by J. P. Scott
The reservoir was surrounded by National Forest and serviced by the park system. By comparison to other lakes in the state, it was small. It still boasted fishing, camping, and other light water activities like kayaking, swimming, and personal water craft.
I scrolled through the images of a canyon filled with water and surrounded by trees. The shores were rocky with limited beach areas. I found a map and scanned the established campsites. There were long sections of shoreline where there were no campsites and I deduced the shore was too rocky and inaccessible. I pulled out the clippings of Grey Whitlock and reread the article about his suicide—he was found at West Fork Road at what looked like a dead end.
I zoomed in on the map to get a better idea of the area. It looked like there were picnic tables scattered for day campers and fisherman but no overnight services. It was remote. I doubted the average person ever got that far unless they knew what was there and wanted to be alone. Without needing to be in the office for a few days, I had plenty of time to go investigate Gray’s thinking spot.
I texted Cody and asked if he wanted to go for a drive. Almost instantly there were bubbles showing he was responding. He asked me to pick him up at the turn onto the highway.
“I’m glad you have off work today.” My car picked up speed on the highway headed in the direction of Payson. Crystal Reservoir was not too far from the Rim. Cody sat next to me.
“Me, too. I’m so exhausted. Too many double shifts.”
“I know Jim and Molly appreciate it.”
“I’ve been wanting to hang out with you though. I miss you.”
We looked at each other and each smiled, “You can crash at my place anytime.”
Cody shook his head and changed the radio station, looking for music that he knew. “It’s actually nice—having time off and getting away. When I saw your text this morning my heart raced a bit. I knew I hadn’t been imaging all of this.”
“Did you think I wasn’t real?”
“You’re not the first guy I’ve been attracted to. At first I struggled to understand why feelings could be so intense and then fade so quickly.”
“Guys seem to be weird that way. We want the new and now.”
Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. Cody’s experience was similar to mine and probably every gay man’s in the world. We would meet someone and think we had found The One only to find the next morning the man in bed was as much as stranger as he had been when eyes first locked at the bar. There could be promises of getting back together again but it did not materialize—the next night a new conquest for both.
What was happening with Josh was pretty much the same. It was a bit more drawn out, but definitely the same emotionally. If circumstances were different and we were not in neighboring cabins with George as a connection, we might simply wave in passing.
I wondered how many men I had known who gave me the cold shoulder might have had complicated reasons like Josh did. The distance that living in a city can create was a simple way to make one thing not complicated.
“I could have brought some dessert from the restaurant if I knew you were bringing a picnic lunch.”
I laughed, “I wasn’t sure how long we would be gone—it’s just some sandwiches and chips. Nothing fancy.”
“Crystal is pretty. There are some good hiking trails in the area if you’re up for it.”
“I’m interested in one spot in particular. After that, if there’s any place you want to go, just point me in the right direction.”
Cody’s forehead wrinkled, “What’s the place?”
“You’ll think it’s silly.”
We approached the turn off—much sooner than I had mapped out in my head. The road into the reservoir was a two-lane paved road. Signs showed a marina and campgrounds ahead and West Fork Road veered to the left.
“So, what is this place? You know I grew up around here. I can probably point out the best views.” Cody’s voice cracked. Was he nervous about something?
“I read about someone in the newspaper—old articles I found. Fifteen years ago, he came out here and killed himself.”
“I hope we’re not planning on a repeat today.”
I shook my head. “No, nothing like that.” The pavement gave way to a gravel road and I slowed as dust billowed behind us and the car shook because of the unevenness.
“Everyone knows about Gray Whitlock,” Cody said. I almost slammed on my brakes in shock. “That’s who you are talking about. He’s the one who committed suicide.”
“I didn’t realize it was that famous of a story.”
“I think I’ve heard hundreds of versions of how he died and ghost stories of people thinking they’ve seen him out here.” Cody looked out the passenger window at the passing trees.
“Any credible stories?”
Cody waved his hand, “Slow down. The road ends just up ahead. There. Park by that picnic table.”
I pulled in to where Cody pointed. The road ahead came to a cul-de-sac and appeared to be the end of the line. I remember the area from the map.
“This is it.”
I tried to recall the picture from the paper. There had been a fallen tree near the water. We got out of the car and I followed Cody until he stopped.
“I think it was around here.”
I looked around uncertain, “Where’s the tree.”
“Hacked up for firewood? Washed away in a storm? Who knows?”
A light wind made small waves in the water and rustled the leaves. It was quiet. An idyllic place to end it all if you had to, I supposed. I could picture Gray coming here and spending hours thinking—but about what?
We had walked far enough from the road that we were slightly hidden by trees. A car was approaching slowly. I assumed when the driver saw the dead end it would make the turn and head back out. Instead, it parked and the male driver exited the vehicle.
Cody looked at his phone for the time, “Some things haven’t changed.”
“What do you mean?”
Cody put a finger to his lips, “Sshhh.”
I narrowed my eyes in a question but did not say the words. Instead Cody kissed me, his lips light and warm. We encircled each other in an embrace.
I heard another car approach and repeat the actions of the first. I pulled back from the kiss.
Cody’s smile was devilish. He had a secret.
“What is going on? Why is it so busy out here? I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone.”
“That’s the point. Guys like to come out here where no one’s going to see them. I’m pretty sure that’s Dennis and Joe—they’ve been coming out here to suck cock for years now.”
“And how do you know all this?” I asked but I knew as soon as the question left my mouth. Cody had been out here before to hook up with guys. He probably knew the names of those two guys because he had been with them—and with them out here. I held my hands up, “I don’t think you need to answer that.”
There were places down in Phoenix where men could go for the same thing. There were arcades at adult bookstores, parks, and bathrooms at the mall that were all known to be cruising spots. Before the internet and apps, there were not a lot of options for closeted men. I was surprised that there would still be an active place here—and one that a young guy like Cody would know about.
“It looks like there’s a million things running through your brain.” Cody stepped closer and grabbed by hands. “Are you okay?”
“I’m processing a lot, that’s for sure. It never crossed my mind that we were coming to a place where guys hook up.”
“…or that I have been here for that very reason.”
I looked at him directly. There was sadness in his eyes. He was worried that I might not understand the choices that he had made in his life.
“I’ve been to places myself. You’re young, but I know I’m not the first guy that you’ve been with—you’re too good in bed. That doesn’t bother me.”
Cody’s shoulders relaxed and h
e squeezed my hand.
“You’re going to have to find some other excuse for us not to date.”
I looked around us. Waves hit the shore and leaves fluttered in the breeze. Other than that, we were surrounded by silence. The seclusion was perfect for a romantic tryst—but also a good place to sit and think. Was that Gray’s intention?
“Do you think the suicide was connected to what goes on here?”
“What do you mean?”
Cody folded his arms and took a step back, “Well, why might Gray have come here? Maybe he used to come here because he was gay. Maybe that’s why he killed himself.”
“He was married…had a kid. I’ve heard or read nothing to suggest that he was unhappy with his marriage. I met his wife—she said nothing.” But why would she? If she knew or suspected her husband was gay, why would she tell me? I was a stranger and it was none of my business to know her family’s secrets. It stood to reason that she would tell me enough to send me on my way and possibly feel like there was nothing more to discover.
“Married guys are common here. They get married to a woman because they had to. They are scared but also need to get their needs met. No matter how much success they have in their life or how perfect everything looks like on the outside, they are lonely. It’s not too hard to believe someone would kill themselves over it.”
That could explain why there was no evidence of a motive for suicide. It all could have been hushed up to protect the image of a prominent member of the community.
“Are there any rumors about Gray that you’ve ever heard?”
“Like I said before, I’ve heard hundreds of rumors. It’s possible that I’ve heard people wonder if he was gay. Or maybe I connected the dots myself.”
I stood there pondering everything. The death of Gray Whitlock had seemed like fiction at first. It was something I read about but was disconnected from. Now it felt more personal. Suicide was not uncommon in the gay community and for many reasons. If a gay man in the city, connected to other gay men, could feel trapped and desperate, how much harder could it be for someone in a small town? The football star married to his high school sweetheart. The dentist who half of the town went to every six months. He probably served on boards and was deeply involved in other community affairs. People would have expectations on who and what Gray Whitlock should be. I doubted gay was high on the list.
“We should find a place to sit and eat,” Cody said. “Maybe away from the suicides and the blow jobs, if you don’t mind.”
We got back in the car and drove down a bit to another picnic table that offered a view of the lake. I passed out the sandwiches and cans of soda. Cody opened a bag of chips and set it between us.
“Sorry if this hasn’t been a very romantic date.” It was one of the strangest dates I had ever been on.
Cody smiled and pushed back his bangs, “It’s been interesting. But I like spending time with you. I’ll think about other places we can drive to on my days off. There are some great drives in the area.”
“That would be great.” I reached across the table to grab Cody’s hand. “I like spending time with you, too.”
“Do you like to fish? We can come out sometime and head out on the lake. It’s so peaceful here. My parents have a boat—we all used to spend a lot of time out here together.”
“I’ve never fished.”
“You’re kidding!” His eyes widened in shock, “I’m going to teach you!”
“I’d also like to get Beau out here. He’d love it.”
“Why didn’t you bring him today?”
“I should have. I wasn’t really sure what we would be doing or how long we would be gone.”
We ate and basked in the sunlight that managed to push aside the pines. We had not spent a lot of time like this, just being together and getting to know each other. The lake and fishing led to stories of Cody and his family.
“My dad worked a lot. He did want me to play sports so I signed up for little league one year, hoping he would spend more time with me if I was doing something he liked. He came to a few practices and games, but it was nothing like the other kids had with their dads. I started skipping games. When my dad didn’t even notice, I quit all together. That’s when I started hanging out at the library.”
“Is that when you started writing?”
“That was in high school. I took a creative writing class when there were no other electives available. I thought I could goof off for a semester.”
“But you liked it.”
I laughed. I had never really talked with anyone about this before. “I hated it. Either I could not think of what to write or I could not get the story in my head on to paper.”
“Then how…”
I exhaled, thinking back to those high school days. Sometimes they felt like only yesterday and other times they were an ancient memory. “By mid-semester I was failing the class and starting to realize it was going to hurt my GPA. I begged my teacher for help and any extra credit. Twice a week we worked after school on my writing. We tried every technique to spur creativity so I could redo the assignments I had either not taken seriously or even turned in at all. By the end I had a C+ and had written some stories I liked and that my teacher said showed promise. One I even entered in a contest and won third place.”
“Does your teacher know that you’re a writer now?”
“He does. My first book I dedicated to him and sent him a signed copy.”
“I’m sure he was impressed.”
I coughed and shook my head, “He sent it back with notes in the margin. He looked forward to a revised draft.”
“Shut up. What a jerk!”
“I thought so, too, at the time. Two years ago, I reread that first book and looked at his notes. He was right about everything.”
Silence surrounded us for a bit until Cody said, “It takes a lot of guts to put yourself out there with someone you respect. I admire that.”
We ate the rest of our picnic lunch. We turned with the sound of tires on the gravel road and saw the two cars that had been at the dead end. After the dust settled, Cody confirmed it was the guys he had suspected.
The unspoken question remained—was Gray Whitlock part of the group that would have come here in the early 2000’s? Was he a closeted gay man who felt trapped enough that he took his own life?
When we left, we headed down to Payson to grab some groceries. “I’m going to teach you a few things about cooking.” With the day ahead of us and no commitments, we took our time and focused on making each other laugh and being silly.
Back at the cabin we took Beau for a walk until he was worn out and content to nap in his bed in the corner of the living room. I grabbed Cody’s hand and pulled him to the bedroom and shut the door. My skin tingled as we wrapped arms around each other.
“I wanted to kiss you all day.”
Cody laughed, “Why didn’t you?”
“The lake seemed like an odd place…considering.”
I reached down to unbutton Cody’s shorts and reached in to grab his hardening cock. “Maybe we can find a different part of the lake to play.”
I leaned in and kissed his neck and pushed his shorts and underwear down. Then I pulled up on his t-shirt and we parted so it could roll up over his head. He stepped out of his shorts, and I started to disrobe.
Cody mounted the bed on all fours. He looked over his should and winked. I throbbed as I took in the view. His round ass faced me, an invitation. Below, his balls hung and wiggled as he began to stroke himself.
I stepped to him and knelt down so I was face level with his ass. I nuzzled the crack with my nose and enjoyed the touch of the light hair. From a distance, it looked like he had no hair because the blonde was so light. I spread the cheeks with my hand and stuck my tongue out to find his hole. He groaned as I began to make circles and pressed deeper in.
I lowered and ran my tongue over the space between his ass and balls. Cody jerked in surprise but then moved back to my face. He
stopped stroking and reached back to grab my head and pull me closer.
“That feels so good.”
I returned to his hold and rimmed him some more and his moaning intensified. I stuck out my tongue as far as I could and pressed in, widening his hole even more and explored him.
“Oh, my god,” he said.
His moans and writhing spurred me on to do even more to drive him crazy. I pushed his cheeks apart and again pressed in as far as I could, trying to reach deep inside of him. Cody panted and moaned with each wiggle of the tongue. I slapped his ass and grabbed the muscled glutes hard.
“Fuck me,” he said.
I smiled. Normally that was my line. Cody has been an excellent top and I had assumed that was his preference.
I stood and reached for the lube on the night stand. I massaged his hole with my wet fingers and slipped my thumb in as he opened up. He grabbed the comforter and gasped. With my other hand I coated my cock and stepped into place, extracting my thumb slowly.
“Poppers,” he moaned. I retrieved them and he held them under his nose. While he recapped the bottle, I gripped his shoulder to pull him to me and pressed my cock against his ass. We both moaned as I slid inside him.
“Yes, Alex.” I moved my hips back and forth, increasing the speed with each stroke. He was tight around my shaft and it felt amazing. I was worried I might come too quickly. Still, I continued with vigor, hungry for him. His back was damp beneath the grip of my hands and I felt sweat covering my body as well.
I came without warning, but I was not surprised I had not lasted. I made a final thrust as I began to soften and Cody grunted beneath me. I heard him stroking and picking up the pace. I eased out of him and indicated for him to flip over. He moved to sit on the bed’s edge and stroked. I knelt down and put my mouth around his right testicle and hummed.
“I’m coming,” he said in a gasp. Cum shot out and down over us. I closed my eyes as it spattered my face. I sat back after he was done and wiped the cum off and then licked my hand. I savored his taste. We leaned into each other and kissed.
“Don’t expect that all the time,” he whispered.