Harvest

By Sam Davies

Published on Sep 26, 2006

Gay

I woke to the red glow of the setting sun on my face. Slightly dazed, I looked round knowing something was missing. Kyle. He was gone. To where I had no idea. It must have been a hundred plus degrees in my room; I was sweating profusely without moving. It was definitely time to head down stairs. I rubbed my dry eyes, scratched a few places, and took a good stretch.

It was a relief to know that the rest of the house was not as hot as my bedroom. I walked wearily down the flight of stairs, and smiled when I saw Kyle's red shirt carelessly flung on the ground. What a slob. My eyes drifted into the driveway, and I noted that my truck was still there. Apparently he had walked home. Whatever his deal was, I could care less right now. I was hungry as anything and I knew I would see him tomorrow.

My feet barely hit the wooden floor of the landing when I heard a gentle rapping at the door. I looked into the wall mirror as I walked by to make sure I looked half decent. After confirming my presentibility, I opened up the door, not knowing whether to expect publisher's clearing house or Mormon missionaries. It was Justin. He was bent over, his eyes red from crying. A small drip of blood trailing from his nose.

"Oh fuck." I said as I pulled him into my house.

I knew at once he had a run in with his dad. As he walked in front of me I noted a strange pattern of perfectly spaced blood spots on the back of his shirt. He knew exactly where to go. We had done this before.

Slowly he trudged into my kitchen and leaned against the tile counter.

"What did he do to you?" I asked angrily, as I pulled some towels out from beneath he kitchen sink.

"He said I was in the way." Justin mumbled.

"In the way of what?"

"He was trying to get through the gate to the barn, to get something to drink. I stood in the way because I knew what he was doing. I found three bottles of liquor hidden in a muzzle feeder last week. I didn't want him to get to them." he said painfully.

I saw the scene play out in my head. Justin was standing in front of the gate. His dad was already lit, and in need of something a little stronger. Justin would have stood stoically, like an unmovable block. Unfortunately, his father was twice his size and one good hit was all it would have taken to send him stumbling backward into the...

"Holy shit," I said in disbelief, now fully aware of the cause of the bloody patterns on Justin's back.

"Take off your shirt." I ordered.

"I can't," he said quietly, "It hurts to move my arms."

I dug through the one of the kitchen drawers in search of a pair of scissors. Unable to locate what I needed, I picked up a serrated knife that was sitting near the bread box.

"Alright you gotta stand still." I said.

I grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, and carefully sawed through the white fabric. When I cut the bottom hem, the shirt fell completely open revealing his sculpted chest. I slid behind him, and gently pulled the the shirt off his shoulders. As the bloodied garment fell to the floor I was terrified by what I saw.

"Oh my god." I exclaimed beneath my breath.

Justin's property was surrounded by barbed wire, and the proof was now laid across his back. He had fallen right onto the fence.

His top of muscular shoulders bore a perfectly straight line of bleeding holes. About a foot beneath them, another line. Finally a foot below that, just barely above the waist of his pants, stood a third path of wounds. The last one clearly took most of the weight as he fell, because each hole was much wider and deeper then those belonging to the other two sets.

"Justin, man, you gotta go to the hospital. I can't take care of this; and my mom is working the night shift."

"No," he said sternly, "If I do they are gonna come after my dad, and get him for violating his probation. I am not gonna lose him again."

I could see the seriousness in his eyes, but I didn't have a clue what to do. My mother was a nurse, and we had plenty of first aid stuff lying around, but how the fuck was I supposed clean this mess up.

"What do you want me to do?" I demanded from him, "I don't know how to handle something like this."

"Can't you just pour some of that shit that burns on it?" he said, almost crying.

I had never seen him show weakness like this before, and it scared me. I really felt like I was in over my head, but he had come to me in a time of need and I couldn't just turn him away. Justin had been my friend since middle school, and he had been there with me through the good times and the bad. I had to help.

"God damn it," I sighed, "go lay on the couch and take off your jeans."

I dug through what must have been fifty bottles of who knows what before I found the hydrogen peroxide. I grabbed the stack of clean towels I had taken out earlier and a wad of gauze before heading out into the living room. I was greeted by Justin's breathtaking body, sprawled face down and completely nude. Apparently he had decided not to were any underwear today (luckily I was the one to benefit). I sat on the edge of the coffee table and tried to concentrate on the job at hand.

"Alright, I am gonna dab this stuff on your back now. It is gonna hurt, so bear with me." I tried to explain as I poured a small amount of the antiseptic onto the soft white cloth.

Gently, I placed the towel over the first of the many small holes which spotted Justin's back. As I touched his skin, he winced. I tried to be as careful as I could not to hurt him, but like he said, if these things weren't cleaned out well they would get infected. He was perfectly tanned, almost the color of maple syrup. Something, along with his beefy arms, he picked up by working as a roofer after school. It was really a bummer he had such a piss poor attitude, because man, he could have been a serious player if he would just smile every once in a while.

I poured more peroxide on the towel, and moved on to clean the next line of wounds on his back.

"I don't know why you put up with his shit." I stated bluntly.

"Because, I do." he grumbled, "and cause I know that you will always be here to pick up the pieces."

I wasn't sure if this remark was a joke or a compliment.

I dabbed the towel on each small hole left by the metal barbs, and held it there so the chemical could do its work. The muscles in his back and neck tensed repeatedly. Everything about him screamed masculinity, and I was finding it very hard to pay attention to what I was doing. I worked my way down the line of cuts until I had completed all but the last row. The one that rested on the graceful slope leading up his ass. I worked methodically and professionally, more concerned with the well being of my friend then the satisfaction of my own sexual hunger.

"Alright, sit up." I said not remembering that the other side of his body was lacking clothes also.

I immediately looked away to give him his privacy.

"Its no big deal man, its just a dick." he mumbled. I turned to face him. Through the corner of my eye I saw his dark patch of pubes surrounding his flaccid penis.

" I don't have enough band-aids to cover all the holes, so I am just going to wrap this stuff around your chest." I reached for the gauze on the floor, and in doing so came within inches of his cock. I wanted to take a good look, but felt this was not the right time.

"Here, put this under your arm." I instructed, handing him one end of the bandaging. He lifted his strong arm upwards and obeyed.

I then leaned forward, passed the ball of dressing under his other arm, behind his back, and around the base of his stomach. I repeated this motion continuously, trying to keep the wrap tight, while still covering all the wounded areas.

"Thanks for doing this Eric." he said as he placed his tenderly placed his hand on my bare shoulder. "I know that you must think I'm nuts for putting up with all my dad's crap... but you just don't know what is a like to be so alone."

I finished wrapping him up and looked him straight on.

"You will never be alone, and you know that. Me, and Kyle, and Ryan are always gonna be there for you no matter what. We always have been; and although you may not believe it, I know exactly what it is like to be alone. It sucks. No one to talk to who will understand. No one to tell you everything will be okay. Been there and done that buddy. But you just gotta to remember, that we no matter how dark it seems, there will always be someone to help you find your way."

He reached his arm around my back and gave me a tight embrace. The hairs on his arm tickled my side, and I did everything I could to keep from laughing and making a mockery of our serious moment.

"Listen, you are more then welcome to stay here the night. Or you can take my truck, and I will get a ride from Ryan in the morning. Either way though you got to promise me that you'll have my mom take a look at your back."

"Good deal." he said,"I guess I'll just crash here then."

I smiled and showed my approval with a quick nod.

He laid back down on the couch and buried his face in the pillow. I stood up to grab a blanket off the back of one of the reclining chairs. He looked so sexy laying there, the gauze wrapped tight around his muscular frame. I unfolded the blanket and draped it over his white legs and smooth ass. What a sight to behold.

I walked quietly throughout the first floor an shut out all the lights so he cold sleep. It was really a great feeling to know that Justin trusted me so much. I felt like he was a brother; and hopefully he felt this way about me. Sometimes it is really funny when you think about it, how two completely different people, in two completely different situations, can share something unspoken. A mutual understanding of the suffering which both kept locked up inside. I doubt he had any idea why I hurt, but I think he could tell it was there.

Strolling through the now dark house slice of pizza in hand, I stopped behind the couch. The outline of Justin's body was just barely visible in the dim light of the moon. If only he knew how much he meant to me. If only he would understand. I stood just a moment longer and listened to his soft breathing, before climbing back up the stairs to my bedroom.

To be continued.

Sorry if this one seems hastily put together (and somewhat hollow). I reread what I had originally written and decided it was crap... not that this is much better. I'll post what was supposed to be chapter 4 in a few days after I work out a couple issues I am having with it. Thanks for your patience.

Sam (samsam345@gmail.com)

Next: Chapter 5


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