Janus

After they broke the kiss, they stood fingers twined watching the light on the water. Lauren's perfume, now inexorably linked to the moist lake air, still lingered. Lauren's cool fingers contrasted with the memory of the liquid warmth of her lips. On an impulse, Michael brushed her long hair back and kissed her cheek. "It's cold," she commented. Michael responded by drawing her in front and wrapping his fleece-lined arms around her. She snuggled back into to his body. He nuzzled her silken hair memorizing her scent.

"Lauren get over here girl." A girl's voice disturbed their moment together. Lauren walked out of his embrace. To soften his disappointment, she turned and held out her hand. He took it and they walked back to the group by the fire. Lauren sat on the sand near the fire and Michael joined her. It was like they were a couple. She did not mind when he put an arm around her waist. Michael's attention drifted into the fire pulling free only when one person or another addressed him. He let Lauren's conversation drift away from him content to feel her warmth against him. It was the same old round. Someone offered him another beer, but he had only consumed part of his first. Lauren accepted it instead, her voice an excited blur. Riley almost fell into the fire only to be rescued by a man in his early twenties. He was a familiar presence at the high school parties. He likely pulled most of the beer and rye being consumed by the underage teens. The guy looked worn and bloated from years of bush parties and nights in the local bar. Scott did not look like that.

Michael looked around for Scott. He had been near the fire talking to his friends. Michael rose and turned around feeling vaguely guilty. He finally spotted a lonely figure some distance from the party sitting near the water's edge. Michael went to him. Scott's gaze was on the farther shore where a few house lights twinkled along the lip of the valley. Michael dropped down behind Scott and gave him a bear hug from behind. Scott acknowledged it with a hand on his arm. "You've been drinking," Scott commented.

"Yes a little," Michael replied. He slid around and sat beside Scott. He matched Scott's posture, arms resting on his knees.

"It's nice here, you're lucky. I mean growing up by the lake."

"Everyone says that when they come here," Michael stared at Scott's eyes. They glittered and long lashes fluttered as Scott focussed on the water. Michael noticed a dimple when Scott's lips curled into a brief smile. "You live near Cypress Hills. That would be cool." Michael remembered the National Park rising above the parched prairie like some mirage of the foothills of the Rockies so much farther to the west. "What's Medicine Hat like? Do you like the University? Where do you live?"

"Cypress Hills is nice. Our ranch is nice. I'd like to take you there." Scott paused after that. "But it's just a home like Lake Palliser is for you," he concluded flatly. Laughter from the fire distracted them both for a moment. Scott shifted away from talk of Medicine Hat. "You have friends."

"Yeah," Michael nodded.

"You've been so quiet I thought you might not." Michael considered the comment without taking offence.

"We all grew up together, played hockey for a while; I'm tired of it all. This partying, it's all so lame." Michael measured Scott's reaction to his words. "It was cool when I was fourteen like Riley, caging rides down to the park, going out to Seaborg's Trees in the fall or some house in the winter. I sort of stopped going after a while then went back to it when I went out with Kara this year. Maybe I am a bit of a loner now. I guess I'm ready to move on."

"I get that. Medicine Hat is bigger than St. George, more like Saskatoon, nothing like Calgary or Edmonton. Have you been there?"

"A few times passing through to the mountains; we went to Cypress once. Medicine Hat looks more exciting than St. George." Michael noticed Scott's beer between his legs. He took it uninvited and had a sip.

"I think what with being a university town and oil it has more action. There is a lot to do there." Scott stopped talking and took the beer back from Michael, "Your sister?"

"Yeah?"

"Ashley? She told me you got accepted to the University of Assiniboia."

"Yes, just Arts and Sciences though. My parents ... we thought Education was the better route."

"You want to work with kids, teach?"

"I guess." Michael thought of Riley. He liked kids well enough. He was just not ready to make that sort of decision. "It's easier to go to St. George, closer. Ashley has a place, I can stay there. Are you in residence?" Scott jumped up and kicked his sandals off. He turned back to Michael and held out a hand. "What?" Michael asked.

"Let's get in the water."

"It's pretty cold." Michael looked at the offered hand.

"Not to swim, let's just walk." Michael took the preferred hand and Scott hauled him to his feet. He came up so fast Scott had to catch him. Michael careened off Scott's muscular frame and ended cradled in one arm close against him, hip pressed into the bulge of Scott's groin. "Careful," Scott laughed. Scott walked into the water up to his knees and turned back to see if Michael was following. When Michael had joined him they started away from the party. "My parents bought a condominium in Medicine Hat when my brothers went to college. I live there now. It has two bedrooms; not very handy to the university but it is good."

"You live alone?"

"No, mostly I have a roommate." Michael imagined sharing the condo with Scott. Chatting together like this before they went to bed. They walked on into the night, their legs numbed by the water. Scott talked and Michael listened. They passed the bottle back and forth, each taking smaller sips so the sharing would last. At last the bottle was gone. It seemed a signal they should turn around. Michael stooped and filled the bottle with water and then heaved it as far as he could into the lake. They listened to its lonely splash.

"We call that pulling for the ghosts," Michael explained.

"How's that?"

"Pulling booze; they dammed the Saskatchewan in the sixties making this lake. Old Vimy is out there somewhere under the water."

"No shit? That is trippy." They shared a vision of drowned buildings and ghostly poplars lining the streets. It wasn't like that though. Michael's father told him most of the buildings were moved or dozed and the trees were felled before the cold waters of the Saskatchewan flooded the deserted streets. Still it made a great conversation piece.

"Okay, it's getting cold," Michael conceded.

"Wuss," Scott gave Michael a small shove, "The water's fine."

"As if," Michael protested. He leaned over and splashed Scott's shorts soaking his crotch. Scott yelped. "Not so warm is it?" The loose cotton of his shorts and boxers clung to Scott's hanging cock.

"Bastard," Scott grabbed the front of Michael's loose hoody and jerked him forward. Michael stumbled and managed to regain his feet. He gripped Scott's arms and both young men paused weighing the odds. Scott thought them good. He grinned as he slid a leg behind Michael and forced the younger man back. Michael twisted out of the trap trying to reverse the situation and catch his assailant off balance. They grappled back and forth each trying various holds. The cold lake water churned around them as they giggled and panted. Scott's size and strength told in the end. In a sudden move, Scott slipped a hand between Michael's legs and lifted him out of the water. Michael grabbed frantically at any part of Scott he could and ended poised above the water gripping a shoulder with one hand and the back of Scott's shorts with another.

"No, I'm sorry I splashed you," it spilled out in a panic, "Don't do it Scott; my cell phone." Scott's hand slipped from Michael's thigh to his knee. Michael dropped dangerously close to the black water. He clawed his way back up Scott's arm.

"Good point," Scott conceded. He smiled down at Michael, turned and headed back to the sandy beach. Once he was safely over dry land, Michael resumed his struggle. Scott heaved him up to his chest, one arm hooked around a leg and the other supporting Michael's head and shoulders. He paused a moment and then Michael crashed into the soft sand pinned under Scott's weight. They lay there as Scott tried to catch his breath. When Michael made a half-hearted effort to escape the pin, Scott shifted his hold. They lay there, Scott's arm resting on Michael's crotch as he pulled one leg up to the eighteen-year-olds chest, the other around his shoulder. Scott rested his head in the crook of Michael's arm like a pillow. Down the beach the noise of the party continued but each listened to the other's breath. "You're heavy," Scott said, ending the silence, but Michael thought Scott's strong hands had flipped him about effortlessly. Scott gave Michael a last squeeze and released him.

Scott rearranged himself so he lay on the sand propped on his elbows. He took a handful of sand and let it run through his fingers. Michael lay back with his hands behind his head. He looked up into the infinite and then closed his eyes. Scott's arms brushed against his waist, past over his groin and lightly brushed the sand from Michael's thigh. "Tired?" Scott asked.

"Not yet," Michael replied. "What's the time?"

Scott pulled his own cell phone out and flipped it open. Michael turned his head. Scott's face glowed briefly in the soft light and then he turned the phone face toward Michael. It was past two. Scott rubbed Michael's stomach to get his attention. "We should get back."

As they walked, Michael's thoughts returned to Scott's condo apartment in Medicine Hat. He asked how much the rent might be and that led to questions about food which led to bickering about likes and dislikes as if they were not on a beach but walking down the hall in some supermarket. Scott hated Mac and Cheese because he lived on it his first year and Michael didn't trust Scott to cook a hot dog. Scott thought he would have to be careful coming out of the shower around supper time because Michael had a thing about slashing wieners. That earned Scott a shove and it was hands on again.

Michael was breathless when they reached the fire. Scott hung back while he went to tell Lauren it was time to go. Lauren nodded and Michael tossed a quick farewell to his high school friends before retreating to where Scott waited. Lauren made the rounds.

"Mike, can I have your number?" Scott asked it casually. Michael told him and then realized it would be polite to ask for Scott's.

"Just give me your phone for a second." When Lauren finally came up to Michael, Scott was working on Scott's address book. She gave Michael a lingering kiss, waved to the people by the fire and then slipped between the two young men. She wrapped an arm around their waists.

"Okay boys, take me home." Scott slipped Michael's phone back into his pocket as they started back to the truck.

*** 2:40 AM ***

"Jesus Christ Shelly left without me. Did she ask anyone where I was?" Lauren vented her frustration to the small group. Michael's welcoming smile shifted to polite concern. He had just been talking to Ashley and Acton by the fire while he waited for her to return. In the three young people's absence the party had shifted back to the warmth of Mark's basement. Michael had found Ashley and Acton conversing quietly at the fire with another die hard couple. Ashley had acquired a tattered sleeping bag from someone. She sat propped against her boyfriend's chest with the open bag tucked against her chin. Only her hand poked free with a glass of Yucca Flats.

"We can take you home," Ashley took another sip of her drink.

"Sure," Michael agreed readily enough. He masked his disappointment as best he could. Despite his initial reluctance to come with Ashley, the night had been great and he was not ready to see it end now that they had escaped the high school crowd down by the beach. "So are you two ready to head off now Ashley?"

"No Mikey," Ashley answered in a sing song, "I thought you could take her home and come back for us." Her tone was playful and she addressed him as if he was a little boy requiring unnecessary explanations. She took another sip and snuggled back against Acton.

Michael turned back to Lauren, "Just tell me when you need to go. Do you want to sit out here?" Michael asked Lauren hopefully. Michael patted the ground beside him. "There should be a car blanket in the truck." Lauren looked back at him apologetically and told him she needed to leave. She had a brunch date with her friends Kelly and Shareen at the hotel. "Oh," Michael began furiously strategizing on how to exploit the drive.

They drove in an awkward silence. Michael needed no instructions as he negotiated the moonlit grid roads. The geography was as familiar to him as the short walk to school. The glowing digits on the dashboard read 2:57 AM. Michael chanced glances in Lauren's direction. He and Kara had made love three times in the months leading up to Michael's graduation. The first time had been on Kara's sixteenth birthday. That consummation had been preceded by a year of slow advancements and retreats. Kara kissed Michael readily enough; Michael thought himself adept at it now. Certainly he felt confident enough to initiate a kiss with Lauren. Taking it further would be treacherous territory for Michael. The eighteen-year-old had, admittedly, resorted to some unabashed whining to get Kara out of her pants. Their relationship had some history and emotional weight by the night she allowed him to skin off her jeans. Michael was not experienced enough to fast track his evening with Lauren and while he was prepared to try begging, he doubted she would be moved by it.

"I'm glad I came tonight. I'm glad you were there Lauren. It was great hanging out with you." Michael was short on time. He turned the truck toward the yard light marking the Mercier farm. In an act of desperation he put his hand down on the bench between them.

"Me too Little Keith," Keith was his father's name and a reminder of high school together. At Arthur Curry School you either acquired a denigrating nickname like Goober or the people who liked you called you by your father's name. She accepted his invitation and he felt a soft cool hand cover his. Her fingers explored his and played with the fine hairs. He glanced between them. Her hand made his look large and strong. Lauren's hand travelled further and then it was resting on his thigh. His muscles flexed beneath her touch as his foot pressed down on the accelerator. The hand brushed against his crotch settling briefly on his growing cock. Michael lifted his hand and brushed the back of it against the inviting swell of Lauren's breast. "Stop," she commanded softly. He jerked the offending hand away quickly, his heart beating painfully. "Stop the truck Michael." She squeezed his thigh to encourage him.

The Dodge slowly crept to a halt on the deserted approach to her farm. Michael put the truck in park and checked the mirror before staring at the road illuminated ahead of them. Lauren reached over and turned the engine off and abruptly they were bathed in the summer moonlight. She slid across the bench. His seatbelt sprung free and her hand tugged the folds of his shirt and hoody away from his waist. A cool hand darted in, skated across his body and up to his shoulder blade turning him toward her lips. She was soft and sweet against his dry lips. A hand cradled the side of his head; fingers stroked the nap of his neck encouraging Michael to press harder.

Michael's fingers fumbled at Lauren's blue top. He probed until he reached soft flesh and followed it up to a supple globe. He pulled away from her surprised to discover she was braless. Lauren smiled her amusement and then pressed her lips home. His broad hand tried to encompass her and failed. Kara's flat mounds did not compare to Lauren's fullness. The flesh compressed against his palm. He was conscious of the prominent nipple brushing against his hand. He caught her nub between his fingers and squeezed it. Lauren murmured against his lips so he continued his assault on her breast.

She responded to his touch by bringing her own fingers to the flat muscled pans of his breast. Her nails strummed on his nipple briefly and Michael was shocked by the wave of pleasure. He moaned involuntarily. She seemed unaware of his response and moved on to explore his torso. Her fingers seemed to appreciate his spare frame. Michael self-consciously tightened his abdominal muscles wishing they matched the hard washboard he had felt when he wrestled Scott on the beach. Lauren's curious fingers wanted more. She broke the kiss and began pulling his top off. He helped her and tossed the shirt and hoody on the back bench. Michael was pressed back into the driver's door. He slouched watching her hands move around his body; fingers caressing the damp hair of his arm pits, teasing his nipples into an erection before abandoning them for the hard belly and narrow waist. His muscles quivered at her touch, his breath came in ragged gasps. Small hands framed his narrow waist sliding up and down his sides as if in appreciation of the unbroken sweep of tight skin that extended from his shoulders to his hip bone. She kissed his chest and then his lips.

Her fingers paused at the fine hairs trailing from his navel down past his belt. Michael's cock fought its confines and soaked his underwear. It was centimetres from her fingers struggling to break free. She noticed it and scratched its length through the light fabric. She considered their arrangement critically examining the cramped space and intrusive wheel. Michael's hand glided over her soft inner thigh. His touch distracted her and she bent quickly to kiss him. As their lips resumed their play, Michael's hands explored her suspended breasts. He stroked her soft belly and finally pressed the blade of his hand against the heat of her sex.

Lauren sat back and bumped her head against the cab top, "Sorry," whispered Michael. She laughed off her frustration before attacking his belt. He let her unbuckle it and then the snap and zipper. When she spread his pants wide she hooked his briefs and yanked down. Michael's cock snapped free. The swollen crown lay glistening a centimetre short of his navel. Lauren pulled it away and ran her thumb over the soft skin of his sensitive crown. Her thumb milked free a few clear drops that hung on the small mouth before dripping onto his slowly heaving belly. "Oh God," Michael trembled. Michael flamed with passion at the sensation of Lauren's hands on his exposed flesh. He burned to see her naked body imagining her teardrop breasts, pale in the lingering moonlight, nipples large and inviting. She left off teasing his cock and unsnapped her shorts. His cock jumped when he caught his first glimpse of white panties.

Lauren paused again with a slight frown. She peered through the back window of the cab toward the empty truck bed. "There's a sheet of plywood back there." Michael's father was protective of his truck. It must not have sounded particularly appealing to Lauren. Michael was badly wedged into the driver's side of the cab with one arm tangled in the steering wheel. "I think there is a blanket in the tool box," he added. Lauren smiled agreement and squeezed his cock. She backed off of his legs and Michael struggled back up feeling suddenly awkward, young and ill-prepared. "Lauren," he began hesitantly, "I don't have a condom." An awful confession; Scott, he was sure would have anticipated the need and come prepared.

When Michael and Kara came together he had self-consciously acquired a box of condoms. One had been consumed with autoerotic experimentation; another became an impressive balloon he quickly disposed of when he heard his mother's voice. Michael carried a condom in his wallet for six months before he finally used it. He used two others and then stopped carrying one when Kara announced they were finished. Lauren shrugged and rummaged around in her purse. She surfaced from its mysterious depths with a short tape of lubricated Trojans. Michael hastily shoved them in his pocket. They tip toed barefoot across the gravel to the waiting bed of the truck.