Trucker and Pup

by Drew Hunt

  “Oh, Sir.”

  Joey smiled and stroked Kevin’s hair gently. “I’m okay. But you should see the other guy.”

  “I’ll go and get something to put on your cuts. That black eye needs ice.” Not waiting for Joey to protest, Kevin turned to the passenger’s door. “I won’t be a minute.” Kevin fumbled with the catch.

  “It’s not necessary.”

  Kevin paused, he didn’t want to disagree with Joey, but he felt he had to. “I’m sorry, Sir, but it is, you’re hurt.”

  “Thanks. It’s nice to have someone looking out for me.”

  Kevin lowered his head. He could feel his cheeks beginning to flush. “Um, yeah.” Kevin wondered why he was behaving as he was.

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but if you’d feel happier, then go and do what you need to, but be quick about it, we’re already running late.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Walking quickly, despite his limp, Kevin was on a mission. He wasn’t sure how he felt about two men fighting over him. He was flattered, but on the other hand he hated violence. The fact that Joey had stood up for him, got hurt for him, raised Joey in his estimations.

  Grabbing a few items from the first aid box, Kevin scuttled back to Joey’s lorry. He saw a rather dishevelled Cal lumbering towards his own vehicle—Kevin gave him a wide berth. No point in tempting fate, he thought.

  “Ouch!” Joey winced as Kevin applied iodine to his cuts.

  “Sorry, Sir, I did warn you.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Joey said through gritted teeth.

  “Well, if you will go off fighting,” Kevin said light-heartedly.

  “I was defending you.”

  Kevin stopped what he was doing and lowered his head. “No one’s ever stuck up for me before,” he whispered.

  Kevin felt a hand rest on his shoulder; he looked up to see a concerned expression on Joey’s face.

  “I was always getting picked on at school. I tried to make friends with a couple of the bigger kids, hoping they’d protect me.”

  “And did they?” Joey rubbed Kevin’s shoulder.

  “Sort of, but they weren’t keen on having a nerd hanging around them all the time.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “No,” Joey sighed. “I guess I was a bit of a bully at school, I never really saw things from the other person’s point of view.”

  “There’s no reason why you should, you being strong and tough and everything.”

  Joey sighed, obviously thinking about things in his past.

  “There, you’ll do,” Kevin said, finishing patching up Joey’s face and hands. “You might not win any beauty competitions for a few weeks, but there shouldn’t be any permanent damage.”

  “You saying I’d win one normally?”

  Kevin felt his face heat up. He hated that he blushed way too easily.

  Joey ruffled Kevin’s hair. “You go and put the stuff back, then we really have to be going.”

  Kevin nodded. “Sorry there was no ice. Mr Parker must have used it all. I’m sorry I didn’t check it yesterday.”

  Joey took Kevin’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “How were you to know I’d need ice today? And anyway, I wouldn’t be able to drive with an ice pack stuck on my face.”

  “True.”

  “Now go on, scram.” Joey waved his hand at the passenger’s door.

  As he limped back to the main building, Kevin felt a warm glow wash over him. Maybe he’d misjudged Joey. Underneath the man was kind, gentle, and…

  Packing away the unused Band Aids, antiseptic ointment and iodine, Kevin couldn’t help but to recall the events of the previous night. Joey had been wonderful. No one, least of all Cal, had shown him such kindness and consideration before. Though Cal had his moments of tenderness—Kevin had lived for those—they were few and far between. But last night, Joey had carried him around his flat, fed him—although the food wasn’t up to much—then he’d talked with him, and best of all held him all night long without making any sexual demands on him. With a jolt, Kevin realised he was falling for the big lorry driver. The thought scared him; Kevin knew he wasn’t ready for a relationship. It was highly unlikely Joey wanted him anyway.

  * * * *

  The air brakes hissed as Joey brought the wagon to a halt. Looking over to the passenger seat, he couldn’t help the broad smile as he looked fondly at the small form of Kevin all curled up and fast asleep. Their late night, plus the pain-killers Joey had insisted Kevin take for his ankle no doubt had contributed to the man’s tiredness.

  He does look like a puppy, Joey thought.

  Although the run was over, Joey was reluctant to leave his cab; he didn’t want to break the spell. It had been great having someone along for the ride. Sure he’d often pick up a hitch-hiker or two, now and again he’d use the bed in the back of the cab to unload his balls into one or maybe both of his passenger’s holes, but today had been different, there were no expectations of sex, and to his surprise, he was perfectly comfortable with that.

  Thankfully the traffic had been fairly light, so they’d made good time. So much so Joey had decided they could pull in at a service station and have a decent lunch. Normally he’d just grab a quick bite at a greasy spoon, but he decided to push the boat out for once. Kevin hadn’t eaten much. At first Joey thought that the man wasn’t feeling well, but Kevin had reassured him he only had a small appetite.

  “There’s not much of me to feed, and ’cause I don’t have a manual job, I don’t need that much food to keep me going.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” Joey hadn’t been entirely convinced; this was borne out when it came time to pay for the meal. It turned out Kevin hadn’t had that much money with him. Joey had been going to pay for the meal anyway, but he kicked himself for not telling Kevin this at the start.

  On the way out Joey had bought a French stick filled with chicken and salad. “There, that should keep you going.”

  “Oh, Sir, I…“

  “Not another word.”

  Joey had put an arm around the smaller man and helped him out of the restaurant. The man still had a limp, though Kevin had assured Joey it was getting better.

  “Come on, we better use the bogs while we can.” Joey had guided his mate towards the gent’s toilets.

  “Do you need a cubicle?”

  “No, Sir, it’s fine.”

  A middle aged balding man must have heard Kevin’s comments because he had started sniggering. Joey had treated the guy to one of his menacing looks, backing it up with a flexing of his muscles. “You got a problem, pal?”

  “Um, no,” the man had said before fleeing the toilets, forgetting to wash his hands.

  Joey had then felt Kevin shake a little. As there was no one else in the room, he had bent down and gave Kevin a soft kiss on the lips. “Ignore him, he doesn’t matter.”

  “Sorry if I embarrassed you, Sir.”

  “You didn’t. I think it’s great that you wanna call me that. No one’s ever done it, well, not for real anyway.” Feeling he needed to change the subject, Joey had pointed towards the trough. “Better drain the lizards.”

  As they stood at the stainless steel urinal, Joey had noticed from the corner of his eye Kevin checking him out. Joey was proud of his manhood—but he always regretted the fact that he’d lost his foreskin thanks to his parents’ religious beliefs—so he put on a bit of a show. He’d smiled to himself when a few moments later Kevin experienced some difficulty putting away his hardened member.

  The remembered images of the scene in the gents’ toilets stimulated Joey’s bladder. Reluctantly he shook Kevin’s shoulder and said, “Time to wake up. We’re back at Parker’s.”

  Joey watched with rapt attention as Kevin’s eyes opened, his face showing momentary confusion. Understanding soon dawned, their eyes met, and Kevin’s face lit up in pleasure. A warm feeling started to make itself known in Joey’s middle and soon spread outwards. Joey shook his head, concerned at how this
little guy was getting under his skin.

  “What time is it?” Kevin asked through a yawn.

  “Half past four.”

  Kevin stretched. “I better get off home. I need to go to the laundrette before they close.”

  “Bring it round to mine and put it through my washer.” The words had left Joey’s mouth before he could stop them.

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Sure you could. Come on, it’s decided.” Joey opened his door and jumped to the ground. Kevin seemed to be struggling with the catch, so Joey went round to the passenger’s side and opened the door for him.

  “Come ’ere.” Joey opened his arms. Kevin leapt from the cab into the waiting embrace. Tightening his grip, Joey couldn’t help thinking how perfectly Kevin seemed to fit.

  After sniffing Kevin’s hair, Joey planted a tender kiss on the man’s forehead before releasing him. “Just got to use the loo, do the paperwork, then we’ll go to your place to pick up your dirty laundry, okay?”

  “Thanks, Sir.”

  Joey slung an arm around Kevin. “Come on, lean on me.” When they got inside, he asked, “You need to go to the loo as well?”

  “No, Sir, I’m fine.”

  Joey entered the white tiled room and made for one of the cubicles. He’d developed a hard on while holding Kevin, and he wanted a few minutes alone to deal with it.

  It’s weird, Joey thought, moistening the head of his penis prior to masturbating. When I hold him, I don’t wanna fuck his brains out, I just wanna… Joey couldn’t decide what he wanted to do. Sure, he thought the guy was as cute as a button, he got off on the smaller man’s vulnerability, his deference. But what did he really feel? He shelved the thoughts as his passions ascended towards climax. He brought up fantasy images of Kevin prostrating himself in front of him, of Kevin kneeling and begging to be allowed to service him. Joey finally shot his bolt when he imagined Kevin on his stomach, licking Joey’s feet.

  Joey needed a few seconds to catch his breath, he’d shot a larger load than usual. He believed this was partially due to his lurid thoughts, but also he hadn’t come in over twenty-four hours. Once he’d cleaned up, Joey took a shit, wiped his arse, and then after washing his hands went in search of Kevin.

  “Here we go, just sign and we’re finished,” Kevin said, greeting Joey with a smile.

  Giving the paperwork a quick once over, Joey noted that all was correct. “Thanks, Pup, I hate this part of the job.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m the one who usually has to decipher what you’ve put. You’ve got the worst handwriting of all the drivers.”

  “Don’t be cheeky.” Joey reached out to box Kevin’s ears. Kevin gave out a frightened squeak before dropping to the floor and curling up into a ball.

  What the fuck? It took Joey a couple of seconds to process what had happened, he’d only been joking around. What the hell has this bloke been through to make him like this?

  Getting down on his knees next to the shaking man, Joey gently reached out a hand.

  Kevin flinched away.

  “I’m sorry, Pup.” Joey tried to sound as gentle and reassuring as he could. “I’d never hurt you.” Joey found his voice was cracking with emotion. It was true; he couldn’t imagine causing harm to the gentle soul he’d befriended. “I’m gonna put my hands on your shoulders, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

  Joey reached out his large, work-roughened hands and gently rested them on Kevin’s shoulders. He could feel the tremors coming from the smaller man, but Joey held still, hoping some measure of calmness would flow out of him and into the troubled younger man.

  Eventually Kevin’s shakes lessened, Joey gently squeezing the man’s shoulders in encouragement, speaking quietly and reassuringly to him all the while.

  Releasing his hold, Joey remained on his knees and opened his arms. “Pup.”

  Kevin seemed to snap out of whatever nightmare he’d been in, and launched himself at Joey. He wrapped his thin arms around Joey’s bulk and squeezed hard. Joey pulled his own arms around his smaller companion, but was careful not to apply too much pressure.

  Neither man spoke for the next few minutes; Joey just listened to his friend’s breathing and occasional sniffle.

  Deciding to break the silence, Joey pulled back and cupped Kevin’s face in his hands. “What happened?”

  “Sorry, Sir, I remembered when I’d filled in the same forms for Cal.” He shuddered.

  Joey pulled Kevin back into his chest.

  “He said I’d made a mistake with the mileage,” Kevin mumbled into Joey’s shoulder, “And he…Well, he got mad. That was,” Kevin swallowed, “That was when I got this.” Kevin released himself from Joey, pulled up his shirt, turned round and pointed to the belt buckle shaped mark on his back.

  Joey wished he’d killed Cal that morning when he’d had the chance. He’d stopped his assault when the other man promised he’d not go within ten feet of Kevin ever again.

  “Sorry,” Joey said through a tightened throat. “I had no idea. I was only being playful with you earlier, I wouldn’t, I just couldn’t hurt you like that.”

  Kevin lowered his shirt and turned to face Joey, who took hold of Kevin’s hands.

  “I’ve been a bully, more like Cal than I’m comfortable about telling you. But…” Joey shook his head, he couldn’t put into words how Kevin had shown him a different way. “But I promise, I won’t hurt you.” Joey stood and began to stretch his hamstrings. “Ouch, all this kneeling has sent my legs to sleep.”

  Sitting on the edge of the desk, Joey reached out and ran a hand through Kevin’s hair, he didn’t know why he was drawn so much to the man’s brown mop of straight hair, but somehow he found it comforting to touch, he hoped Kevin got a similar sense of peace from the gesture, too.

  “Do you want me to take you home, and you can do your laundry yourself? I mean, if you, um, want to be alone.”

  Kevin, who was kneeling on the floor, leant against Joey’s leg and wrapped an arm around it. Resting his head on Joey’s knee, he looked up at the seated man. “No, Sir, if the offer’s still open, then I’d like to wash my clothes at your place.”

  Joey nodded, before ruffling Kevin’s hair again.

  Chapter 2

  “Oy, if I didn’t take care of you, I swear you’d fall through the gaps in the pavement.”

  “Ma, don’t fuss.”

  “Now you listen to your mother, Joey Goldman.”

  Kevin watched in mild amusement as the diminutive, grey-haired, mature woman, took over the kitchen as well as Joey himself. It was fascinating to see the alpha male defer to his mother as she continued to harangue him for various perceived misdeeds.

  Kevin and Joey had only just set the washing machine going with its first load, when they’d heard the front door opening, a tower of Tupperware boxes with legs coming through it.

  “Feh, my Joey a balagoleh!” She paused in her unpacking of the pile of food containers, a sour expression on her face.

  “Balagoleh is Jewish for lorry driver,” Joey translated for Kevin.

  Kevin smiled in gratitude, but his thoughts were soon brought back to Joey’s mother.

  “…when your dad and me had our hearts so set on you becoming a doctor.” She sighed dramatically. “You could have done so much better for yourself, Joey. Look at Peter Rosenthal. He sat all his exams, and he’s now a bank manager. Why couldn’t you have done something to make your mother proud?”

  “Ma, Peter Rosenthal is a snivelling little pain in the arse…um, rear. And anyway he’s only an assistant bank manager.”

  Joey’s mother didn’t seem to be listening; she just continued to empty her Tupperware boxes.

  “Ma, I’ll never eat all this,” Joey said, gesturing at the mountain of food.

  “Feh, it’s only a few leftovers.”

  Kevin watched as the entire worktop soon was covered in various strange looking foodstuffs.

  Turning to Kevin, Joey said, “My mother has been feeding her
family leftovers for the past thirty years, I’ve yet to see the original meal.”

  Kevin couldn’t help giggling, which stopped immediately when Mrs Goldman fixed him with a look.

  “Are you Jewish, young man?”

  “Oh no, Mrs, um, Goldman, if anything I suppose I’m an atheist.”

  “Feh, that’s stupid, atheists don’t get any religious holidays.”

  Joey started to snigger, but he stopped when the look was turned on him.

  “I’ll heat up this chicken soup. You’ll have some, won’t you?” she turned to Kevin. “Even atheists have to eat.”

  “Ma, I was going to order a pizza.”

  “Pizza?” Mrs Goldman’s eyebrows disappeared into her iron-grey hairline. “You want to eat Italian take away food, when your mother has sweated over a hot stove all day to make sure her only son gets a wholesome meal into him?” Turning back to Kevin, “I bet you don’t disrespect your mother like that, do you?”

  Kevin battled not to show any outward signs of distress. He hadn’t spoken with his mother in over five years, not since she and his father disowned him. “No, Mrs Goldman.”

  “See, Joey? Your friend, um…”

  “Kevin,” Joey supplied.

  “He does what his mother tells him. Now sit down, I’ll soon have it ready.”

  Bowing to the inevitable, Joey took his seat. “You got kreplach?”

  “Sure I got kreplach. There’s lokshon, too.”

  Kevin looked confused, not sure he was going to like the foreign food, but felt too shy, not to say scared, to say anything.

  “It’s okay.” Joey whispered. “Ma’s a good cook.”

  “What are, um, these crepe things?”

  Mrs Goldman must have heard him. “You not had kreplach before?”

  Kevin shook his head.

  “Oh, you haven’t lived,” Joey smiled, obviously trying to get into his mother’s good books. “They’re dough balls filled with meat. And lokshon is noodles.”

  Joey’s stomach rumbled. His mother took this as further evidence she was correct in her assumption that her son wasn’t eating properly. “All that food you get at those service stations. I bet it isn’t kosher.”