The Road Home (14 page)
“Fuck the Lake Monsters!” Burke said.
His father's hands tightened on the wheel, and Burke saw the muscles in his jaw clench.
Just like when I was a kid,
he thought. He knew his father had clamped down tight, both on his words and on his feelings.
He's pretending this isn't happening.
Just like when I was a kid,
he thought. He knew his father had clamped down tight, both on his words and on his feelings.
He's pretending this isn't happening.
Burke had a choice. He could keep prodding his father, or he could let it go. His entire life he'd avoided prodding. One of his earliest memories was of standing in the doorway of the kitchen watching his parents fight. It was late at night, and he'd come downstairs for a drink of water. His mother's raised voice stopped him at the door, where neither of his parents noticed him.
He was four, maybe five, not old enough to know what the fight was about but more than able to recognize the frustration in his mother's voice. As she stood by the sink, her hands on her hips, Burke's father sat at the table, his hands folded in front of him and his eyes looking down at the red Formica tabletop as if he were searching for meaning in the gold flecks that speckled the surface. “Talk to me!” Burke's mother said over and over. “Say
something!
”
something!
”
But he hadn't. Not a word. After several minutes Burke's mother began to wash the dishes in the sink. Burke's father, turning his head, stared silently at her back. Watching him, Burke found himself afraid. Something about his father's refusal to speak frightened him. It was as if he were storing up his anger, and Burke feared that at any moment it would explode, killing them all.
He'd turned and gone back to bed, his drink of water forgotten. And in the morning when he came down for breakfast his mother smiled as she set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him, and they both pretended that everything was all right. But Burke had never looked at his father in quite the same way ever again.
Burke quickly learned that the answer to the question “How are things?” was always “Fine.” Even if it was a lie. “Fine” apparently allowed his father to feel that he'd fulfilled his paternal responsibility by asking. Anything else resulted in uncomfortable silence. Similarly, saying, “I love you” to his father, which Burke had done on only a handful of occasions, was returned with a single nod of the head. Even hugging seemed to trigger something in him, some deep unease that caused his body to become rigid and his arms to turn into pieces of wood.
It wasn't until his first boyfriend, then the second, third, and fourth complained about his inability to communicate that Burke realized he had inheritedâor at least learned to emulateâhis father's reluctance to show emotion. And it had taken him a long time to overcome it to the extent that he had. But could his father do the same?
Maybe,
he thought,
it was too much to ask.
Maybe after so many years it was simply too late. Maybe he just had to accept that his father was a closed book. Burke wondered if Lucy got anything out of him, or if she, too, just didn't bother trying. How many times could you bang on a closed door before you got tired of hurting your hand and went away?
he thought,
it was too much to ask.
Maybe after so many years it was simply too late. Maybe he just had to accept that his father was a closed book. Burke wondered if Lucy got anything out of him, or if she, too, just didn't bother trying. How many times could you bang on a closed door before you got tired of hurting your hand and went away?
He looked out the window. “Looks like it's going to rain,” he said.
CHAPTER 15
“D
on't you want to go somewhere else?” Will followed behind as Burke made his way clumsily through the grass. They had returned to the ruins of the Wrathmore farm.
on't you want to go somewhere else?” Will followed behind as Burke made his way clumsily through the grass. They had returned to the ruins of the Wrathmore farm.
“I want to try a different camera,” Burke said. He had brought the little Brownie Hawkeye with him. It was the simplest of the cameras he'd found in the collection of his grandfather's things, essentially a box with a shutter, and the easiest for him to use with a broken arm. There was no focusing to be done, no lenses to manipulate or shutter speeds to consider. All he had to do was press a button and take the picture.
His plan had been to go back to the pond, but now that he was there, he found himself drawn to the field behind the house. The grass there was spotted with patches of brown-eyed Susans and Queen Anne's lace, and he thought they might make a nice background.
“Do you know why this is called Queen Anne's lace?” he asked Will.
“I'm sure you'll tell me,” Will said, swatting at a bee that was flying around his head.
“After Queen Anne, wife of James the First,” Burke said. “James was a big homo. Well, he was at least bi, but he certainly seemed to prefer men.”
“Which has what to do with a flower?” asked Will.
“Nothing,” Burke admitted. “It's just interesting. Anyway, the story goes that some of Anne's friends bet her that she couldn't make lace in the shape of a flower. She did, only she pricked her finger, and that's why there's a drop of red in the center of every flower.”
Will picked the head from a nearby plant and looked at it. “Sure is,” he said. “I suppose now you're going to tell me how the brown-eyed Susan got its name.”
“That's an interesting story, too,” Burke said, stopping to catch his breath. “According to legend, a girl named Susan was warned by her father not to run through the fields after the hay was harvested, because she might trip and hurt herself. She ignored him and did it, anyway. Sure enough, she tripped and fell. One of the stalks went right into her eye, and when she got up, her eye was stuck to it. It looked just like the flowers that grew in the field, so they named them after her.”
“You just made that up,” said Will.
“No,” Burke said. “But my cousin Rhonda did. She told me that story when I was four, and I fell for it. She also told me the brown-eyed Susans could see me, and that if I did anything bad, Susan's ghost would come for me.”
“Nice girl,” said Will.
“Yeah, well, she's a proctologist now, so that will tell you something about her.” He walked a little farther and found a spot where the grass thinned out a little and the flowers were denser. “Stand over there,” he told Will. “You get to be my model.”
“I thought you just wanted pictures of flowers,” Will said.
“I'll get pictures of flowers,” Burke assured him. “But this is a fixed-focus lens, and I can't bend my knee to get close. So I'm going to shoot the flowers
with
you. Now, get over there.”
with
you. Now, get over there.”
Will did as he was told. “How's this?” he asked, standing in front of a clump of Queen Anne's lace.
“Boring,” Burke told him. “You're not posing for a yearbook photo. Try looking interesting.”
Will grinned. “Some people think this
is
interesting,” he said. “What do you want me to do? Stand on my head?”
is
interesting,” he said. “What do you want me to do? Stand on my head?”
“Can you?” Burke asked.
Will gave him the finger.
Burke snapped the photo. “That's better,” he said as he advanced the film. “At least you did something.”
“So that's what you want, is it?” said Will. “Then how's this?”
He unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing and pulled it off, revealing a white wifebeater underneath. He tossed the shirt aside and stood with his thumbs in the loops of his jeans, pulling them down a bit in front.
“Very Abercrombie,” Burke teased. “You need to dirty it up somehow.”
Will fumbled with the buttons on his fly, opening the top two. His jeans gaped, revealing a forest of dark hair. “Better?” he asked.
Burke didn't answer. He was busy framing Will in the shot. There was something both innocent and sexual about his pose, and having the flowers around him made the scene even more interesting. “Keep doing that,” Burke said.
Will cocked an eyebrow. “You mean go lower?” he asked, reaching for his fly. Then his hand stopped. “Or maybe something like this.” He pulled the wifebeater over his head, revealing a lean, well-muscled torso. His skin was pale where it was normally covered with a shirt, brown where it was exposed to the sun. His nipples were small, and when he lifted his arms, he exposed underarms furred with dark hair.
He's beautiful,
Burke thought as he took another picture.
Burke thought as he took another picture.
Will seemed to be settling into his role as model, turning one way and then another, looking directly into the camera and then away. Burke took shot after shot, until the roll ran out.
“I've got to change film,” he told Will.
Will walked over to him. He took the camera from Burke's hand and set it on the ground. “I have a better idea,” he said, taking Burke's hand and guiding it to his open fly. Burke felt rough hair beneath his fingertips and caught his breath. He hesitated a moment, then went farther. His hand touched Will's cock, which was already half hard. He wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed. Will moaned.
The sun suddenly felt too warm. Burke felt a bead of sweat run down his back.
You shouldn't do this,
he told himself.
You shouldn't do this,
he told himself.
Will shucked his jeans down, and his cock sprang free. He was now completely naked. Burke looked down at him and felt himself begin to stiffen.
“Come on,” Will said. “Lie down.”
He helped Burke onto the ground, where Burke lay on his back in the grass, looking up at the blue summer sky. He allowed Will to unbutton his shirt and pull it open. Then Will was undoing his belt and pulling his shorts and boxers down over his cast. The grass was scratchy against Burke's ass, but he ignored it as Will straddled him, his butt against Burke's thighs and their cocks touching. Will's smooth balls slid along Burke's belly as Will leaned forward and kissed him.
Burke moved his mouth down Will's neck, tasting his sweat. Will moved forward so that Burke could take one of his nipples into his mouth. He bit down gently and felt Will's dick twitch. He reached up and pinched the other one, and again Will's dick responded.
“Turn around,” he told Will.
Will obeyed, swinging around so that his ass was on Burke's chest and he was facing Burke's cock.
“Suck me,” Burke told him.
As Will bent and took the head of Burke's dick in his mouth, Burke parted Will's ass cheeks with his hands, exposing the rosy center. He leaned forward and tickled Will's asshole with his tongue. Will jumped, clearly unused to the sensation. This made Burke more excited, and he buried his face in Will's ass, holding him in place and moving his tongue, first in slow circles and then in longer, quicker thrusts.
Will worked on Burke's cock inexpertly but enthusiastically. He took as much of it into his throat as he could and used his hand to stroke the remaining length. His own prick leaked precum onto Burke's stomach, falling in thick drips the more Burke tongued his hole. His balls were nestled against Burke's chin, and every so often Burke took them into his mouth, sucking gently.
When Will was wet, Burke slid a finger inside of him. Will pushed back against the pressure, taking Burke to the knuckle. He continued to suck Burke's cock as Burke moved his finger in and out, and gradually Burke felt him relax. He pulled his finger out and pulled Will's face away from his cock. Will, understanding, turned again so that he was once more sitting on Burke's belly. He reached behind and grabbed Burke's cock. Then he lifted himself up, positioned the head of Burke's dick against his asshole, and lowered himself.
He moved slowly. Burke watched his face as his expression changed from one of discomfort to one of tentative pleasure. He resisted the urge to push up into Will's warm ass, letting him go at his own pace. Finally he was all the way in, and Will's ass was pressed against his stomach. Will put his hands on Burke's shoulders and lifted himself up until just the head of Burke's cock was inside of him. Will's ass and thighs were lightly haired, and Burke ran his fingertips gently over them, tracing the lines of muscle.
He kept his eyes open, looking up at Will's face. Behind Will's head the clouds passed slowly. All around them the grass formed a curtain, hiding them from view. A warm breeze caused it to rustle softly. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, and Burke had no idea how long their lovemaking had gone on. He felt only the sun and wind and Will's body against his.
He was getting close. His fingers gripped Will's thighs and he closed his eyes as the pressure rose to unbearable heights and exploded. As he came inside of Will, he cried out, his body shivering with the force of his orgasm. Will came right behind him. Thick ropes of cum exploded from his cock, covering Burke's neck and chest with their sticky heat. Will wrapped his fingers around his shaft and stroked, coaxing more from it. Burke felt him shake as he came repeatedly.
Will remained in place for a minute afterward, breathing heavily. Drops of sweat fell from his body onto Burke's. Burke felt the cum on his skin drying in the heat of the sun.
Finally Will slid off of Burke and rolled onto the grass beside him. “Fuck, that was hot,” he said. Then he laughed. “You took my cherry,” he said. “How's it feel to be a virgin killer?”
Burke wondered if this was true but said nothing. Instead, he picked up Will's wifebeater and wiped his chest with it. “As payment I get to keep this,” he said.
Will slapped his leg. “Dirty old man,” he said.
“You're the one who took advantage of my disability,” Burke teased. “I couldn't have gotten away if I'd wanted to.”
“If you'd
wanted
to,” Will stressed. “But I don't think you did.”
wanted
to,” Will stressed. “But I don't think you did.”
All of a sudden Burke realized something. “We shouldn't have done that,” he said. “
I
shouldn't have done that.”
I
shouldn't have done that.”
Will turned his head. “Done what?” he said.
“I didn't use a condom,” said Burke. “Fuck, what was I thinking?”
“Relax,” Will said. “It was my first time. You've got nothing to worry about.”
“I'm not worried about me,” said Burke. “I'm worried about you.”
“Why? You have something I should know about?” Will asked.
Burke shook his head. “No,” he said. “But you don't know that. Promise me you won't ever do that again.”
“With you, or with anyone else?” Will said.
Burke tried to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his leg. “With
anyone,
” he said. “Guys my age didn't march and scream and convince themselves condoms are hot just so you guys can get sick all over again.”
anyone,
” he said. “Guys my age didn't march and scream and convince themselves condoms are hot just so you guys can get sick all over again.”
“Relax,” Will said. “Message received. But I think since this is
your
fault, I should get to blow a load up your ass and we can call it even.”
your
fault, I should get to blow a load up your ass and we can call it even.”
“Fucker,” Burke said, reaching over and pinching Will's nipple.
“Seriously,” Will said. “That was hot.”
“Agreed,” said Burke. “Not smart, but hot.”
“You worry too much,” said Will, sitting up. “I told you, it's okay.”
He leaned down and kissed Burke, his tongue teasing Burke's. Burke resisted for a moment, then kissed him back.
What are you doing?
he asked himself.
You know this is a bad idea.
What are you doing?
he asked himself.
You know this is a bad idea.
“What is it about this place?” Will asked when they broke apart. “I feel like I'm dreaming.”
“You too?” Burke said. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“It's like time stopped or something,” said Will. He grinned. “Or maybe you just fucked me silly.”
“Keep it up and I'll do it again,” Burke threatened.
“I'm ready when you are,” Will countered, pointing to his cock, which was already hard again.
Burke groaned. “What are you trying to do, kill me?” he asked as he reached for Will's prick. “Come here.”
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