It started snowing an hour after Randall got onto the main highway. Cold air ran along his fingers and the back of his neck. He adjusted the woolen cap he wore and tried not to think about the growling in his stomach or the numbness in his toes. The threadbare sneakers provided little protection from the wet snow falling on them.
A mile into his walk, a hefty white truck appeared. It slowed as it neared him, its lights causing him to have to cover his eyes.
"Rough time out here, bud!"
The driver spoke from a cracked window, his booming voice deep and resonant.
"Yeah. Just my luck," Randall said, taking a few steps forward. "I'll make it, though!"
"Need a lift?"
"I'm going the other way, my man. Thanks, though."
The truck pulled up, went hard to one side, then turned around. It sidled up next to Randall and the driver called from the open passenger window. At first, Randall tried to act like he'd gone deaf. Snow blew harder into his face.
"Don't be a stubborn ass. Get in!"
Shifting his pack, Randall veered off the shoulder of the highway. The handle of the truck door was cold against his bare hand but he managed to pull it open. A blast of warm air greeted him as he stepped up onto the sideboard. Getting in took some effort because he had to juggle his pack. He wedged it into the floorboard, then closed the door.
"It'll warm up in no time," the driver said, putting up the windows. "Get that jacket off so you can get out of some of that wet."
"I'm good," Randall muttered, putting his hands over the blowing air vent.
"You really are a stubborn cuss, aren't you?"
"Just not comfortable around strangers."
"I'm Steven Shapely. Parts-store owner and occasional good guy."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Shapely."
"Not gonna tell me who you are?"
"I'm just going up to Frankfurt but you can drop me wherever."
Steven chuckled. "You eaten, today?"
The rumbling of Randall's stomach answered for him. Steven chuckled again and hit the blinker. They turned at the next exit and pulled into a Waffle House. The truck idled while the driver shifted in his seat. Randall felt the eyes on him and it made him want to run. Fast. He tried not to bolt, to make for the highway again. He tried to stay still and listen to the rumbling voice and the gentleness it held.
"I'm just wanting to help you, here. I don't expect anything from you. There are still nice people in the world and I'd like to think I'm one of them."
"Yeah. Okay."
"Damn," Steven said, opening his door. "Come on, kid. Anything you want. No ordering from the cheap section just because you're embarrassed."
Inside, Randall ordered the largest plate possible with extra hash browns and toast. When the food came, he started eating almost before the plate touched the table. Steven watched, sipping his coffee and waiting on his omelet. At a little after noon, the noise in the place was enough not to make the silence between them awkward.
"You'll make yourself sick," Steven said. "Slow down. You've got time."
"Snow's pretty heavy. I don't want to be walking in a blizzard."
"What's in Frankfurt for you? Seeing your folks for Christmas?"
"Funeral. My dad's dead."
Steven's coffee cup froze. "Damn, kid. Sorry to hear it."
Randall kept eating. He shoveled the food into his mouth, swallowing almost right away. He took time to gulp down the water, then finished off his biscuits and gravy. He glanced outside to the larger flakes of snow and the deeper gray of the incoming clouds. Across from him, Steven put his cup down.
"You're not going to get to Frankfurt for another day, even if I could drive you the whole way. I can't because I've got church tomorrow. In addition to everything else, I pastor, from time to time."
"It's okay," Randall said, swallowing the last of his toast. "I can make it on my own."
"I'll bet you could."
After finishing the last of his food, Randall drained his water glass. "I'm gonna piss."
He left the table and ducked into the bathroom.
The waitress brought Steven's food, which he finished before Randall returned to the table. He slid in and drank half of his refilled water glass. He avoided the other man's eyes, deciding to watch the snow, instead. He pulled his light jacket together, feeling the cold without being in it.
Steven paid the check when it came. "I can take you another few miles. Bus station, maybe?"
"No money for a bus. That's why I'm hoofin' it."
"It's on the way and you can wait out the majority of the storm, there. You ready?"
"Yeah. Okay."
It didn't take the truck long to heat up once they were back inside and on the road. Randall kept his eyes on the road and the worsening conditions. Steven turned on the stereo, filling the cab with Christmas music. He sang along as they neared the bus station. Traffic thinned the further they drove.
"Looks like you're in luck, kiddo. Right there is the vehicle you need to be on."
Randall saw the same bus with Frankfurt on its destination sign. "I told you, I don't have money for a bus. At most, I can scrounge fifteen bucks."
"Get your stuff. I'm putting you on that bus."
"I can't let you do that."
"Kid, you can't stop me, either."
Randall shook his head. "I'll get there on my own."
"How? By doing what you did back at the diner?"
Brown eyes shifted outside the cab again. "If I have to."
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, kid. You don't have to. I just want to help."
"I appreciate the ride. I can make it from here."
The locks engaged. "Why won't you let me help?"
"Are you going to keep me locked in here?"
The locks disengaged. Randall pushed open the door and got out. He gathered his pack, pulled his coat closed, and walked toward the terminal. Steven watched until he disappeared inside. A light crowd gathered in the main lobby, most waiting for the ticket booth to reopen. Near the entrance, Randall found a seat and opened his bag to find his directions. Across from him, a man caught his attention. He started to make occasional eye contact, which caught the man's attention. It didn't take long for the strange communication to prompt both of them to get up and disappear into the men's room.
In the last stall, the man slid the lock into place while Randall sat down on the toilet. "We gotta be quiet about this," the man told him, working his fly down. "Can't get caught."
"Yeah. This isn't my first time. You?"
"Hell, no. I get two or three of these a week. Not by somebody as cute as you, though. Is this going to cost me much?"
"I need to be on that Frankfurt bus. How big a dent can you make in the cost?"
"Half?" The man offered, stepping over. "Best I can do."
"Yeah. Okay. Half is better than what I have now."
After the formalities, Randall watched the man pull out a sizable shaft with a hooded head. It smelled of stale soap and a little sweat. Not bad. He touched his tongue to it. The man oozed his excitement, making it easier to take it. Soon, the guy was making soft sighing sounds and Randall was making sure he had something to sigh about. The guy's length was comfortable in his mouth and he wasn't being aggressive like the guy at the Waffle House.
"Goddamn, kid..." the guy hissed. "So fucking close."
Before he could finish, a soft knock on the stall door stopped them both.
"It's taken," the guy said, holding Randall's head still.
"By two people?" The voice on the other side said. "You're aware that sexual acts in a public place are illegal, right?"
"Shit," the guy said, working his cock out of the other's mouth. "Nothing like that's going on. We're just having...a conversation."
The stall door opened and the guy squeezed by the intruder. He didn't stop until he was outside the men's room and on his way back to the lobby. Back inside the cramped bathroom, Steven waited for the blowup. It never came. Randall stood up, gathered his pack, and tried to exit the stall.
"Just a minute. You wouldn't let me pay for your ticket but you'd blow a stranger for the money?"
Randall's eyes stayed on the floor. Steven stepped into the stall and laid a gentle hand on the other's left cheek. The larger, wider man leaned in and touched his lips to Randall's. The first few seconds of contact drew a sigh. The next few seconds made the younger, slighter male step back.
"No kissing. Never any kissing. If you want anything else, I'm down."
"So, you'll let me debase you but you won't let me kiss you?"
"Debase away, man. It's what I'm here for."
Steven's meaty hand closed over the stall door and pulled it closed. He slid the lock into place. Before Randall could react, he pinned the boy against the wall. One hand slid under the damp t-shirt while the other worked at the front of his pants. The pack hit the floor hard. Randall tried moving to let things go faster and easier but the other man's body made it difficult. The insistent gentleness of the man's hands working on him made it even more difficult. Steven knew his way around a man's body, it felt like. His shirt slid up while his pants pooled around his ankles. A scratchy beard tickled his bare neck as the man kissed and bit at him. There was an insistent feel to the way Steven did what he did but Randall loved it. The way the man took control of him was thrilling. Different, too. In the best way. Soon, he was without his shirt and jacket, without his pants, and he didn't wear underwear. Steven's mouth moved over his torso, licking, biting, and tasting him. Randall sighed.
Steven moved him so he could step out of his jeans. Nude, Randall was at the mercy of the man's roaming, insistent mouth. Steven touched every inch of his body on the way down to his crotch. There, his hardened cock oozed out his own excitement. Steven squatted. Randall held the man's shoulders to keep from collapsing.
The man's tongue brought him onto his toes. Randall sighed again when the head of his cock was enveloped in warmth and wet. He dropped his head, biting his lip as the man eased the length into his mouth. Steven wedged his hand in between the other's legs and a wet finger found his asshole. This wasn't something Randall planned on but he raised one leg to open himself up. Steven pressed. The sweet ring opened for him and he slipped in a damp finger. Then two. They began working back and forth against the direction of his mouth. Randall held tighter to the man's shoulders.
"Ugh...uh...oh..."
Steven didn't stop when the other's body went rigid, when the firm length expanded in his mouth. He doubled down, determined to get what it offered. Randall's warm liquid filled his mouth in seconds and he took it all. The taste was better than the syrup he had on his pancakes earlier.
"Dude..."
"Quiet," Steven said, withdrawing his fingers and standing.
He turned Randall into the wall and wedged his legs apart. Using the boy's own cum, he massaged and rubbed the pink pucker until it relaxed. Working his own pants open, he touched the drooling head of his cock to the warm ring and eased inside. When Randall sighed again, he clamped a hand over his mouth and got in close to his ear.
"You've already got half," he said, working inside. "You want the other half, right?"
Randall nodded and pushed back on the invading member. The excitement of the whole thing was making him hard again. The way the man's hands roamed his body, the way they caressed him made him want so much more of the same.
"Bus leaves in less than half an hour. You wanna be on it, right?"
Randall nodded, still pushing back against the other man, trying to get him deeper.
"Fuck yourself. Fuck yourself on my cock, boy. Make me spill my load!"
This, Randall understood. It was the language he knew. He started pushing back hard on the man's thickness. He ground himself into the man's sturdy body, using his close proximity to his advantage. He still wore his shoes but they slipped a little on the linoleum. When they did, Steven made up for it by pushing forward. Randall did the work, though. He pushed and pulled his body along the man's cock. He worked his plump ass on the shaft until the man started making the sound he knew too well.
Bracing himself on the wall, Randall shoved back one last time.
"Fuck, kid..."
Steven ground into him as he came. The first few hits jolted them both. Randall pushed back against the man, making sure he got everything. Steven pushed forward, making sure to give everything.
"Fuck me..." Steven sighed.
"That's extra," Randall muttered, still pinned against the wall.
Steven smiled as he found the other man's mouth. This time, he got no resistance. Randall kissed him back, pushing his tongue into his mouth, arching his back and trying to deepen the kiss. In the small space, he managed to slip out and turn the other around. Randall all but climbed his body as they kissed. Between them, his massive erection returned.
"You got about fifteen minutes to get on that bus."
Randall slowed his enthusiastic kiss. "Is this why you did all this, for real? To fuck me?"
"You are one cynical fuck," Steven said, letting the other ease out of his arms. "No. I told you, I did what I did this because I'm a good person. What we did just now? I did that because it seems to be the only thing you understand -- transaction. It was a transaction."
The man tucked himself back into his pants and zipped them. He reached for his wallet as Randall started dressing. Steven handed him enough money for a bus ticket and a meal. Randall took it.
They walked out of the men's room together. Steven waited while the other bought his ticket.
"Thanks for this," Randall said, holding up the official envelope. "Sorry I was a dick, before."
"I figure you've had a hard life. I get it."
"Randall, by the way. My name's Randall. Calloway."
"Honor to meet you, Mr. Calloway. Best be getting on your bus. They're boarding."
"Again, thanks for this."
"One second, kid. After you've taken care of what you need to in Frankfurt, if you ever want a friendly ear or a strong shoulder, consider coming back. I think I can provide both."
"Maybe," Randall said, shouldering his pack. "Take care of yourself, Mr. Shapely."
"You, too, kid. You, too."
Randall walked to his bus. He found his seat and slid into it. Minutes later, the bus got underway. From the window, he waved at Steven, who stood in the parking lot, beside his truck. The man waved back, the gesture making Randall's chest tighten a little.
"Maybe there are good men left in the world, after all," he said to himself, settling in for his ride home. "I think dad would've liked you, Mr. Shapely."
In the parking lot, Steven opened the door to his truck. As he climbed in, he thought about the news the kid dropped on him. "I wish I'd stayed in better contact with you, Alan. Wouldn't be right for me to go to the funeral, though. That's for family, not ex-boyfriends. What are the odds I'd run into your kid walkin' down the road?" He chuckled. "What are the odds the only way to get through to him was the only way to get through to you -- a dick in your ass?"
Steven started the truck and pulled out of the lot.
END