Part XV
I peered through the blinds to see what was causing the noise.
There was a sleek, shiny black sports car outside by the driveway, the engine revving.
Roy sat behind the wheel, sporting a pair of sunglasses, and loafing with his hands behind his head. The car was set to park, and Roy pumped the gas pedal for show.
About a week had passed since Erica introduced me to Matt, and I'd had time to retreat into myself and act childlike around my family. Roy had agreed to pick me up today, the not so special day after Christmas, which frankly, wasn't so special this year around either.
I pouted like Roy was prone to do.
I jumped downstairs two steps at a time, yelled an indistinct goodbye to my parents, and staggered outside. It was brisk; the fog had been stubborn today, and wisps lingered all around. A hint of sunlight dug through the clouds near the horizon, but it was too weak to choke out the mist.
I crept into the seat of Roy's car and we were off a moment later.
"Sweet ride," I said. Hopefully I wouldn't sound like a Martian to a guy that used phrases like hard-ass' and toke.'
"You are wondering how I afford it? Underneath it's nothing special, but I did a lot of body-work."
"So it's like Duke."
"You don't mean that."
"I don't know what I mean anymore."
I wanted to tread on, but I didn't want to put him in a position to defend his friend. I didn't want to argue. Duke fucked up; it wasn't up for debate. Maybe there was nothing to say, anyway.
Roy smacked his lips together, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "I know this really great coffee place around here. Did you want to eat at the shop, or did you have some place to go?"
"There is one place I like to go to."
"Where is it?"
"Don't laugh—but it's a rest stop on the highway. We call it Lookout Point."
"Why would I laugh at that? You are the one always laughing at stuff."
"What? What do I laugh at?" I asked indignantly.
He smacked his lips a few more times and I crossed my arms.
I couldn't help but chuckle a few minutes later when he pulled up to the drive-through.
"Roy—this is Starbucks."
"Yeah; it's good. Have you been here before?"
"My friends like to hang out at Sonic, but every once in a while, I like to shake things up a little. Sometimes, when I get really crazy, I even go to a place that's not a multi-billion dollar international chain."
"This is why Duke pushes you around, you realize that? You provoke people."
"I do not. Duke is the one always pushing people's buttons."
"Maybe both of you are. Maybe that's why there is so much electricity between the two of you."
He ordered a Latte; I got the Strawberries and Cream. I described how to get to Lookout Point, but his eyes darted back to my drink several times while I spoke, still shaded.
"You know," he said, "I thought you would get an actual coffee, and not just some glorified milkshake."
"What can I say? I don't actually like coffee that much."
Roy shook his head, and I looked at my lap, my cheeks turning red.
He pulled the car back onto the road. The tire tread bit the cold pavement like grinding teeth.
"Your windshield is tinted so dark," I said, "I'm not sure you really need the sunglasses."
"I don't. They just help me drive less nervous."
We spent a good while quiet after that, listening to the sound of cars swallowed up in the wind. I murmured the off-ramp number, though it was still a few more miles. He nodded, making some clicking noises.
I inhaled. Roy was wearing the same Cool Metal Axe Deodorant that Duke liked so much. Did he idolize Duke or something?
I looked straight into his shades. "I don't think my relationship with Duke was like electricity at all. Maybe lightning struck once. Or twice. I'm not convinced he's all that great. And I'm sick of this odyssey of setbacks. Like--I'm trying to find home, but I can't get where I am going, so I'm just stuck—marching on a pathway that doesn't seem to begin or end."
"Well...you were just home right now."
"Kind of. I mean--I love Erica—my best friend. There's no one like her. But it doesn't feel like home anymore; it feels like a vacation. I didn't know one semester of school could do that to me. We just had Christmas; and I felt like another one of the relatives, swooping in for a few days, ready to fly away as soon as the pleasantries are over."
"Was it terrible? Or just a bit hollow?"
"It was just different. My aunts and uncles warned me I wouldn't get real presents anymore, and it's not that I mind exactly. I don't need any more action figures or trains or whatever other things I grew out of years before they stopped giving them. I don't want my childhood back. I even gave my shoebox of hot wheels to my cousin Billy, with some of my old figurines and marbles. I didn't exactly like high school; I don't need all these nostalgic reminders--I wasn't some alpha stud like you or Duke. Outside of my circle, I was forgettable, and now I worry that my group was holding me back in some ways—keeping me sealed from having outside world adventures. I guess I'm just afraid that I' m not set up to do anything on my own. I'm just trained to shake my head and think everything isn't good enough."
"So are you looking for some kind of escape then?"
"I don't know," I said, wrinkling my lips.
"Let me tell you something," Roy said. "Do you know what sport Duke and I used to do in high school?"
"Football?"
"Not quite, bro. I'm gonna let you in on a secret. Our freshman year of high school, at the first dance of the year, Duke and I show up all dolled-up, hoping to get laid. Duke wasn't built back then—but he was still a hot piece of work. Thin. Shapely. He could have been on magazine covers, even then. Anyone that saw him—just got that feeling in their gut. At one point, a senior chick stumbled over, and I figured she saw it too. She was drunk, but Duke and I didn't even know what drunk looked like at the time. We were just two clumsy dorks with rad hair. She flirted with Duke, and before the dance ended, they were locking lips in the middle of the dance floor. She didn't even really want to be with Duke; she just wanted to piss off Vin, the quarterback, by dumping him for a freshman."
Roy swallowed, and I nodded at him to go on.
"Vin was still a Junior, so he still had almost two years to screw with Duke. He blacklisted him—man--no one would hang with us. All the jock guys shunned him. Girls might go on one date with him once, then fall of the face of the Earth. He couldn't gel on any of the sports teams, because he didn't get along, and the shitheads all talked down on his skills, calling him a wannabe and poser and douchebag. By the time Vin graduated, Duke already had a rep, and there was nothing he could do `bout it. We took weight-lifting together and spent a lot of time working out alone. He kind of gave up trying to have real girlfriend; some girls would go to him, expecting a one-night stand with a hung tool, and he just rolled with it—but I don't think the sex was ever good for him, because he didn't feel anything. People just weren't ready or willing to be a good fit for him. Finally last year he found a girl that would have sex with him steady, but by then, he wasn't set up to take anything seriously."
I grunted. "Why are you telling me this?"
"I'm just sayin'—you aren't the only one who needs to move on from the past. Sometimes, people just don't even know when the past is dragging them down. They think the myths that got them through the hard times are real; they can't conceive any difference between the actual world and the one they build in their minds."
I tried to look into his eyes again, but only saw the shadows there. What mindscape had this boy built? Maybe in time he'd tell me.
I nodded gently. "I suppose being at college has given me perspective. I felt like I knew my borough when I lived here—that it was a little representation of everything--but in a sense I knew it even better after I left, because I got a new comparison point. I'd been in other places before, but I'd never lived them. The entire notion of a normal life—seems so meaningless now. Normal is just a matter of what shoe-box you decide to put yourself in. It's not real."
Roy pouted three times before responding.
"Maybe we don't have to put ourselves in boxes with labels and standards. We don't have to be products of the big-box culture we are from. Maybe you are mad at Duke, because despite it all—despite his Axe deodorant and gym-ratty brain and show-off charm—he still doesn't take his culture seriously, and it makes him something of a paradox. And you can't decide whether you like it or not. You want to get to the end of the road—but what if at the end, you say, `That's it? That's all there is?' With Duke, sometimes you won't know where it is you are going. You might not be goin' anywhere. If it is between Duke's road and a boring, sticky shoebox-- then maybe it's worth shaking up the box."
"Do you think the path Duke sweeps out can take me away? Away from that trapped feeling?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you can build your own."
"I'm not really a trailblazer, Roy."
"Sometimes, you don't have a choice."
I nodded, looking down, until I saw a landmark I recognized out of the corner of my eye.
I pointed to the exit and the car groaned as he pulled off the turnpike.
"Up there," I said. "Pull the car into the grass behind the bathrooms."
He rounded the corner and parked his car about fifty feet from the cliff. Up ahead, we could see the reflection of the sunset on the water. It looked like someone took a lawnmower to a quilt and sprinkled the shredded fluff haphazardly across the sky. The ragged clouds blushed pink and orange. I had to crane my neck around to see the sun. The halo of light and its tendrils hung in the air, twinkling, before sinking behind the mountains.
"Wanna sit on the hood of the car?" Roy asked.
"Aren't you afraid we'll scuff the bodywork?"
"I can risk it."
"I'll freeze my ass off."
"You can risk it."
We slurped out the rest of our drinks and moved to the hood of the car, lying back against the windshield. When Roy saw me shiver, he fetched a blanket out of the trunk, sidled up next to me, and draped it over us.
"Is this a date?" I asked, suddenly aware of his breath on the back of my neck.
"I don't know," he said. "I knew I wanted to see you again. It can be totally innocent if you want."
"Okay," I whispered, looking into his eyes. He'd taken off his sunglasses, finally; I could see the brown flakes twinkling in them. My gaze drifted out over the ocean.
"Still thinking about Duke?" he asked.
"You called it his `show-off charm.' I just wonder—which parts are of are real and which parts are for show—and if he even knows."
"And you are hoping that all the things you like are real and all the things you don't like are fake."
"Maybe. Is that so naïve?"
"I'm not sure. It would be. When he gets dishonest, he wastes everyone's time, and it seems like that is all there is to him. But then he has these moments where he will say something or do something that shows that he isn't so simple—a glimpse of realness that sort of—validates--not who he is, but who everyone around him is. And those moments take on an almost sacred quality, because it's rare to find anyone that has them."
"Can you give me a `for instance'?"
"Like when Mango Musketoon called him onstage and he was a go-go boy for a day. He could have backed down and got a cup of beer thrown at his face, but he didn't. He participated. He let his road take a detour, and that's when you find places like this one. And that's when you knew—that he could be the one that you look out for, at the end of the line, when everything gets vague and grey. So you kissed his foot, and looked into his eyes, and you loved him."
I felt my cheeks flush. "How do you know all this?"
Roy made a sucking noise on his tongue. "He tells me things. I can guess the rest."
"So if I love Duke—then what's tonight for?"
Roy nibbled on my ear. "It's a detour."
I moaned softly. "You hoping to take me for a ride?"
"Fuck yeah."
He started to massage my back from bottom to top, pushing my shirt up as he went. When he pulled it off, I didn't stop him. He rustled his own shirt off a moment later. He wasn't suave—it looked like he was trying to shake a rodent out of his clothes or something—but I was too concerned with the cold to laugh.
"After all you told me about Duke—I don't know if I can. If it would feel right."
"It's all up to you then," Roy said. "Because it feels right to me. You can't fault a guy for tryin'."
My teeth chattered, and I felt Roy wrap himself around me. His muscles tightened and the smell of him mingled with the smell of the ocean. I could feel that his body was naked now—except the arrowhead necklace digging into my shoulder.
His tongue swirled into my ear. "I wanna fuck you."
I didn't respond at first. His hips gyrated against mine; I could feel his hardness digging against my ass.
"Please...please let me fuck you."
My mouth hung open; I couldn't find words.
Then, slowly, I nodded.
Roy snarled; then he grabbed my head and pinned it sideways against the windshield. His hands roamed down my back, snaking underneath me and undoing the button of my jeans. The zipper flared soon after. Roy pulled my jeans down to my knees, along with my underwear, in one brutish motion.
"Don't worry; I won't let your ass freeze," Roy breathed.
He gripped one of my ass cheeks, then the other, and played with them for about a minute. Then I heard a snapping noise and felt something cool run down my crack.
Roy had ripped open a packet of lube. With one hand, he moistened my hole, carving out a slow circle around the ring before pushing slightly inside. My mouth hung open; I tasted the frost on the glass. I heard clicking as Roy used his free hand to jack his cock, which he had let loose. I felt the warmth and firmness bouncing around, then stretching me, as he burrowed between my ass cheeks and lined his cockhead up with my hole.
He chewed on my ear, grabbing the blanket and draping it over us. "I'm gonna fuck you."
My eyes flickered toward him, and I nodded.
His hands came down on the windshield around me as he plunged his cock inside.
I grunted, arched my back, and tilted my head back; Roy grabbed me by the hair and pressed my face hard into the glass.
He smacked his lips inches from my ear. "That feels so good, bro. Don't fight it." He paused for a moment before whispering. "Don't get too caught up—in the past—or the future neither. Sometimes, you just gotta let yourself enjoy feelin' right now."
I bit down on my lip, closed my eyes, and whimpered.
He moved his hands back down to my ass and stretched the cheeks far apart in his hands. He then chewed and sucked on his tongue. "Your hole is like velvet. But tense as hell. Mmmn, yeah."
He hastened and strengthened his thrusts, growling.
"I know you can take it--deeper. I saw your ass swallow up Duke's monster. You can take it balls-deep."
"Roy," I whispered, "Slow down."
Roy pouted, keeping his cock motionless, buried half-way inside me. He started to gnaw on my neck, then moved back to my ear, which he seemed partial toward. "Please let me fuck you, bro. You have such a sweet hole. I just—gotta--pound it."
Something about the way he talked to me softened me up. I could feel the muscles in my ass weakening; my hole opened a little and drew more of his cock inside.
"Mmmn, God that feels good," he groaned.
I tried to control my breathing. "Ride my ass, Roy. Go ahead."
"Awe, yeah," he said. I tilted my head a little in order to see the glint in his eye and the shadow of his broad smile. "Yeah bro, I'm gonna ride you real hard."
He slapped my ass, and then drove deep into my hole. He pulled out slowly, then thrust inside again. Blow by blow, he inflated my ass until his cock fit deep inside. It was less traumatic than Duke's style, but still, I felt reconstructed in a way I never did with Joey. With Joey, sex was stagnant. With Roy or Duke, it was a progression.
I became--boyhole.
And at some level, I liked it.
My eyes gave me away.
When Roy got all the way in, he blew in my ear, waiting in place. "I'm all the way inside you bro. Your body is flushed. Do you like that? Being all vulnerable and—impaled--for the pleasure of Duke's best bro?"
"Roy," I crackled, "Just do it."
But he was a talker, and he loved to lay it out for me.
"You like it," he said, gripping my ass again. "You like being manhandled."
His palms rolled up my back till he toyed with my shoulders and neck. He reached under and pinched my nipple and I shivered, leaning back and forth.
"You like getting taken to the edge. You like when a guy takes control. You like when Duke makes you his fuckhole."
I whimpered, my eyes rolling back slightly. I didn't want the feelings to stop, but I didn't want to give everything away either.
"Don't you—fuckhole?"
My breathing was shredded and all over the place like the clouds above me.
I nodded.
"Say it," Roy said, licking my ear.
"I like being his fuckhole," I whispered. "I like getting lost in the joyride."
"I bet you do," Roy growled. "Let's see you get lost in this."
Roy accelerated, humping my hole with an accentuated zeal, like he was trying to make sure that I felt everything.
I grunted; I teetered back and forth; Roy pinned me harder against the glass.
The blanket had rolled down us bit by bit till it was at our thighs. I could feel the cool wind on my ass.
"Yeah, bro, flex that hole."
I felt my ring clench as he spoke; I couldn't stop it; I pushed my ass into the air; I understood with a crystal clarity.
It was the focal point.
It was my jewel.
He pulled out completely, swirling his cockhead around the ring.
"Yeah, bro, spread your ass cheeks for me."
I tried to catch my breath, pulling my ass cheeks to the side, making my hole glint up at Roy. With my head pinned sideways to the glass, I could steal a peek at him; I could see him biting his tongue and smacking his lips as he leered at my stretched hole, prodding it playfully with the head of his cock.
"Fuck me," I whimpered.
"Yeah? You want my cock back inside you? You want to get pounded?"
"C'mon Roy. You know I want it."
"Now look who is beggin'."
"Roy—please..."
He breathed in my ear, dragging his wet lips across it.
"Yeah, you're a hot hole for me--fuck yeah."
He snarled and plunged his cock back inside.
I whimpered and he covered my mouth for a second.
"Shut up bro, someone could hear you."
I nodded, my eyes growing wide.
I tried to stay quiet, but still, the clapping noise of his body against mine was clearly audible; it was hard to stay silent as he hurled shockwaves through my body.
"Yeah, you like this, don't you, bro?"
He lapped at my ear as he bounced in and out of me.
"You should know how fortunate you are."
I nodded against the windshield, closing my eyes, then kissed it with a smack.
"Did you just kiss my car?"
I blushed but didn't answer.
"You are one—crazy--fuck."
I pushed my ass against him and clamped down.
"Fuckin' shit," he whispered. "You got me so hot, bro."
"Roy," I said. "Show me--the horizon."
"You wanna feel the edge of the world?"
I nodded slowly.
"Once you are at the edge—there is no going back."
"I'm ready."
Roy snarled—and I could feel his chest broaden out—he flexed his arm around my head, pinning my face deep in his armpit. He had total leverage on my body.
Then, with a deep thrust, he buried his cock inside me.
"You like that?" he asked.
I moaned into his skin.
His balls ground against me; his abdominals beat against my back.
I struggled, but Roy just flexed harder. Then, I felt the humidity of his breath on my ear again. "Let's get you to the edge, bro."
He released me; I fell against the glass, gasping for air; the last few shards of sunlight blinded me; I closed my eyes, seeing those little threads dance against my eyelids, though today they were painted orange and pink and gold.
"Fuck yeah...FUCK YEAH."
He slammed inside me with numbing power.
Again, again, and again, he voyaged inside; he made me feel it; I felt as much as I'd ever felt; then oddly, it was too much, and I felt nothing at all.
A little bubble of spit formed at my lips and popped, but I was too far gone to even turn red.
The last glimmer of sun sunk behind the mountains; all the world was grey.
"The horizon's ours."
I moaned as the rhythm of the ride hit a fever pitch.
"Give it to me, Roy. Let me have it."
His cock jumped deep in my hole, stretching from the inside out.
"Okay," he whispered.
He gripped my ass and tread deep within, rolling in and out. It was like gears were clicking inside me, an almost mechanical harmony, until it wasn't mechanical at all.
I just felt—alive.
The thunder of his next few thrusts sent new waves of shock through me; the weakness in my ass cemented; I tried to shove my ass back to meet his thrusts, but I couldn't move anymore.
So I just waited—open and defenseless—vulnerable and impaled.
"Fuck yeah, bro—take it."
He reached around and grabbed my balls, making me gape.
My ass jumped reflexively and he hammered me flat against the glass.
"Don't be afraid, Holden. Cross the edge."
"Roy..."
He bit down on my neck again, jamming his cock inside me with a wild desperation.
He growled, massaging my balls. "Do it for me."
"Roy!"
"Cum for me, boyhole."
I whimpered as he tightened his grip.
I closed my eyes; images flashed across my mind.
Mountains; the sun setting behind them; clouds; snow; skis; jumping free into the air.
I opened my eyes, gasping.
Then, I fired, shot after shot. Thick cum ran down the windshield, pooling at the cusp of the car's hood.
Roy murmured in approval, strengthening his thrusts; my shivering ass milked his cock; soon, our colliding bodies clacked like the cracking before an avalanche.
Then, Roy collapsed on me, filling me up deep inside.
Everything was cloudy, like a dream, and I couldn't make sense of anything till I was half-way home, with images of handprints and lips smearing on the windshield.
Through the foggy glass, I couldn't see much—but I could see the series of streetlamps, getting smaller and smaller in the distance, until they were just little specks of light. When I closed my eyes again, I rolled them over in my mind—making the lamplit path coil and dance against my eyelids.
In my mind, it went on forever.
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