by Marcel Miska
Fabio couldn’t help the small, sharp squawk that came out and he snatched his hand away from his aching dick. This was just what he needed, to be thinking about surely-straight boys. Even his fantasies were filled with things he couldn’t have. What a fucking joke.
He sighed. In that split second, even fantasy Julian’s eyes were filled understanding. Lust, certainly. But a sort of encompassing, burning desire that went beyond the physical, one that meant a meeting of minds and souls, not just bodies.
He blinked away the wetness welling up in the corner of his eyes, batting free a tear that slid scalding down his cheek. Today, Julian had been the first person since his mother’s funeral to look at him with interest, to look at him like a person rather than an orphan to be pitied. It was different than the well-meaning sympathy he’d seen in the eyes of the mourners in the funeral home, the social workers, even his new foster parents. Julian looked at him in a way that made him feel human.
Which made fantasizing about him all the stupider. Julian seems like the perfect guy, and in another life, Fabio wouldn’t hesitate to make his interest known. But this was McKinley, rural Minnesota. People like Julian would always be out of his reach as long as he lived here. Being friends, though… that could be tolerable. Good, even. Goodness knows I need them in this town.
He wiped a hand across his face, heaving another deep sigh. His hand came away wet, and looking at the moisture glinting in the low light seemed to open a floodgate. Hot tears rolled silently down his cheeks as the loneliness hit him in the gut, full force. He was so tired. His mother was dead and he was adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces and unfriendly attitudes. What he wouldn’t give to see her smile one last time, to feel her cool hand on his cheek. Please. Please.
The tears eventually subsided, and Fabio slipped into a fitful sleep the first night of his new life.
Chapter 4
The first few weeks passed by in a blur of meeting new people and getting his bearings in McKinley. It was a lot to process in a short of amount of time. It felt like years since he’d watched his mother’s chest sink with the release of her last breath in that cold, sterile hospital bed, but in reality, it had only been a few months. These verdant pine forests seemed so vibrant in comparison to his memories of hospitals and welfare offices, halls that smelled like disinfectant and floors tiled in gray-washed linoleum. It seemed like another life now.
There was something soothing about the monotony of the trees slipping by as he ran, calming in its predictability. The wind tousled his hair, and if he closed his eyes he could pretend he was a child, kneeling at his mother’s feet while she developed photographs and absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair. Despite how far north they were, this time of year it was like a furnace outside. The mercury hadn’t dipped below ninety degrees for the past week, and the heat wave showed no signs of letting up any time soon.
Running felt cathartic. It was freeing to get out of the house, to run away from his problems for a little while. The slight, hot breeze, the heavy impact of his feet on the pavement, the sweat running between his shoulder blades to collect at the small of his back. Fabio felt like his body was sweating out the impurities and inferiorities, leaving him cleaner and better for it. Not to mention this was the first time he got to break out his tiny running shorts he knew showed off all his assets. Not that there was anyone looking – at least not boys – and the LaPortes were thankfully still in the dark when it came to his sexuality, but just the act of wearing them felt like a rebellion. A quiet, secret rebellion, but a rebellion nevertheless.
The sun burned hot overhead; the hottest part of the day was just beginning, and Fabio was getting back just in time for Kathy’s usual Saturday lunch. He slowed his pace as he turned onto the road where the LaPorte home sat in all its plainness, trying to calm his heartbeat with a light jog for a cool down. The Kane home came into view, and as Fabio approached he could see Julian, golden skin bared from the waist up and knees down, mowing the lawn.
When he caught sight of the strong muscles shifting across the back of Julian’s shoulders, he nearly stumbled. He got his feet back under him, just in time for Julian to reach the fence between the LaPorte and Kane properties and turn around, making his way back across the yard where he has come from. It took the other boy a few moments, a few of Fabio’s suddenly rapid heartbeats, to notice Fabio slowing to a walk, coming toward him. He reached and toggled the off switch, quieting the lawnmower.
“You ran in this weather?” Julian teased as Fabio came to a stop next to him, breathing heavy. Julian wiped his brow, flashing the underside of a bronzed, toned forearm. “You’ve got to be crazy. The only reason I’m outside is that Mom promised me twenty bucks if I mowed and I need that money to go to the movies tomorrow”.
Fabio chuckled. “It feels good. To just forget everything but the pumping of your legs for a while”. Julian nodded sagely, looking off into the sky somewhere beyond Fabio’s right shoulder, thoughtful.
“I can understand that. You getting your bearings all right? I bet the jogging helps with that”. Julian’s moss green gaze swiveled over and down to meet his and Fabio felt pinning in place by the taller boy’s stare, like a butterfly to a board. It wasn’t a new feeling; every time they were this close and all of Julian’s attention fell on him, Fabio felt his heart beat faster and his breaths come a little shorter. He’d thankfully stopped babbling like an idiot when this happened, when everything would sort of go white around the edges and all he could see was Julian, but the clench in his chest had only gotten worse over the near month he’d been friends with the blond boy.
Something about spending time with Julian worked to stitch together the wound that his mother’s passing had torn into his chest, slowly and carefully pulling the edges together. More than that, though, the other boy’s friendship worked to hush and soften the whistling gap where he felt his heart used to be. Julian was patient and kind and always made sure to include Fabio in activities with his school friends and the feeling Fabio got when he was around him, when those intelligent eyes were trained on him (and him alone, it felt) made him feel like maybe his heart might still be there after all. It certainly seemed to beat faster in his presence, after all.
“Yes,” Fabio answered simply. Running had gotten him worked up and even though he was starting to catch his breath, Julian’s proximity was intoxicating. He could feel himself leaning in and had to consciously stop himself. Julian had a gravity about him, that way.
“Has anyone taken you to The Plain yet?” Julian asked, oblivious to the electric tingle his singular attention sent zinging along Fabio’s skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“No, I don’t think so. That doesn’t sound familiar. Is it like, an airplane?” Julian laughed and the sweat soaking through Fabio’s shirt turned cold and his hair stood on end in the very best of ways.
“Nope. It’s literally a plain, like a wide open field. It’s got a great view of the nearby table-top mountains. Golden waves of grain Americana and all that. Wanna go?”
“What, like now?”
“Yeah, sure, why not?”
Fabio looked over at the house where he knew Kathy was preparing lunch. It was a weekly affair, just for her and her girlfriends, but Kathy was a good cook and Fabio always made a point to make time for the Saturday meal. Ron often did too, though he’d make himself a plate and go watch baseball in the living room, muttering about hens and clucking. Fabio could care less; Kathy’s food was better than making himself a sandwich. His stomach growled just thinking about it, and Julian laughed yet again. It was a sound Fabio enjoyed pulling out of the other boy.
“I know all about Kathy’s lunches. I bet my mom is over there now, helping”. He sighed contentedly, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. The sun followed his fingers, making his hair look like burnished bronze. “Why don’t you go over and get changed into dry clothes and ask Kath to make us up a packed lunch. Compliment her food and she’ll be so flattered she’ll do a
nything”. He punctuated the last with a wink and Fabio could feel the flush that had been dissipating flare up anew. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, looking off toward the LaPorte’s, avoiding eye contact.
“Yeah, I bet she will,” he replied, cheeks still hot. “Meet you back here in twenty?”
“Sounds good, man!” Julian returned with a grin, turning back to the mower. He didn’t seem to have noticed the Fabio’s blush, but Fabio couldn’t ignore the way Julian’s shorts tugged at the curves of his ass if he tried.
***
A little under half an hour later, Fabio bounced in the front seat of Julian’s old, beat-up pick-up truck, cradling his mother’s camera in his lap. The navy blue clunker was older than both of them, but Julian maintained it himself with parts he exchanged for labor at Bishop’s Autobody in the middle of town and elbow grease. Julian was a natural with cars – engines of any type, really – and as they drove down the tree-lined backroads, Julian chatted excitedly about how he’d gotten to work on a ’69 Chevy Corvette the other day, how he’d helped Kenny Bishop hauled the engine out and take it apart, how he’d gotten to help put it back together piece by piece. Fabio knew nothing of cars or mechanics, but he could listen to Julian talk this passionately about anything all day.
The drive itself only takes about twenty minutes, like everything out here does. They pull off onto a nondescript patch of dirt with a few wooden posts marking it off from the forest beyond.
“Now, it’s not super exciting, but it is a pretty view. A lot of us come out here, time to time, for bonfires or drinking parties”. Julian led them between two posts onto a dirt path, speaking over his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure the local PD knows underage drinking goes on out here, but twenty years ago they were all out here themselves, so they give us a break”. Fabio laughed and opened his mouth to reply, but the words died in his mouth when they finally broke through the tree line and into the open air.
Julian had truly undersold The Plain. It was beautiful, something his mother would have wanted to photograph, and he was grateful he’d thought to grab the camera in his haste to get back to Julian. Huge, flat plains spread out in a shallow valley before them, covered in a shimmering coat of tall, golden grass that rippled in the breeze whipping through the dale. The vast fields that stretched out and away into the horizon were dotted with gentle, sloping hills carpeted in pine trees.
It was only the light-headedness that reminded Fabio to breathe. He sucked in a sharp breath, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Julian turn his head. He glanced over and saw a cocky smirk playing across Julian’s lips, and knew he’d been taken for a ride about how “unexciting” The Plain was. The jerk knew exactly how gorgeous it was and how enchanted Fabio would be, after hearing about Fabio’s travels with his mother. Fabio shook his head with a rueful grin of his own before raising his camera to snap a photo of Julian backlit by hot, yellow light.
He turned back the panorama and felt something catch in his chest. It felt like he could see forever and it made him feel insignificant and powerful all at once. Being a small human in such a wide-open space lent a little perspective; if there was a place as big as this, so big as to humble any human that entered it, the world itself was even large. There had to be a place for him somewhere, a place where he could be himself, love the men he wanted to love, and find a sense of belonging he felt like he’d been missing most of his life. McKinley wasn’t that place, but it was a reminder that life was bigger than just the moment in which he was stuck.
“You ever think about what you’re going to do, after high school?” Julian asked. When Fabio glanced over, his face was still in profile. He looked pensive.
“I guess...” Fabio began. “My mother was a photographer. Landscapes and nature, mostly. I… I think I want to do that. I hear there are some good schools for it out in California; mom said I was a natural at composition and lighting, that I’d make a good photog”.
Julian turned to look at him, interest in his eyes. He gestured to the camera cradled in Fabio’s hands. “Can I see?”
Fabio tilted the camera toward the other boy. Julian shuffled closer and set his elbow on Fabio’s shoulder, peering down at the digital screen. His fingers brushed Fabio’s as he toggled the button to scroll through the images. Fabio held his breath while Julian took his time, examining each image. After what felt like hours, Julian spoke.
“Man, I’m not an art critic or anything… I don’t even really like art! But these are really good. I bet you could get into any art school you wanted with these”. He kept scrolling, and Fabio felt a flush creeping up his neck at the praise.
Fabio hazarded a look up, only to find Julian watching him, smiling, before looking off into the distance, practically glowing in the already lengthening light of afternoon. In a different life, I could love this boy, Fabio finds himself thinking. Thoughts like these are dangerous, but Fabio knows that battle was lost as soon as Julian said hello. If he’s honest with himself – and he tried very hard not to be, when it came to Julian – the entire war might be a lost cause.
Chapter 5
If Fabio were anyone else, he would probably think that being stuck inside the LaPorte family hardware store on such a ridiculously hot day was unfair, but in his experience life was rarely fair and it generally it wasn’t worth the effort it took to complain about it. Ron owned the store, imaginatively named “LaPorte hardware”, title and deed and employed about four regular employees year round. Julian usually worked the summers between school years, to make some spending money and get out of the house when he wasn’t working on his pick-up. Fabio, for his part, was expected to help out around the store when asked, though he did get a little pocket-change for his trouble. Further excuses to spend time with Julian weren’t half bad either, and Fabio relished the closeness of the store, especially when Ron wasn’t there.
Ron was out on business for the rest of the work day. He’d left some time around ten, and Fabio wasn’t going to complain. Ron was loud, brash, and judgmental, not to mention a huge gossip. Often he’d talk about the folks that came into the store after they left, sometimes even to other patrons, who were often as bad as Ron himself.
One time in particular stuck out in Fabio’s memory: a middle-aged man had come in to pick up screens Julian had just finished repairing. When he’d left, Ron had gleefully told the two of them that the customer’s son was a “fruit, off at some liberal, hippy Californian college, Santa Barbara or whatever”, and had added that “California is welcome to take all the fags. The more that leave here, the better”.
That day, Fabio could barely contain his anger and frustrated rage. The one thing that softened the blow, however, was Julian. Julian, whom he could see over Ron’s shoulder, cringed. They locked eyes and Julian had given Fabio a pained, commiserating smile, and Fabio had the fleeting thought that maybe one day he could tell Julian he was gay. Probably never that he is attracted to him, because straight guys tend not to handle that sort of confession well, but that day left Fabio confident Julian wouldn’t abandon him if he were to find out his predilections. It would be such a relief, to get it off his chest. To someone, especially someone he trusted like Julian. He’d never make a move on Julian, but the idea of being honest, being himself completely, to at least one other person, made Fabio’s chest ache with want.
Ron was, if Fabio was being kind, a spendthrift; even though it was the middle of August, his foster father steadfastly refused to turn on the air conditioning. The back room where Fabio sat sorting screws by size and manufacture had a ceiling fan, at least, and combined with the weak breeze tumbling through the two open windows it was tolerable. He’d found sitting on the poured concrete floor while he sorted helped to stave off the worst of the heat, and it looked like he’d make it to lunch without having a heat stroke. That optimism, however, evaporated the moment Julian walked through the door.
The other boy hefted a large box, walking deliberately and carefully around the others strewn about
the floor of the back room, looking for a place to set it down. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Fabio recognized that this was probably the delivery they were expecting today, but it was a thought that fled like smoke from between his fingers when all he could see were lean, muscular legs.
The shorts Julian was sporting were short. Athletic running shorts, probably, but they left miles of leg on display and little to the imagination. Fabio could feel his chest prickle with a hot blush. He looked away, swallowing hard, concentrating on the little metal spirals he realized he’d been squeezing so hard in his fist that they left sharp, little marks in the skin of his palm. At least he could blame his flush on the heat.
Deliberately, he dropped each screw into the right plastic drawer. Julian was moving somewhere behind him, but he kept his focus on the task at hand. This attraction was so difficult; besides being gorgeous, Julian was his best friend. The best thing about this whole, godforsaken place, really. Julian was the one kind thing in his life, the one person with whom he could almost be himself. He could never do anything to jeopardize that.
“Hey,” Julian said from over his right shoulder, bringing Fabio back to reality. His long, distractingly bare legs folded up under him so that he sat cross-legged at Fabio’s side. “I thought you could probably use this”. He gently tossed a cold bottle of water up into the air above Fabio’s lap, which he caught in a graceless fumble. If he’d known it would pull that beautiful peal of laughter out of Julian, he would have done it on purpose.
“Ron’s got you on sorting duty, huh? That’s pretty rough”. Fabio unscrewed the cap and took a sip, the water blessedly chilled. After a few gulps, he recovered enough wherewithal to manage an answer.