Vin heaved his duffel bag, which seemed heavier by the mile, onto the bench before plopping himself down. It was blistering-hot out and Vin had walked as far as he could, from the gas station about ten miles back to this greasy-spoon diner not far from the Arizona-New Mexico boarder.Shit, he thought to himself. There wasn't much time left and there was still a good seven hundred miles left to go. He didn't think he was going to make it; couldn't figure out how. Digging into his pocket, Vin pulled out the last of his cash. He'd been checking the coin returns of pay phones and soda machines for the last two states and had added a few quarters, dimes, nickels to the huge pot: he had about five bucks total.
His stomach growled painfully and he wondered if he should spend the money on something to eat. He wasn't sure he could do anything else with it. It wasn't enough to buy him a bus ticket to anywhere. And it sure the hell wasn't going to help him get to Texas in time.
He wondered what would happen to him if he showed up late for boot camp. Would he be considered a deserter? He wondered if the military still hung people for that. He swallowed involuntarily at the thought of being strung up like a mangy dog. There had to be better ways to go. At the moment, sunstroke or dehydration looked to be his most likely end.
Vin stood and heaved his duffel onto his back and made his way into the small diner. It was too much to hope that the place might be air-conditioned, but he sure didn't think it would be hotter inside than out. He looked about for a moment — there was only one other customer in the place and he looked more like a truck driver than a local. Vin took a seat at the far end of the counter.
Five bucks. He wondered what he should buy. His stomach growled again just as the waitress walked up to him. She looked sweaty and tired; Vin couldn't blame her.
"Don't suppose you got ice cream," he asked. She answered by handing him a menu and then turning away without a word, but a moment later she turned back and left a glass of water in front of him. He picked it up and drained it. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either; still, it tasted terrible and Vin knew why. Cow shit. Out here there were some big cattle ranches and cattle ranches meant cow shit. It got into the soil and into the ground water. Still, it wasn't anything worse than he'd ever had growing up; it wasn't anything he'd ever gotten used to either.
"So, what'll ya have?" the waitress asked. Vin saw the price of the milk shakes and the ice cream sundaes and thought he ought not to spend that much money. He had to make that five bucks last until he reached Fort Sam Houston. Coffee, he could afford, and a bowl of soup or some toast. But those things were hot and that wasn't what Vin wanted right now, even as hungry as he was.
"Can I have a Coke?"
The waitress looked annoyed as she left, but Vin didn't understand why. Did he look like some big spender who was gonna order a steak dinner and leave a big tip? He didn't think so.
When the waitress brought the pop, Vin was relieved to see ice floating in it. He dug his spoon in immediately and fished out a cube that he then shoveled into his mouth. The ice was so cold on his tongue that it almost hurt, but the cool liquid that slid down the back of his throat felt like heaven.
Vin took a long pull of Coke through the straw, and waited until the waitress had turned away before he grabbed a packet of crackers from the plastic basket on the counter. It wasn't much of a meal, but it would have to do.
He was reaching for a second packet when he heard a door open at the far end of the diner. Laugher suddenly filled the room, but no one seemed to notice except Vin. The two guys who stepped out of the men's room looked as out of place in the diner as Vin felt. They wore t-shirts, shorts, and sandals. Their skin was tanned a deep brown and their hair looked unnaturally light by comparison. One had thick hair that could still be considered brown; he had an oval face with deep blue eyes and what looked to be the start of a mustache. Very Magnum P.I., Vin thought. The other had straight hair the color of sand and light eyes that could have been green or gray as easily as they could have been blue for all Vin could tell from this distance.
What the hell were a pair of surfers doing out in the middle of the desert, Vin wondered?
The two guys slid into a booth nearby, and though Vin turned back to his Coke, he was still close enough to hear them talking.
"Dude, I'm so gonna miss those waves!" one said.
"I know, man! Wish I was going to Pepperdine," the other said.
To Vin's ears they both sounded Texan, but that sure didn't fit with their look or their conversation. He wondered what Pepperdine was and why the one guy wanted to go there.
He wondered where these guys were heading. Back to Texas Vin hoped as he swiveled around on the bar stool to face them. "Hi," he said and immediately felt stupid.
The two guys looked at him with grins on their lips and frowns on their brows. At least they hadn't both turned away and ignored him.
"I ... uh ... you from Texas?" Vin managed to ask.
"Dude, do we look like we're from Texas?" the Magnum-wannabe asked.
Vin shook his head. "No, but you kinda sound like it."
"Damn," the blonde said. "We're gonna have to work on that, man. Can't be sounding like a pair of hicks at Yale, not if we don't want the crap kicked out of us."
The waitress came over to the two guys then, blocking Vin's view of them. "Tuna salad, hold the mayo," one said. "Turkey on wheat, mustard, extra tomato," the other said. "And can you pack 'em to go?"
When the waitress left, the two guys seemed surprised to see Vin staring at them again.
"Vin Tanner." He held out his hand.
"Steve Travis," the blond replied, reaching out and shaking Vin's offered hand.
The other guy jutted his chin out in a too-cool sort of nod. "Whitman. Gerard Whitman." He said it like James Bond would say it and Vin almost laughed at how stupid it sounded in real life.
"Call him Gerry," Steve said.
Vin cleared his throat, then asked, "I was just wondering ... you headed to Texas ... or away from it?"
"To," Steve answered. "We're heading back from a summer of sun, sand, and surfing in San Diego."
"And chicks, don't forget the chicks," Gerry added with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
"And the beer."
"And the weed—" Gerry coughed, before continuing, "The seaweed, dude, oh yeah! It's killer out there."
Vin had never seen seaweed before, except on television. Still, he wasn't dumb enough to believe that was what was being talked about. He smiled awkwardly and nodded.
"So, back to Texas now, huh?"
"Yeah. Total bummer, though college should be pretty cool," Gerry said.
Vin wondered why they were keeping up with the phony-sounding surfer talk if they were heading home.
"Where're you headed?" Steve finally asked and Vin almost sighed in relief.
"Texas."
"Oh, yeah. Us, too," Gerry said, and then paused before laughing.
"Where about?" Steve asked. At least one of them wasn't high, Vin thought.
"San Antone."
"We're heading right through there..." Steve suddenly seemed to catch on; Gerry was making a little snake out of the paper covering from his straw.
Vin hated asking. He hated having fucked everything up, but he had to get to Fort Sam Houston by Monday. But if these guys said no ... that left the truckers and, well, the way his luck was going.... The last one — a huge bull of a man who had to have been at least sixty — had wanted to fuck Vin in exchange for the ride. The one before that had gone on about all the hippies and queers and commies and how they all needed a sound thrashing; almost unconsciously, the man had patted his baseball bat, which never seemed to leave his side. Vin couldn't even imagine what the next trucker might be like.
"Could I ... tag along?" Vin asked.
"Can you chip in for gas?" Gerry asked.
"Duh, you idiot. Don't you think he'd be on a bus if he had any money?" Steve said, and then looked a bit embarrassed that he'd said it so loud. "Wait here, man. I'm gonna get our food." Steve slid out of the booth and headed for the cash register near the center of the counter.
Vin felt like he ought to say something to Gerry the stoner-slash-surfer-slash-whatever, but he wasn't sure what. "Uh ... you like San Diego?"
"It was bitchin', dude. Totally bitchin'."
Vin nodded again, then glanced over at Steve. Steve caught him looking and nodded; Vin looked away. Vin wondered what was taking Steve so long. "Um...." He reached back and grabbed his Coke, then realized that he still had to pay for it, too, so he got up and went to the register.
"Hi," he said to Steve.
"Hi." Steve looked a bit nervous, but Vin couldn't figure out why. "I'm almost done. If you and Gerry wanna head out to the car...."
"I gotta pay for my Coke," Vin said, and Steve nodded again.
The waitress finally handed Steve a few white paper bags, then she rang up Vin. He thought about pocketing the change, but then he saw Steve and Gerry heading toward the door and realized that it wouldn't make any difference, so he dropped the few coins in the tip jar and followed them out.
The car they headed for was coated in a thick layer of brown dust. Vin hadn't even paid attention to it before, but now he realized it was a BMW, though he still couldn't tell what color it was under the dirt.
"Shotgun," Gerry said and then climbed into the front seat.
Steve called over the roof of the car at Vin, "Back okay for you?"
Vin nodded and got in. He didn't care as long as he wasn't walking.
The car was stifling hot and everyone rolled down the windows, though it didn't help. Steve turned the engine over, and music immediately blasted out of the back speakers, nearly deafening Vin, but Steve quickly adjusted the volume and then the balance before fiddling with some other knobs and levers on the dash.
Moments later, Vin felt the oddest thing: a cool breeze. He leaned forward and realized the car had air conditioning. He nearly let out a shout of joy. He couldn't believe this amazing turn of luck. Steve pressed a button on the central console and all four windows rolled up in unison. Soon the air inside the car was almost cold. Vin felt like taking off his shirt. Gerry did.
Steve buckled himself in and Vin followed his lead. Gerry played with the direction of air vents. Then they were on the highway, heading east. Vin settled back, relaxing for the first time in too long. It seemed like a miraculous end to this whole ordeal.
"So, are you going to school or something in San Antonio?" Steve asked, glancing at Vin in the rearview mirror.
"Army."
"Fodder," Gerry said. "That's what you're gonna be, dude. Political fodder."
Vin didn't know what fodder meant, but it didn't sound good. "What about you guys?"
"We start at Yale in a couple of weeks," Steve said; Gerry stared out the window. "My dad wants me to study law, thinks I oughta go into politics—"
"But the system's corrupt. And you can't fix it from the inside," Gerry said, still staring south toward Mexico.
"Damn straight," Steve said. "Only way to fix things is from outside. Dear ol' Dad doesn't know it yet, but you're looking at the next Woodward."
"And Bernstein," Gerry added, pointing at his own chest.
Vin didn't know who those two were. They sounded like lawyers, but knew they couldn't be after what Steve had just said.
"Watergate was only the tip of the iceberg." Vin had heard of Watergate, but he still wondered who Woodward and Bernstein were. "Corruption runs deep, Vin," Steve said.
"Deep as the Marianas trench," Gerry added.
Vin felt out of his league with these guys. No wonder they were going to college and he was going to be fodder. It reminded him of Aaron.
He fell silent as Steve and Gerry kept on about things he didn't care about or didn't understand. Vin thought about Aaron and how awkward things had been when he'd dropped him off at Stanford. Aaron hadn't even wanted Vin to help him with his luggage, though he had too many bags to manage all on his own. When they reached Aaron's dorm room, his roommate was already there. Aaron introduced Vin as his "friend" and Vin got the feeling Aaron wasn't going to be telling anyone that he was gay, at least not anytime soon. Not that Vin blamed Aaron, not after what they'd been through, first in high school and then over the summer. It wasn't like Vin was going to be telling anyone, at least not until he got out of the army.
But it wasn't just that. Things had been weird between them the whole trip. Aaron kept asking about David, thought they should call the hospital and check on him. Vin just wanted to keep driving and forget everything they were leaving behind. David was a bastard who deserved what he'd gotten; it hadn't been Vin's fault, or Aaron's, and they sure as hell didn't owe David anything, not even a phone call. Vin wished the whole thing had never happened, wished they'd never spent the summer with David. It had ruined everything between him and Aaron.
Still, it felt odd that he hadn't kissed Aaron goodbye. Even the final wave seemed forced. Aaron had been his best friend — his only friend for the last few months — and now he'd never see him again, which made him sad. Then Vin realized that he wasn't sure he ever wanted to see Aaron again and that made him even sadder.
Vin had gotten as far as San Bernardino with the car he and Aaron had "borrowed" from David; the damn thing threw a valve, which tore up the inside of one of the cylinders, and that was that. Vin didn't have near enough money to fix a flat tire let alone replace an engine. The guy at the repair shop took the car off his hands — gave him a rotten deal on the thing, too, but Vin couldn't argue since he didn't even have the pink slip. At least the mechanic had given him a ride to the bus station. His ticket got him to Tucson and he'd been hitching every since.
"Dude? Dude!" Gerry said. It wasn't really a shout, but it was enough to finally get Vin's attention.
Vin stared at the bag being held in front of his face. It was one of the bags Steve had brought from the diner.
"Here."
Vin didn't know what else to do, so he took the bag. "What is it?"
"Sandwich," Steve said, looking at him in the rearview mirror. "Waitress messed up the order and gave us an extra one. You might as well eat it."
"Okay. Thanks," Vin said, as he opened the bag. Inside were a square of white butcher paper and a bag of barbeque-flavor potato chips. Vin didn't think the waitress had messed up at all, but he wondered why Steve was lying about it.
"Dude, pass me a root beer," Gerry asked, reaching between the two front seats again. Vin hadn't noticed before, but there was a cooler in the well behind the driver's seat. He opened the lid and found a mound of only partially melted ice, along with at least a dozen cans of various flavors of soda pop, and a small blue Tupperware container. He grabbed the pop Gerry asked for and passed it up before closing the lid.
"You want something, Steve?" Gerry asked.
"Yeah, gimme a ... a Mountain Dew. Take one, too, Vin. There should be more than enough in there to last 'til we get home."
Vin handed the Mountain Dew forward and then took a Seven-Up for himself. He was suddenly uncomfortable, not because these guys were so much smarter (and, obviously richer) than he was or ever would be, but because they were being so nice to him. He began to wonder when things would start to go bad for him again.
But the miles rolled away, and eventually Vin settled down again. Whatever did happen he'd just deal with it when the time came, he decided.
After a while, Vin's gaze out the side window drifted forward and then up to the rearview mirror. He could see only part of Steve's face reflected. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, like the kind the helicopter pilots wore on M*A*S*H, though he didn't look like any of those guys. He wasn't G.I. enough — probably couldn't be if he tried. Vin wondered what Steve thought about the army, about him going into the army. He wondered if Steve, like Gerry, though he was gonna be fodder. Vin wondered if Steve thought he was throwing his life away, though Vin didn't see any other option; he'd lived on the streets before and he had no desire to go back. He wondered if Steve understood that, if he thought badly of him because of it. Then he wondered why he cared what Steve thought; he certainly didn't care what Gerry thought.
When the sky darkened in front of them and the glare of the setting sun behind them faded, Steve pulled off his glasses. He caught Vin staring at him in the rearview mirror. Vin was embarrassed, but Steve just gave him a small smile and a nod like everything was cool. Vin slouched in his seat and contented himself with staring at the back of Steve's head, the blond hair burnished by the last rays of the sunset.
"Hey, look," Gerry said. "El Paso." The green road sign that appeared in their headlights gave the distance as another 138 miles.
It was dark now, and Vin wondered if they were just going to keep driving, or ... he didn't know what. Stop and get a motel room? There was no way he could afford that, and he didn't know what he'd do if they did stop ... he sure didn't want to risk these guys driving off without him, but he doubted they'd just let him sleep in the car with all their stuff.
"I figure we'll hit San Antonio sometime tomorrow afternoon," Steve announced when the radio faded into static again.
"Not if we keep driving, dude," Gerry said.
"We? I'm the only one driving here, man. You wanna drive, you're gonna have to sleep off that monster buzz of yours."
"I, uh, I could drive for a while," Vin offered, leaning over a bit so he could see Steve's face reflected in the rearview mirror again. He'd never driven a Beamer before or a car with automatic transmission, but it was still a car. He just didn't know if Steve would trust him.
"Thanks, Vin. I might take you up on that later. We're still not getting to San Antone until tomorrow, though."
Vin nodded and settled back again, but Gerry quickly interrupted his silence. "Hey, dude, grab that container outta the cooler."
Vin reached in and groped around ... he remember the container, but there was no light inside the car now to help him find it again. He finally wrapped his fingers around it though, pulled it out, and handed it to Gerry.
Gerry opened it and Vin suddenly smelled chocolate.
"You want one, Vin?" Gerry offered.
Vin couldn't see him too clearly, but knew the guy was smirking. He wondered what was up and so he hesitated.
"Leave him alone, Gerr. They're special brownies, Vin, just so you know."
"Special?"
"Secret ingredient," Gerry elaborated.
"Pot," Steve said.
"Dude! Now it's not a secret anymore!" Gerry complained.
"No thanks," Vin finally said. He didn't know if the army drug tested their new recruits, and he sure wasn't going to mess this up before he even reported for boot camp! If the army turned him away, if this didn't work out, he didn't know what he'd do. Sweep floors at the hardware store, maybe?
Vin stared at Steve's profile for a while, barely visible against the glow of the dashboard lights. He bet the guy never had thoughts like this, never wondered what would happen if college didn't work out. Because stuff worked out for guys like Steve, and even for guys like Gerry. Because when stuff didn't work out, someone would just hand them another chance, another shot, another wad of cash. They'd surf the Pacific or hike around Europe until they figured out what they would do next, secure in the knowledge that they'd have a home to come back to and a family who'd support them.
Everything always worked out for guys like Steve and Gerry. Nice car, nice house, nice job, pretty wife, happy kids, romping dogs.... Vin couldn't even imagine what it would be like to have Steven Travis's charmed life.
When they hit El Paso, Steve pulled the car into the drive-thru of a Carl's Jr. When the talk-box squawked at them, Steve asked Gerry what he wanted.
"Cheeseburger." He leaned over, shouting across the distance to the talk-box. "Large fries. Chocolate shake. Large fries. Oh, and cheesecake. You got cheesecake?"
"Geez, Gerr," Steve said, pushing Gerry back to his side of the car.
"One cheeseburger, two large fries, one chocolate shake, one strawberry cheesecake," the distorted voice repeated. "Anything else?"
"Vin?" Steve asked.
"Uh, no, I'm cool. Thanks."
Steve leaned out the window to finish the order, and Vin heard him say, "Make that a total of three cheeseburgers ... three large fries ... two chocolate shakes ... one vanilla shake ... and one strawberry cheesecake."
The voice from the talk-box repeated the order and then asked, "Anything else?"
"No."
"$18.73. Pull up to the first window."
"Steve..." Vin began to protest as the car rolled forward. His stomach suddenly felt sour. "I, uh, I can't pay for the food."
"Don't worry about it, man," Steve said. "You can pay me back by driving later. And don't think I'll forget because I won't."
Vin didn't know what to say. He couldn't believe this guy. Beamer, buying not just one meal for him, but two.... Something was going to go wrong here; Vin could feel it in his gut. And he knew he'd be paying for it, somehow, some way. Nothing ever went this right for him, not for long.
After the burger place, Steve got them back on the highway and it wasn't long before the lights of El Paso were far behind them. They drove for a while. Gerry and Vin both ate, while Steve sipped at his milkshake and grabbed the occasional fry as he drove.
Then they slowed and pulled off the highway. They drove for a while on a road that soon turned to dirt, and eventually Steve even steered them away from this. They drove slowly through a scattering of trees before Steve pulled the car to a stop.
"Welcome to Hotel Travis, boys," Steve announced and then got out of the car.
Vin got out as well and was surprised by the pleasantness of the temperature. It was a bit warmer than the inside of the air-conditioned car, but it wasn't anywhere near hot like when Vin had been walked, and there was a soft breeze rustling through the trees overhead.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"Middle of nowhere. Or close to it," Steve replied. "Thought we'd spend the night here and then head out again in the morning. Doubt anyone'll mind."
"Doubt anyone'll even find us way out here," Gerry said as he joined them. The flame from a lighter suddenly illuminated his face. Something in his other hand glowed orange, and then a large puff of smoke filled the air and Vin knew by the smell what Gerry was smoking.
Steve reached over, taking the blunt from Gerry, and then took a hit before passing it to Vin.
"No thanks."
"Come on, dude. You'll take a burger from us but not a toke?" Gerry asked.
"I, uh ... it's just not my thing."
"You worried we're gonna get caught?" Steve asked.
Vin shook his head. They were miles from the highway, hundreds of yards from any stretch of land that even resembled a road. They wouldn't be caught, he was sure.
"I think they might do drug-testing when I report for boot camp," Vin finally said. He felt stupid saying it to these guys, especially when Gerry piped up and said, "Damn government. The least they can do is let you have one last bit of fun before they send you off to die for them. Fodder, Vin. Damn."
Steve took another quick hit before passing the joint back to Gerry, and then he finally started in on his cheeseburger.
Vin wasn't sure what to do, but the two guys had mostly fallen silent, and so he wandered off after a while.
He found a tree, not too far away and sat down against it. He felt out of place, but then he always felt out of place. He wondered if he'd feel like that in the army, too.
Fodder. That's what Gerry had said. Is that what he really was, was that his great purpose in life? He wondered how things would be in the army, how hard they'd make him work, if he'd find anything he liked doing, or anyone to hang out with.
"Here," Steve said, and the voice startled Vin. He felt a cold bottle against the back of his hand as Steve sat down beside him. "Found it in the bottom of the ice chest. I think it's the last beer. Army can't get on your case for having a beer, can they?"
Vin smiled, but knew Steve couldn't see it in the darkness. "Thanks. But, I don't wanna take your last one."
"Naw, it's fine. Gerry'll only wanna drink it and he's so high he's practically passed out already."
"What about you?" Vin asked. He really didn't want to take their last beer.
"I'm pretty high myself right now," he laughed, but apparently knew that that hadn't been what Vin was asking. "The beer's all yours."
"Thanks. I ... I don't get it, though."
"What?"
"Why you're being so nice to me."
"Why not?"
"Because people aren't. Not usually. Not this much," Vin said. Oh, he knew there were kind, charitable people in the world, but he also knew they had individual limits. Spread it around, help a lotta people just a little, seemed to be the standard practice, especially when it came to strangers.
"Well, I am. When I can be. Just, uh ... just don't do anything to make me regret it, okay?"
"Like what?"
"Like stealing my car, or shooting us in our sleep."
Vin nodded. He knew they didn't trust him. And why should they? He was a total stranger to them. He couldn't blame Steve for thinking that Vin might do something like that. He was sure others might, and he knew Steve had taken a risk picking him up like he did.
But then Steve laughed. It wasn't loud, but it was enough to surprise Vin. "I don't really think you'd do any of those things," Steve said.
"I wouldn't," Vin told him.
"I know."
"How?"
Vin felt the shrugging of Steve's shoulder, which was just barely touching his own. "I just know, Vin. I've got a good sense about people, and I reckon that deep down we're not all that different."
"What'd you mean?"
"Look, you're going in the army, right? That means no matter what Gerry says, no matter what the political agenda might be, you're still going to be in a position to help people. And if you're willing to walk down that road, well ... then, I'm glad to know you."
"Thanks."
"Sure."
"No, I mean it, Steve. I really appreciate it. I don't think I'd have made it to Texas, much less San Antone, if it wasn't for you."
"Really, it's no problem. I told you, we're heading that way anyway, and I'm glad to help. So, are you gonna drink that?"
Vin handed Steve the beer and the guy took a slow pull before handing it back. "Man, that tastes good. Pot does that to you: makes everything taste good."
"Everything?" Vin asked. He'd never tried the stuff, so didn't know. He wondered how something that smelled that bad could make other stuff taste good.
"Everything I've tried," Steve said, then he let out a little groan and Vin felt him shift position. "Makes you horny, too," he added with a little laugh that didn't sound at all like embarrassment. "Actually, would you mind if I just twist one off real quick?"
Vin swallowed uncomfortably. "Um, yeah. Whatever," he finally managed. Then he wondered if he ought to give Steve a little privacy. "You want me to leave?"
"Naw, it's cool. I don't care. Not like you're gay or anything, right?"
Vin stopped breathing. He didn't know what to say or what to do, so he just sat there.
"Oh, shit, man. You are, aren't you?"
Vin swallowed again, even though his mouth and throat felt suddenly dry. Here it was: everything going to hell in a hand basket. He knew it couldn't last. He wondered if Steve would just leave him here, just grab Gerry, drive off and leave him.
"Are you?" Steve asked again. His voice was quiet, but there was a tone that made the question sound like a demand.
Vin tried to say something, but he only managed a small nervous sound low in his throat. He wondered if Steve and Gerry were the type who might beat him up, or worse.
"It's okay, if you are," Steve finally said. "Look, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business."
They both sat in silence for a few minutes. Vin wondered if Steve still had his hand down his shorts. He didn't hear anything, but that didn't mean Steve still wasn't just holding himself. Vin didn't think he should be wondering about what Steve was doing with his dick, not just now anyway, but he couldn't help it. And he couldn't help it when he felt his own dick stir to life.
"But you're going in the army. How are you gonna manage that, man?"
"Don't ask, don't tell," Vin said. "That's the policy these days."
"But ... how you gonna go all that time without ... you know? Doin' it?"
Vin nearly laughed, and he was suddenly thankful that Gerry had given Steve that marijuana cigarette earlier. He wondered if Gerry had shared his brownies as well.
"I'll manage," Vin finally said. "It's not that hard, really."
"Damn, cuz mine's as hard as a lead pipe." Steve laughed at his own stupid joke and the sound had a bit of a relaxing effect on Vin. "Just kidding, man. I mean, it is, but ... you know." He laughed awkwardly, but then he suddenly asked, "So, what's it like being gay?"
Vin shrugged. "I don't know. What's it like being straight?"
Steve laughed again and gently slapped Vin on the thigh. "Sorry. Some investigative reporter I'm gonna be asking stupid questions like that." Vin noticed that Steve hadn't removed his hand, and Vin didn't know what to do about it, so he took a pull from his beer.
"So, you ever ... you know...?" But Vin didn't know quite what Steve was asking. "There was this girl out in San Diego," he went on. "She let me ... you know ... from behind." Steve was quiet then and Vin wondered if he should say something, if that was what Steve was waiting for. But a few moments later, he started up again. "It was ... good. Definitely tighter. Hotter, too. She didn't seem like she got off on it much, but ... I thought it was good. What about you ... have you ever...?"
"Not to a girl."
"No, I mean ... you ever let anyone do that to you?" Steve asked.
Vin's heart began to thud heavily against his chest. "Yeah," he finally said.
"What's it like? Does it hurt much?"
"Didn't you ask that girl?"
"Naw. Probably should have, but.... So, does it?"
"It can," Vin said, and fought back the memories of both Aaron and David. "At first. But then...."
"Then what?" Steve asked.
"Then, you know, you get into it and ... and then it's fine."
"Fine?" Steve asked. "Just ... fine?"
"Yeah. I mean, no. I mean ... it can feel great ... if you do it right," Vin struggled. He was embarrassed and uncomfortable. He didn't know why Steve was asking him this stuff or what he really wanted to know. "Why you so curious?"
"Just am," Steve said. "Just wondered ... what it would feel like...."
Vin wasn't sure he should, but something in Steve's tone made him offer, "You wanna try it...." Though he wasn't sure if Steve was really serious.
"Yeah."
"Here?"
Vin wasn't sure if this was really a good idea, but he was also grateful for everything Steve had done for him. Even if he left him here in the morning, Vin was still a hell of a lot closer to Fort Sam Houston than he had been yesterday. He owed Steve.
But before Vin could do anything, stay or get up and walk away, Steve leaned over and kissed him. It was an awkward kiss, just lips pressed hastily against lips, bruising them against teeth. Steve pulled back, but not far.
Vin's dick throbbed in his pants. He'd been hard for a while now.... And he did like Steve....
He leaned forward and Steve met him halfway. The kiss this time was better: softer, easier.... He allowed his lips to part slightly and Steve slipped his tongue inside and caressed Vin's mouth.
Vin wondered what Steve was thinking. Was he comparing this to that girl out in San Diego? Had they even kissed before he'd butt-fucked her? Probably. Vin didn't think girls just did that sort of thing, not like guys did. He wondered if she'd been drunk, if that's why she'd let him to it.
Then he felt Steve's hand on his crotch, fumbling against his erection. Vin wondered if Steve was going to regret this once the pot-buzz wore off. Vin moved Steve's hand aside and began undoing his zipper anyway. Then he felt Steve's hand slip inside his fly, slowly, hesitantly at first, but then the rubbing began again.
Steve broke the kiss and he was breathing hard when he said, "Touch mine."
Vin hesitated only long enough to wonder if Steve was this awkward when he was with a girl. Vin reached out and slid his hand between Steve's legs, cupping his balls through the thin fabric of his shorts. Then he slowly slid his hand up Steve's hard length and felt him shudder.
Steve was pulling his shorts and underwear off a moment later. They pooled around his knees, where he kneeled in the grass, but Vin knew the shorts would have to come all the way off if they were going to do this. They also needed something — something more than spit — if Steve didn't want this to hurt.
"You got lube or anything?"
"Lube?" Steve asked, like he didn't know what the word meant. "Lubricant? What'd you need that for?"
"You," Vin said, and then wondered what that poor girl in San Diego had endured beneath Steve's inexperienced hands.
Steve fumbled with his shorts for a moment, then finally just stood and took them off. He rummaged through the pockets and finally held something out. Vin took the rectangular packet; it wasn't a condom.
"It's sunscreen," Steve finally said.
"I don't know if that'll work."
"It's SPF 30," Steve replied, as if that mattered for this.
Vin shrugged. "We can try it."
Steve nodded, but just stood there, towering above Vin. His shorts were in his hand but he still wore his t-shirt. Vin thought he looked kind of funny, but he sure as hell wasn't going to laugh at him.
Vin climbed to his knees, bringing himself eye level with Steve's bare crotch. Without thinking, he leaned forward and took the hard dick into his mouth. Steve groaned, then Vin felt hands in his hair, not fondling or caressing, but just resting there, as if Steve needed help maintaining his balance. Vin pulled him in deep, all the way to the back of his throat, and then licked the length on the way out. His hand fondled Steve's balls for a few moments before he finally pulled away.
"You're gonna wanna be on your hands and knees for this," Vin said. "That okay?"
"Yeah, sure." There was a nervous quality to Steve voice, but he kneeled down anyway and then looked back over his shoulder at Vin.
As he repositioned himself, Vin wondered how scared Steve was right at this moment and he wondered how much the darkness and the pot-high was helping him through this. Vin placed his hand on Steve's cheeks and spread them, and then he plied his tongue to Steve's hole. He heard Steve gasp. He kept licking him, teasing the muscle.
"Didn't do that to that girl," Steve mumbled. Vin wasn't surprised. "Isn't it kinda gross?"
Vin thought it was the first few times, but now it didn't bother him. Not if the guy was clean, and Steve was. "Not really."
"Seems like it'd be kinda gross. I mean, doesn't it, considering, you know..." Steve said and Vin realized it was just nervous chatter, so he pushed his tongue deep, until Steve moaned.
Vin pulled away and pushed his pants down to his knees. He fiddled in the dark with the packet of sunscreen and finally squirted the lotion onto his fingertips before spreading it along the length of his dick. He applied it more thickly to the head, then took the rest and spread it around Steve hole. He pushed a finger inside, testing the waters, and sure enough, Steve tensed. Damn tight, Vin thought, and it was only one finger.
"You sure about this?" he asked.
"Yeah," Steve replied, though he was sounding even more nervous.
"Then you gotta relax. Think of something else. Think of ... I don't know, surfing or something." Vin began to ease his finger back and forth, but Steve wasn't relaxing. "What's it feel like," Vin asked, "bein' on a board, catchin' a wave?"
Vin heard Steve swallow and then gasp for a bit of air. "It's like nothing else, man. It's like ... nirvana."
Vin didn't know how surfing could be like a grunge band from Seattle, but he didn't want to interrupt Steve to ask.
"It's like you're just ... ah! Um ... one with the ocean. You can feel the ... water beneath the board, feel how it's breaking...." Vin could feel Steve starting to relax. "It's like nothing else exists except you and the sun and the surf...."
Vin pressed another finger inside and Steve just went with it, groaning slightly, but nothing more. This was good, Vin thought. This was going to be okay.
"Just waves, man.... Cool water, warm sun...."
Vin suddenly felt that this was the moment, that if he waited any longer, Steve was going to start getting nervous and tense again, so Vin pressed his dick against Steve's hole and shove it in.
Steve gasped, but Vin had hold of his hips, hindering the natural reaction to pull away. He tugged Steve against him as he pushed his dick all the way in.
"It's okay," Vin said softly. "Just go with it."
"God, that really hurts," Steve grunted through obviously clenched teeth.
"Not for long," Vin promised. Then he began to slowly move in and out of Steve, giving him time to get used to the new sensation. And soon he could hear Steve breathing again, just before he felt Steve adding to the thrusting rhythm he'd set. "Better now?" Vin asked.
"Yeah... it almost" — Steve groaned — "feels good."
"Spread your legs a bit more," Vin said and Steve did. Vin repositioned himself and began thrusting long and deep. Vin knew it would feel even better, soon. He reached around and, because Steve was lanky like himself, he had no problem grabbing hold of his dick. The shaft wasn't exactly hard anymore and Vin hadn't really expected it to be, but after a few seconds it began to swell inside his fist. There was still sunscreen residue on his fingers, so it was easy for Vin to stoke Steve back to full hardness. Steve began thrusting into his hand, which caused the muscles in his ass to clench rhythmically around Vin's dick: it was a sensation Vin liked.
"You okay?" Vin asked, and he felt more than saw Steve bob his head up and down. Vin ran his free hand up and down Steve's lean back. Vin closed his eyes and pictured Steve's face and imagined kissing him again. He wondered what it would be like to fuck on a surfboard in the middle of the ocean.
"I, uh ... I'm gonna come," Steve groaned.
Vin wasn't sure if Steve was telling him, or asking permission, so all he said was, "Then come."
A few thrusts later, Vin felt the warm jizz coat his fingers. He wondered what it would taste like. He knew now that not all come tasted the same.
As soon as Steve stopped thrusting into his fist, Vin brought both hands back to Steve's hips and concentrated on his own release. He knew being fucked could get uncomfortable after a while, especially after coming; muscles started to cramp, tissue started to become irritated, your anus could being to sting and burn. It wasn't pleasant, and Vin didn't want Steve to experience those things.
Vin grabbed tight to Steve's hips when his own orgasm came. He pushed deep into Steve, ramming in hard and fast — he couldn't help it, but only later did he hope that it hadn't been too much for Steve. Vin squinted his eyes shut as his whole body shivered with the release.
Then he pulled out and rolled onto the grass. Steve collapsed beside him an instant later. Vin pulled at his dick, milking out the last few droplets. He wondered if Steve would just drift off to sleep now, but he looked over and there was enough moonlight filtering down through the trees to see that Steve was looking at him.
"Hi," Steve said, and Vin thought his voice sounded husky.
"Hi," Vin said, smiling. That hadn't been too bad, he thought. He wasn't sure how it would be after ... after being with Aaron and David. Vin turned away from Steve's gaze, but a hand on his cheek brought them face-to-face again.
Steve kissed him, like he was a girl, like they ought to be cuddling now. Vin didn't mind. Steve let his arm rest across Vin's chest, and his fingertip traced patterns over his sweaty shoulder.
After a while, Vin asked, "So, you think you might ever wanna do it again?"
"With you?"
Vin laughed. "I'm not sure we'll get the chance, not unless you want Gerry to drive while we fool around in the backseat."
"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," Steve said.
"Why? He really that bad of a driver?"
"No. Cuz he ... he doesn't know that...."
"That you like guys?"
"I don't like guys," Steve retorted. "I mean.... I just have these thoughts sometimes ... and I wondered what it would be like...."
"And now you know."
"Yeah. Now I know." Steve sat up and felt around for his shorts; he slipped them back on as soon as he found them. Vin tugged his jeans up over his hips, but then he just stayed where he was, lying in the grass.
"So, was it okay?" Vin asked after a while.
"I can still feel you," Steve said quietly. "It's almost like you're still there ... inside me."
"That bother you?" Vin asked. It had been strange the first few times for him, though he had been far more careful not to hurt Steve. He just wondered if they now shared any of the same thoughts.
"No ... it's just ... weird, you know?"
"Yeah, I know." Vin reached up and took Steve's hand, hoping he wouldn't pull away and he didn't. He tugged Steve forward, but Steve had more leverage and ended up tugging Vin into a sitting position.
"You're not gonna tell Gerry about this, right?" Steve asked.
"No, of course not. You might wanna tell him, though."
"What? No way!"
"But he's your best friend, right?" Vin couldn't help thinking about Aaron; they'd been friends, at least for a while, and it had been nice to have someone who understood. "At least you'd have someone to talk to about it."
"Do you know what saying shit like that can do to a friendship? Bust it right up. Nope, you can't talk about this stuff with your buddies. And I gotta live with him for the next four years; we're roommates. So, yeah, no way. And don't go telling him what we just did."
A bit of nervous chatter again, Vin thought, but all he said was, "I won't. I swear."
"So, you really going into the army?" Steve asked, and Vin wasn't exactly surprised by the sudden change of subjects.
"Yeah. Don't have the grades" — or the money, he added silently — "to make it into college. Didn't really know what else to do."
"Be all you can be," Steve said, sounding a bit flippant, but then adding with a serious tone, "I hope it works out for you."
"Thanks."
"Come on. We better hit it. You're driving in the morning, remember? And I don't want you fallin' asleep behind the wheel."
Vin nodded, but before he could stand, Steve leaned forward and kissed him.
"What was that for?"
"Tomorrow. You don't think I'm gonna do that in front of Gerry when we drop you off, do you?"
"I s'pose not." They both stood up, but neither made a move toward the car. "Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For everything. I wish I could pay you back."
Steve leaned in again, pressing full against Vin. Vin could feel the warmth of Steve's body against his own; he could feel Steve's lips part as his tongue slid forward. Vin reached around and pulled Steve tight against him. A moment before he lost himself in the kiss, Vin wondered if he would ever see Steve again — if Steve would ever want to see him again; he wondered if he'd ever find someone who would want to keep seeing him, again and again, even after he fucked things up.
~ fade ~
February 2004Please do NOT repost this story anywhere outside of the Blackraptor Fiction Website.Thanks to my beta reader for all her helpful suggestions!Characters from "The Magnificent Seven" were used without permission and this story in no way signifies support of, or affiliation with, The Mirisch Group, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, CBS Worldwide, Inc., or their affiliates. The M7-ATF universe was created by Mog, and extra thanks go to her for allowing other people to play so liberally within it. The story itself and any non-Magnificent Seven characters belong to the author. This story will not be sold for any reason.