually four minutes before he returned, and Isaac thought he might vibrate out of his skin as he waited. He flipped his pocketknife open and shut, open and shut, open and shut. Then David appeared, waving him over to one of the rooms—number sixteen.

  “Bring the bag,” he called out.

  Isaac glanced behind him. The only bag he could see was the plastic one holding the new tools, so he grabbed it and hurried across the salted concrete. The cutting wind made the hair on his neck stand up, although he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t the excitement of knowing what was to come.

  Room number sixteen at the Wildwood Inn was musty, but clean. David flicked on the overhead light and closed the brown curtains. The room was mostly beige with orange and yellow here and there. A painting of wheat fields rippling in the wind hung over the double bed on the opposite wall.

  A real bed.

  Isaac’s pulse raced. For all the times he and David had already sinned, this felt more real somehow. For all the times he’d dreamed of it, they were actually going to share a bed. You shall not lie with a man as with a woman…

  The wooden dresser opposite the bed was worn but well shined, and a TV sat on top of it. Beside the dresser was another smaller one, and above it was a huge mirror. Isaac stood frozen in the doorway. “There’s a mirror.”

  David glanced at the dresser, and then back to Isaac. “Yes.” His brow creased. “Surely you’re not worried about that rule right now considering…”

  Heat washed through him, and Isaac wasn’t sure how much was lust, and how much was shame. “I don’t want to see myself.”

  “Isaac.” David’s face softened.

  “I can’t.” Maybe it was silly, but the thought of looking at himself when he was going to sin so thoroughly made him unbearably anxious. His chest tightened. “Please.”

  “Okay.” David pulled down the yellow cover on the bed and yanked the sheet off. He draped it over the mirror. “Is that better? I’ll cover the one in the bathroom too.” He came to the door and took Isaac’s hand. “But if you want to leave, we can.”

  Isaac stared at the rusty orange squares on the carpet. “No. I want…I want you so much. But I shouldn’t, David.” He felt David’s fingers gently tipping up his chin, and met his tender gaze. “It’s stupid about the mirrors, I know.”

  “It’s not stupid.” David brushed their lips together. “It’s all right. No one will see. Not even our reflections. It’s just you and me, remember?”

  At the feel of David’s lips against his, Isaac’s fear and guilt faded away. He kissed him desperately, tugging the length of David’s body against him. David tasted of pot pie—meat and butter and warmth. It’s just us. Suddenly Isaac couldn’t stand the thought of anything between them, and he tugged at their clothing.

  They both breathed loudly in the silence as they stripped off their clothes, fingers flying over hooks and fastenings. Gloriously naked, Isaac rolled on top of David on the bed, inhaling the faint whiff of sawdust that clung to both their skin. The thought that they smelled alike made his blood hot for some reason.

  David’s breath fluttered on Isaac’s face as he gasped. “God help me, Isaac. I’ve missed you so much. It’s torture being around you and not being able to touch you.” He pressed messy kisses to Isaac’s face.

  Rolling his hips, Isaac rutted against him, their cocks growing hard and their skin becoming slick with sweat. An English heater rattled by the wall, making the room as warm as summer. “Yes, yes,” Isaac muttered mindlessly.

  “Where’s the bag?” David kissed him again.

  “Oh, um…over there somewhere. I’ll get it.”

  But David was still kissing him, hands tangling in Isaac’s hair.

  Smiling around David’s searching tongue, Isaac nipped him. “If you want the bag, you have to stop kissing me.”

  David groaned, unhooking his legs from Isaac’s. “Hurry.”

  The plastic bag sat on the floor by the dresser, and Isaac scrambled off the bed and snagged a finger in one of the handles. The tools clattered as he hauled it up. “What do you have in here?” He crawled across the mattress and poked through the bag, pulling out a jagged fret saw with a plastic guard on its blade. “Are you going to fuck me with this?” he teased.

  “No!” David laughed. “Look again. There’s a tube in there.”

  Isaac poked through the bag and found a plastic tube. He read the label. “Personal lubricating jelly.” He glanced at David. “This is what the English use instead of grease?”

  David was already spreading his legs, pulling his knees back and exposing his hole. Not needing to be asked twice, Isaac fumbled with the cap and squeezed. Nothing came out. He shook the tube, but still nothing.

  “The seal. You have to break the seal.” David licked his lips.

  Once Isaac had the jelly on his fingers, he pushed them into David, knowing he should be patient but wanting desperately to impale himself, shove into David’s body and come inside him, hidden away where no one would see. The slick jelly was just as messy as saddle grease, but when he smeared it over his cock, the smooth slide of it had him gripping the base of his shaft, breathing deeply as he regained control.

  Nostrils flaring, David hauled Isaac on top of him. “Fuck me, please,” he gritted out.

  Isaac moaned as he fit his cock into the heat of David’s ass. It was so tight, and he inched in, kissing David’s face. David smiled, squeezing around him. As Isaac began to thrust in and out, he panted words and sounds that sounded loud in his own ears. “Oh, oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, oh.”

  Sweat glistened on David’s forehead, his hair sticking up in all directions as he turned his head back and forth on the pillow. “Yes, just like that. Right there. I never want to stop. Isaac, we can’t stop. I need this. Need you.” He dug his fingers into Isaac’s hips, his heels on Isaac’s back. “I love you.”

  Isaac’s breath caught, and emotion swelled in him. He stopped his thrusts, buried deep in David, his arms straining as he held himself up. “Do you really?”

  David took Isaac’s face with shaky hands, his eyes bright. “Yes. I love you, Isaac. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you.”

  “We’ll never stop,” Isaac muttered, gasping as he pulled back and rammed into David. “I love you so much.” Isaac had never even had a sip of moonshine, but he couldn’t imagine anything was more intoxicating t
han the fever gripping him. He thrust back into David’s body and bit his lip to stop from crying out.

  “Do it. Scream. No one’s listening.”

  So Isaac screamed.

  His shouts filled the air as he slammed into him, David’s cries filling the spaces between until it sounded like strange and wonderful music. There was pleasure in every pore as Isaac grunted, eyes locked with David’s. He wanted to make David come, but he couldn’t control himself as David squeezed around him, lips parted.

  “Do it, Isaac. Fill me up.” He clamped down.

  Shouting to the heavens, Isaac let go, jerking as he shot into David’s ass. They kissed, mouths open, tongues searching. He wanted to stay inside David forever, but David was still hard between them. He pulled back, his softening cock slipping out.

  Isaac ducked his head to suck David, but David wriggled out from beneath him. He swiped his fingers into the seed dripping out of him and got behind Isaac. Isaac leaned forward on his elbows, offering himself up eagerly.

  He groaned when David rubbed his slick fingers over Isaac’s hole, straining his neck to watch as David transferred the slippery mixture from his own ass to Isaac’s. It was utterly depraved, and a phrase from a long-ago sermon popped into Isaac’s mind.

  Carnal sin.

  If hell waited one way or the other now, then let it be like this. “Yes,” he moaned. “Give me all of it.”

  He hung his head against the cheap sheets as David squirted an extra dollop from the tube and pushed inside. Isaac closed his eyes, panting as his cries mingled with the squeak and bang of the bed as it hammered the wall.

  It was all sound and sensation—his body open as David fucked him like a dog would, with harsh grunts that were practically barks, his wet fingers gripping Isaac’s hips so hard they were sure to leave bruises that would make him blush and smile.

  He imagined he could smell the hay and sawdust and manure of the barn along with their sweat as David’s hips slapped against his ass. Isaac’s spent cock twitched to life as David rubbed against the sensitive spot inside him, but Isaac only cared about David reaching the breaking point. Squeezing, he rocked with David’s thrusts, pushing back and meeting him.

  It wouldn’t be long, and sure enough David cried out, shuddering as he came. Isaac could feel it deep within him, and the thought that their seed was mixed inside him made him whimper. He wanted to plug himself up and keep it there forever. I must truly be sick.

  But as he collapsed with David on him, still buried in him, pressing little kisses to his neck and murmuring tender words of praise and love, Isaac didn’t care.

  Let it be like this.

  The storm arrived so fiercely that Isaac could hardly believe that minutes ago the pavement had been clear, and the late-afternoon sun had even peeked out. Now the snow whipped across the road, striking their faces and making Isaac’s eyes water. He kept his head low, but his hat could only do so much. But worse than the bitter cold was that the world had become white.

  “Light the lantern!” David shouted above the howling wind.

  Isaac did, knowing the lantern in its box would do little to make them visible in the blinding snow. “Can you pull over?”

  “I’ll try!”

  Even with his gloves, Isaac’s fingers were numb as he gripped the seat. The next road was someone’s driveway judging by the mailbox. The lane was narrow and long, but there was another road that split off it, and using the extra space, David was able to get the buggy turned around.

  “If it comes down too much, we’ll get stuck.” He wiped snow from his chin. “But better to wait here, don’t you think?”

  Isaac nodded as a gust rattled the buggy. There was forest on either side of the lane, but it didn’t seem to offer much protection. “Guess we should have stayed in bed for a while longer.” Isaac could have spent all day hidden there.

  He hadn’t even been tempted to peek at the TV. Cuddling with David under the covers was everything he wanted and more. David had told him stories about his father, and Isaac had shared his memory of the time the chickens had gotten loose and laid eggs in the most unexpected places. To be together miles away from home and without having to listen for footsteps was a dream.

  If his hair wasn’t still damp from the shower they’d shared, Isaac would think he’d imagined it entirely. It had been so warm and safe, and now they were back in the real world, and winter was baring its fangs. The ends of his hair were brittle and frozen.

  David’s teeth chattered. “Whoever thought our buggies shouldn’t have windshields didn’t live in Minnesota.”

  They huddled together, the brims of their hats bumping. They seemed to be alone among the trees, but at least if anyone happened by, they had a good reason for pressing against each other.

  But before too long, the snow cleared and the wind died down, almost as if by magic, or the flick of an English light switch. Winter could be like that in Minnesota—a lion and a lamb. Mostly lion, though.

  David snapped the reins and they ventured back to the main road, the buggy wheels groaning in the drifts. Snow still swirled in the air, but at least they could see now. “Let’s just get home,” he muttered.

  As David urged on Kaffi, Isaac lit the lantern again, glad that there weren’t many cars out. It was slow going on the snow-covered road, and it was almost dark when he pointed to the bend ahead. A red light flashed over the snow on the far side of the road. “What’s that?”

  Then they came around the curve and saw for themselves. The red lights of three state police cars spun over the scene, and orange-red flares sparked on the road. A small blue car had skidded to a stop, its tail almost in the ditch.

  Ahead a buggy lay crumpled on its side, the wheels in the air rocking in the wind.

  Isaac’s lungs wouldn’t expand. Please God. Please no. He looked to David, whose eyes were wide as he pulled the hand brake and hauled on the reins, jerking Kaffi to the side of the road. They both leaped out, slipping and sliding on the patches of ice as they ran.

  That it was someone they knew was certain. His family’s faces flashed through his mind—Mother and Father and Ephraim and Nathan and Katie and Joseph—and he mumbled a prayer. “Please, please, please.” Don’t be them. Don’t be them.

  A police officer held up his hands and stepped in their path. “You need to stay back, boys. I’m sorry.”

  Isaac ignored him, desperately trying to get a closer look at the horse and buggy. He sagged in relief as he took in the coloring of the animal, which lay broken and unmoving, blood seeping into the snow. It wasn’t Roy.

  But still, he recognized that horse.

  He reached for David, who was already scrambling toward a slash of black on the ground. Mrs. Lantz’s eyes were shut beneath her black bonnet, and her bloody leg was twisted horribly, her long cloak and dress torn. Police officers knelt over her. The policeman who tried to block their way, an older man with a gruff voice, held David’s shoulders.

  “Son, you have to stay back. The ambulance is almost here.”

  David couldn’t seem to speak, little gasps escaping his lips as he stared at his mother’s crumpled body.

  Nearby, a middle-aged man shouted as he paced around. “It wasn’t my fault! I couldn’t see them until it was too late! Oh my God, oh my God.” Blood trickled down his face, and he ran a hand through his thinning hair, making it stand on end. “I’m sorry. God, I couldn’t see them! There were no tail lights for fuck’s sake! How was I supposed to see them in this?”

  David was motionless, eyes locked on his mother. The policeman tried to ease him back.

  “They’re doing everything they can, son. Do you know her?”

  When David didn’t answer, Isaac did. “That’s his mother.” His voice sounded strangely far away, as though there was a buzzing in his ears. He clutched David’s hand, the leather of their gloves sticking together. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

  He screwed his eyes shut for a moment, praying that when he opened them he’d
have fallen asleep, and he’d still be in that motel bed with scratchy sheets and David wrapped around him. He wanted to weep when he looked around again, but he couldn’t. David was frighteningly pale and still.

  “Then Mary’s your sister?” the officer asked David.

  But David didn’t seem to hear him, his gaze riveted to his mother on the ground a few feet away.

  Isaac’s stomach curdled sickeningly. The driver’s plaintive shout echoed through his head. “How was I supposed to see them?” Oh Lord. Them. Isaac whipped around. “Mary! Mary!”

  The officer raised his hands. “She’s all right. It was a miracle, I tell you. Got thrown clear into a snowbank. Missed hitting a tree by inches. She’s over there.” He called to another officer. “Bukowski! Take this kid to see the girl.”

  Isaac exhaled a long breath and murmured a prayer of thanks that at least Mary was all right. He turned to David, peering at him closely. He shoved his gloves in his pockets and tipped David’s chin toward him. But David’s eyes never left his mother. “David, do you want to see Mary? She’s all right. Did you hear what the policeman said?”

  But Isaac didn’t think David could hear anything. He looked at the officer. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “It’s all right, I’ll watch him. Go see the girl. Poor thing’s in shock too.”

  Isaac squeezed David’s hand so tightly it had to hurt. “I’ll be right back. I need to make sure Mary’s all right. Can you hear me?” He wanted to hold David close, kiss him and tell him everything would be fine. But he stepped back, aching as he walked away, somehow putting one foot in front of the other.

  A policewoman—Bukowski, Isaac assumed— smiled kindly and led him to one of the cruisers. On the other side of the road, an officer directed traffic with flashing sticks as a few vehicles crawled by, full darkness settled in now aside from the eerie colored lights casting everything in a bloody hue.