by L. J. Hamlin
“You’re being lied to, man. I didn’t do it,” Danny argues, but it seems Timmy is done with talking because he steps forward and throws a punch, catching Danny on the chin and causing Danny to stagger back.
“Damn it, Timmy. I didn’t do it,” Danny says, spitting blood and holding his fists up, ready to block, to fight back. He’s not seeing much choice here. He’s going to have to fight. It’s not like anyone will call the fuzz in this neighbourhood. People don’t trust the police, and they don’t want to get involved in greaser kids fighting.
Timmy and his friends start to circle him, and somebody shoves him hard, sending Danny to the ground and knocking the wind out of him. He knows on the ground is a bad place to be in a fight, and like he’s proving that point, Timmy kicks him in the ribs.
Black dots fill his vision as pain coils through his body, and he’s trying to think through the cloud of agony when he hears a screech of tires and a car door opening. Danny can see a gap in the legs circling him. Someone calls his name. He doesn’t know who it is, but he stumbles up and dives for the open door. He clambers into the car and slumps in the seat as the car pulls away from the sidewalk at top speed.
Looking up, Danny recognizes the guy in the driver’s seat: Francis Lime, a friend of Danny’s older brother. Danny hasn’t seen him in a while, but he still wears the same leather jacket. He has blue eyes and blond hair greased up and back. It looks real cool. Danny always looked up to Francis and his brother when they hung out, and Francis has always been nice to him, never treated Danny like he was some annoying kid tagging along. Francis must be twenty-one now, and from what Danny has heard from his brother Phil, Francis has been going to college and working nights, which is why he hasn’t been around as much.
“Thank you,” Danny says, wincing as he settles into his seat. He doesn’t think his ribs are broken, but they sure do hurt.
“What the hell were you thinking? Fighting five guys at once? You run your mouth or something?” Francis asks, checking the mirror of his beat up old ford, like maybe he thinks they’ll be followed.
“I didn’t have a choice about fighting them. They jumped me. And I didn’t say anything. The guy in charge, someone told him I slashed his tires.” Danny doesn’t ask where Francis is heading. He’s just glad to be away from Timmy and his friends. It’s getting dark, but no one expects Danny home. Phil’s with his girl, and his parents aren’t really the type to set a curfew.
“Did you?” Francis asks.
“No, I don’t do stupid shit like that. I try and stay out of trouble, mostly.” Danny shrugs. “Thanks for stopping. A lot of people wouldn’t have gotten involved. I’m sorry if it causes you any trouble.” Danny apologizes.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m going to take you someplace they won’t look for us long enough for them to get bored, then I’ll take you home. You know who damaged the guy’s car?” Francis doesn’t seem stressed at all about the fact he’s probably upset five greasers, but then, he was always a tough guy.
“A buddy of mine did it,” Danny admits.
“And you didn’t tell on him?” Francis asks.
“I’m no tattletale. I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
“That’s a good quality to have, being able to keep a secret,” Francis says, pulling down an unfamiliar road, and Danny realizes he has no idea where they are, how close or far he is from home or even from town.
“Where are we going?” Danny asks. He doesn’t want to sound like he’s not grateful, because he sure as hell is. But he’s shook up from being jumped. He’s been in a few rumbles, but not in that many fights on his own. And he kind of trusts Francis because of Phil, but at the same time, he hardly knows Francis. It’s been years since Phil let Danny tag along with them.
“Lover’s lane,” Francis says casually.
“What?” Danny splutters.
“I figure it’s the last place most guys will go looking for two guys.” Francis shrugs.
“That actually makes sense.”
Francis pulls his car into park under a tree overlooking a pretty view of the town. “You haven’t been parking here before?”
“I don’t have a car, so no.” Danny shrugs.
“Phil said you’d had girlfriends, though. Even when you went away to camp, he said you dated some knock-out girl who was practically a sosh,” Francis says, turning his radio on low to a rock station.
“I’ve dated girls.” Danny thinks he’s dated quite a bit. Girls seem to like him, even though he doesn’t have a car or much money.
But Francis is probably way more experienced. Danny could never help noticing how good looking Francis is, like a movie star. He’s a little wild, not afraid of danger or trouble. He’s been in juvie a few times and was always in trouble at school, but he’s smart enough to get into college and was kind enough to risk a beating to save Danny’s ass today.
“Have you made it with a girl yet? Phil didn’t know. Says you don’t talk to him about it. I won’t tell him anything you tell me. Nothing that happens in this car leaves it unless you want it to,” Francis says.
Danny has been asked before, by other guys, and usually he exaggerates, but something about Francis makes Danny think he’d see through any bullshit. He’s too savvy, so Danny decides to tell the truth. “I went all the way with the girl at camp, Mandy. She was cool. She wasn’t a virgin, so it wasn’t a big deal to her—at least she said it wasn’t and didn’t act like it was. Most girls, I try not to be a pushy asshole, so it doesn’t go that far.” Danny still remembers the taste of Mandy’s lips two years later. They’d always been sweet, like some kind of Chapstick. And he remembers how she felt against him, so soft. He’d liked her a lot, had thought maybe he was falling in love with her, but the feeling had faded once he didn’t see her every day.
Francis smiles. “I figured you wouldn’t still have your cherry. I could see when you were growing up that you were going to be a looker.”
“You thought about if I was a virgin or not?” Danny asks, and his skin feels like it’s prickling.
“Well, yeah. Seeing as I told your brother I wouldn’t mess with you when you were pure.” Francis leans back in his seat. He looks so relaxed, like a jungle cat: sleepy, but ready to pounce at any second.
Surely he can’t mean what it sounds like. Of course Danny has heard about guys who mess around with guys, but he’s never known any. Phil never mentioned that Francis played for the other team. Danny hasn’t heard any rumours about him. Francis and Phil used to go on double dates with girls, so maybe he just means he told Phil he wouldn’t set Danny up with girls while he was still an innocent.
“Have I freaked you out? Want me to drive you home? It’s probably safe now,” Francis says softly.
“I’m not freaked out. I’m confused,” Danny admits, but he doesn’t want to go home. He likes being in this car with Francis, and he’s not sure how to feel about that.
It’s not like he’s never had thoughts about men before, even Francis, but Danny always told himself it was because Francis was cool; Danny wanted to be like him, and to be liked by him. He’s always been impressed by Francis, but he’s tried not to think what that means because he’s afraid of what it might mean.
“Phil never told you I go both ways? I was sure he’d have told you. I guess he’s better at keeping his mouth shut than I thought.” Francis sounds pleased but surprised.
“You’re queer?” Danny asks, hesitating on saying the word, and it feels foreign on his tongue. He’s half afraid Francis will hit him for calling him that. Francis is bigger than him, bigger than Timmy and his friends. He’s tall and broad. He very much has a man’s body, not a teen’s. Danny can see the muscles in his chest through his black T-shirt, and he’s not huge, not like a guy in an army movie, but he’s strong, stronger than Danny.
“Yeah, I guess so. Does that bother you?”
“No,” Danny says quickly.
“Don’t be afraid, okay? I wouldn’t hurt you. Want a beer?” Fran
cis leans over and opens his glove box and catches two cans that roll out. He offers one to Danny.
Danny pops the can open and takes a quick drink. It’s not his first beer. He’s still not sure he likes the taste, but he likes how it makes him feel. “I’m not afraid. I figure you never did anything bad to me before I knew, so why would you do something now?” Danny hopes he’s right. Francis has never hurt him, despite being known as a fighter. He’s never picked on Danny. He’s never made Danny feel uncomfortable or anything, so Danny thinks that won’t change.
“You always were a smart kid. Sweet too. But you need to know you can’t go around telling people, okay? It’s the kind of thing that could get me killed. People are more relaxed at my college, but it’s still dangerous. You have to be sure the people you tell know how to keep a secret.”
“I’m not sweet, but I won’t tell anyone. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You are sweet, always made me want to taste you. The urge only got stronger as you got older, like ripe fruit,” Francis says in a low voice, and Danny feels a shiver go down his spine.
The rational voice in his head says he should freak out at the words and ask Francis to take him home, get out of the car as soon as possible. He shouldn’t be sitting here in the near dark, at lover’s lane, with a man he knows is queer. His dad would have a fit. It feels daring to stay, thrilling and forbidden, and part of Danny wants it, but he’s not sure he understands what he wants.
“And Phil knew you felt like that?” Danny asks hesitantly. Why has his brother never told him Francis is queer and maybe attracted to Danny? That seems like something his brother should have mentioned.
“I told him you were cute, that I was attracted to you. I didn’t tell him what I wanted to do to you specifically. He was cool with the way I am, but I doubt he’d be chill enough to listen to my dirty fantasies about his little brother.”
“What do you want to do to me?” Danny asks. He is terrified but also enjoying the heat of the fire he is playing with.
There’s a line in the sand that he’s close to crossing, and if he crosses it, it’ll be the kind of thing he can’t just come back from. Everything will change. He’s not sure he’s ready for that, but a part of him really wants to cross the line anyway. He wants to be close to Francis; he liked hearing that Francis wants him.
“Do you really want to know? I think I’d shock you. I’m not some high-school girl who wants to hold your hand and go to the movies.” Francis smirks.
“I’m not some innocent. I’ve had sex. You can’t shock me,” Danny says, indignantly.
Francis shifts, leans forward until he’s just barely in Danny’s space, and his voice is low and rough as he says, “Fine. I want to open you up and fuck you bare on my back seat. I want to make you drive home still feeling me, still wet.”
Danny swallows hard and flushes hot all over. His stomach clenches and his ass tightens. He’s definitely shocked.
But he’s also curious. How would it feel? He’s lost trying to imagine it when Francis’s hand landing on his knee jolts him out of it.
“Interesting, I half thought you’d punch me right in the mouth. How’s yours feeling, by the way? Looks a little bruised.” Francis’s tone is hard to read, and Danny looks in the rear view mirror. He can see the shadow of a bruise on the left side of his mouth and cheek. It’s a little sore when he talks, but not that bad.
“My ribs are worse. And I wouldn’t hit you even if I were mad. I’m not stupid. You’d kill me in a fight.” Danny shakes his head.
“You hurt your ribs?” Francis asks.
“I got kicked pretty good.”
“Let me look. No funny business, I swear,” Francis says, turning more toward Danny and reaching toward him.
Danny takes a breath and lifts his T-shirt up, baring his side. Francis gently runs his fingers over the red marks and the bruises already forming. “Does this hurt?” Francis presses down lightly.
“A little.” Danny isn’t trying to be brave. It does hurt, but it’s not awful. He can handle it. He’s been hurt worse.
“Can you breathe okay?” Francis asks, hardly even touching Danny, certainly not taking advantage.
Danny nods.
“I don’t think anything’s broken, but you might want to strap up your ribs.”
Danny takes another drink of his beer before putting it between his legs. Francis takes his hand back, and Danny drops his shirt back down so he’s covered again.
“I’ll be okay, thanks to you. They would have hurt me badly if you hadn’t come along.”
“What are you going to do about it? You can’t hide forever,” Francis says, like he hadn’t just a few minutes before been talking about screwing Danny.
“I don’t know. Try and get Timmy on his own, face him one-on-one. I might still get hurt, but it won’t be as bad. I’m not a coward; I don’t run from fair fights, but that wasn’t fair.” Danny sighs. “Thank you again for today.” Danny smiles.
“You still glad you got in my car, even after what I’ve said? Some guys would rather get a beat down than share a car with a faggot.” Francis watches Danny carefully, his blue eyes gleaming in the dim fluorescent light of the car.
“I can’t say nothing has changed, but I’m not one of those guys. I don’t hate queer people. I’m not scared of you,” Danny replies.
“I think you’re frightened, though, of what you’re feeling,” Francis says in a low voice.
“What do you think I’m feeling?” Danny asks, his stomach fluttering in a way he’s never experienced before. He’s never been so unsure in his life.
“I think you’re curious. You wonder what it’d be like if I kissed you, right here in my car. No one would know, not here. It’d be between me and you. I wouldn’t even tell Phil if you didn’t want me to.” His eyes are gleaming.
“What if you kiss me, and I don’t like it?” Danny can’t believe his own words. He should be saying no. He’s got enough trouble to deal with, what with Timmy and his friends looking to beat him down. Taking a walk on the wild side with a guy is just begging for worse than trouble. If the guys in his neighbourhood or school found out, he’ll be lucky to survive the beating.
Danny doesn’t do things lightly. He always likes to know the consequences.
But he’s got a wildfire side, too, that just doesn’t give a damn about the consequences.
“Then nothing else happens. I take you home, and we act like nothing has changed, because it won’t change anything. We’ll be friends, I guess. So you going to let me kiss you?” He’s watching Danny’s face again, his blue eyes more serious than Danny can remember ever seeing them. He doesn’t look afraid, but he doesn’t look entirely like his normally collected self either.
“Okay,” Danny says softly.
“Okay as in you want me to kiss you? Or you want me to take you home?” Francis asks.
“I want you to kiss me. Just, I figure if I’m going to try it, you’re pretty good looking for a dude. And you won’t tell anyone, and I don’t think you’ll hurt me. Fuck, I’m rambling. I just think now’s the time, and you’re the person for this,” Danny says in a rush, and then he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. He’d take a drink of his beer to settle his nerves, but he doesn’t want it to be obvious that he feels so scared despite his excitement.
“Just relax. I’ll be gentle,” Francis purrs, and he reaches out, cupping Danny’s jaw.
“I’m not a girl or a virgin.” Danny knows plenty of tough girls, ones who would fight people twice their size, but he’s still been taught to be gentle with them.
“I’m very aware you’re not a girl,” Francis says, dropping his gaze down to Danny’s lap, to the slight lump in his jeans.
Danny goes to say something. He’s not sure what, but just as his lips part, the sound is stolen from them by Francis’s kiss. His hand on Danny’s face is gentle, but there’s nothing timid about the kiss, and Danny has never been kissed so passionately.
But it’s Francis who ends the kiss. He draws back slowly, studies Danny’s face. It’s like he’s looking for something. Danny isn’t sure if he’s finding it or not.
“Seems like you liked it,” Francis says, voice a little rough, and Danny follows his gaze back to Danny’s lap. His hard cock is plenty visible even through stiff jeans.
“It was okay,” Danny says, trying to act like he’s not affected, but he is. He can feel his fingers trembling and his lips buzzing. His heart’s racing. He’s never felt this flustered after making out with a girl before.
“Bullshit, you loved it,” Francis says confidently.
“Cocky.” Danny shakes his head.
“Can you honestly say you don’t want me to kiss you again?” Francis asks, and he puts his hand on Danny’s leg, just above his knee.
“I guess I wouldn’t mind,” Danny says shyly, his face hot.
“You make it sound like kissing me was a chore.”
Danny wants to play it cool because Francis is experienced. Danny doesn’t want to seem like an eager kid, but he doesn’t want Francis to think he’s not interested. But then the chub in his pants probably gives away that he’s not unaffected.
“I liked kissing you. It was different, but in a real good way. And I wouldn’t, like, hate it if you wanted to do it some more,” Danny says, staring at his own hands.
Francis touches two fingers to Danny’s jaw and uses firm pressure to get Danny to look up and at him. Danny half-expected Francis to look smug that he was right about Danny wanting him, but he looks pleased.
“Babe. I’d kiss you anytime. Question is, how far do you want this to go?” Francis says it casually, like it’s no big deal, and maybe it isn’t to him. Maybe he sleeps with gay virgins all the time.