Summer Sweat (Spruce Texas)

“Okay.” Hoyt pockets the lube and condom. “Sorry. I’m being my old pushy self again. You aren’t ready. That’s okay.” He takes a breath, then shrugs. “You know what? We can just relax tonight if you want. Talk about nothin’. Or chat about more masturbation fantasies, if you prefer.”

I’m surprised by how quickly he backed off, choosing to stop and respect my wishes. I study him with uncertainty, unsure of what to say or do. Am I holding back too much? Is he right? Could I be denying myself the most amazing experience ever?

But is denying myself also the more responsible thing to do?

Shouldn’t I be the big, smart adult here?

Why am I even considering changing my mind …?

“I may not go to college.”

His words pull me from my thoughts. “You … what? Why?”

“Might have to defer. Maybe a year, year and a half.” He rolls his eyes and chuckles. “There’s my stepdad’s words, spillin’ right out of my mouth. But maybe he’s right. I didn’t get into UT. And even if I did, without scholarships, it isn’t gonna happen. Maybe it isn’t realistic to save up enough money over the summer to afford even community college in Fairview.”

“Don’t give up hope so quickly, Hoyt.”

“I’m telling you all this because …” He struggles for a second, then meets my eyes. “Because maybe your idea of what I’m gonna find out there is just as unrealistic.”

I wrinkle my face at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna meet other guys my age. I’m not gonna meet other guys at all. Is that what you told yourself at eighteen?” he asks suddenly. “Did you tell yourself you’d find a special guy?”

I don’t like thinking back to that time. Nostalgia is bittersweet in the way it hurts while making you smile. I remember the happy days with Tanner and Kirk and the guys. I know how I felt when I was part of a team.

I know how fast that feeling disintegrated after we graduated and became adults.

“So what I’m saying,” Hoyt goes on, “is that if you’re sayin’ I should hold out for someone my age? That isn’t gonna happen. I’m here right now. I like you. I trust you. I feel more myself in this stinky place than I ever have … and I think that feeling started the day I met you.”

He takes hold of my hand. Then he takes the other. His touch is gentle yet assuring. He doesn’t say anything else.

I didn’t have my twenties to date. I didn’t have the whole far-off college experience Tanner had, though he claims he didn’t do anything with the gay guys he met. I didn’t run off to Los Angeles like Lance did to be free and find myself.

I spent the past decade shoveling manure.

Harvesting crops.

Fine-tuning my expertise in furniture making.

Am I crazy to think Hoyt might actually have a point …?

“Alright,” I say.

He was rubbing my hands. They stop as he lifts his eyebrows at me questioningly, waiting, held in suspense.

I look at him. “You do realize … that if we do this together … you and I … we’re going past the point of no return.”

Hoyt looks me right in the eye. Then he brings my hands to his warm bare chest, where I feel his heart racing. “Harrison,” he says. “We’re already far beyond the point of no return.”

My lips part.

He comes forward, and takes my mouth with his.

I’m pressed to my back as he crawls over me, his lips on mine as we kiss deeply. It’s a different style of kissing than before, the way he drags his lips over mine, now and then teasing them with his tongue. His breath is warm and clean, and each time one kiss ends, another begins seamlessly.

He’s just in his sporty boxer-briefs, and I’m in just my jeans—but not for long. Without interrupting our kiss, he fumbles blindly for my pants, managing to unzip them. I assist in wriggling my hips and legs out of them, then kick them away, now just in my briefs. Our crotches grind together, both of us hard, both of us aching, both of us never getting enough.

“How’re we doing this?” I ask while we kiss, my words turned into soft breath on his cheeks.

“I think …” We can’t stop kissing. “… it might be smartest …” His lips are so firm yet supple. “… for our first time …” He tastes perfect. “… if you’re the bottom.”

“Yeah? Does that …” I could kiss him all night. “… make you feel more comfortable?”

He pulls away and shoots me a look. “Have you seen your dick? I’m gonna need some practice rounds or somethin’ before I try taking that up my tight tushie.”

Tushie. Adorable. I got him calling his own ass his ‘tight tushie’. “I’m all for what makes you feel great.”