Growing Josh Ch. 04

"Fuck me, Josh. Please, just fuck me."

Josh watched the quivering hunk of man in front of him as he emptied the rest of the lube over his rock hard cock. Josh let out a soft groan as he pressed inside. Trent's tight ass closed around Josh's cockhead, and he paused giving Trent time to adjust. Before he knew what was happening, Trent had slammed back into him, sinking his cock completely into Trent's gut.

"Oh shit!" screamed Trent.

Josh froze, afraid to move until Trent's pain had subsided. Within moments though, Trent was grinding his ass against Josh. Josh gritted his teeth in an effort to restrain himself as the heat from Trent's ass permeated his body. He moved in rhythm, meeting each of Trent's backward thrusts. The union between them blossomed until his hands clamped onto Trent's waist and he started fucking in earnest.

The two moved in unison, neither able to do more than moan in ecstasy with each time Josh lunged forward. Trent squealing with pleasure each time he was impaled. Josh mounted him like a stallion breeding a mare, thrusting and snorting in a race to his climax.

Josh lost himself, everything forgotten but his pleasure. He ripped his cock out and plunged it back in over and over. The wet sound of Trent's ass filled the air around them, their breath coming in gasps. Josh felt himself plunge over the edge, his body wracked with ecstasy as he convulsed and emptied himself into his love. Josh pinned Trent under him, filling him with his seed, breeding him.

He could feel Trent's body shake under him, shivering while his over-stimulated system released like a hair-triggered virgin, which he hadn't been in a very long time. But Trent had never let anyone fuck him. He gave that gift to Josh. Trent collapsed on the grass, taking Josh with him. They held each other as their chest heaved and they tried to recover.

Eventually, the chirp of cicada and the rustle of the cottonwood leaves along the creek came back into being for the two. Josh wrapped his arms around Trent and pulled their naked bodies together. His hands gently danced over Trent's skin, wanting to always remember what Trent had given him.

Josh tilted his head closer and whispered, "I love you."

Trent lay quietly in Josh's arms. Unshed tears built in his eyes as he forced himself to focus on leaving.

<><><><>

Darrin watched Trent as he chewed the food he'd just put in his mouth. He knew something was wrong, but he could not put his finger on it. Trent was in the best mood in months. He'd been playing with Max for hours, joking with Mitch, generally being a happy teenager, which wasn't like Trent at all. It wasn't that he was an unhappy kid, but he was normally much more reserved. His behavior was triggering some nagging feelings in Darrin, something he felt he should recognize.

The evening wound down, and Trent continued to act out of character. Neither of the other two seemed to notice, so Darrin relegated it to his own pessimistic nature. He went to bed, not sharing his unease with Mitch for one of the few times since they had been together. The next day Darrin left early for the office to catch up on the backlog of tasks that had accumulated.

He'd gotten through most of his day, the feeling of unease never relenting. By the time Emma stopped by to chat, he had worked himself into a fine state of nerves. She took one look at Darrin, and her face darkened.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure."

The very fact that Darrin was so direct signaled his distress. He carefully answered her questions in as much detail as possible, not sure what was going on. The grim look that was growing on Emma's face was a clear indication that he'd been right, something was wrong.

"Darrin, where is Trent now?"

"I'm not sure. Home, I guess."

Emma took a deep breath. "Go home. Right now. What you described is one of the signs of someone contemplating suicide."

"Oh, God."

Darrin fled the office, his door left open and everything in disarray. He forced his pickup to top speeds on the rural dirt roads that wound their way to the ranch. Was he too late? How could he have been so stupid to not recognize the signs yesterday? The miles home had never seemed longer. By the time he'd slid his pickup in front of the door, he launched himself before it stopped rolling.

Darrin ran into the house, screaming for someone, anyone, but mostly for Trent. The panic was building when he saw Mitch appear at the bedroom door, a look of concern on his face.

"What's wrong, babe?"

"Where's Trent? I have to find Trent!"

"I don't know. His house, I guess."

Darrin spun and ran out the door. Mitch followed closely behind, even though he didn't know what was happening. Darrin burst into the tiny house without knocking. Scanning the room, his heart sank when he saw Josh sitting on the bed, holding a piece of paper, tears streaming down his face. Josh looked up, made several attempts to talk, and finally got out two words.

"He left."

Darrin felt a split second of relief, which was immediately overwhelmed by a host of other emotions. Mitch walked to Josh, took him in his arms and held him while Darrin lifted the paper from his hand. He held the tear-stained page, reading about Trent's fear of hurting them and the misplaced idea that he was a lightning rod for all things evil. The letter went into great detail, begging them to take care of his horse, and to toss the ball for Max since he was the only one who seemed to find time to do it. The litany went on for two pages. Part apology and part diatribe, it was clear that he was on the street again and that he did not want them looking for him.

Darrin laid the letter back on the bed, sitting beside Josh and wrapping his arms around him as the tears burst from his eyes in a renewed freshet. Mitch looked from one of them to the other and then picked up the letter and read through it. Once he was finished, Darrin heard Mitch let out a deep sigh, and then sat on the other side of Josh, being there while he cried.

Darrin was devastated. He thought Trent understood they considered him family. But Darrin was also old enough to know never was a very long time, and sometimes things change that you could never expect. But you had to survive long enough to come to that point. Deep inside, in a place he'd never share with Josh, he was just relieved he'd only ran. Darrin had never been so happy to be wrong in his entire life.

<><><><>

Sheriff White Cloud let his squad car roll to a stop beside the walking figure, rolling down the passenger window.

"Leaving?" asked the sheriff.

Trent exhaled, wondering what was going to happen now. He stopped, looking down the highway for several beats of his heart before replying.

"Yeah, it's time. Before anyone gets hurt," said Trent with a tint of steel in his voice.

"You know that's not the truth. They're going to be hurt. Josh especially."

"Josh will recover. It's just easier this way, for everyone."

"Everyone? Or easier for you? What happened? Did it get too real?" asked the sheriff.

Trent finally turned his head to look at the sheriff, his last comment hitting too close to home. His anger at the unavoidable situation surfaced, and he snarled back.

"It's me! Why the fuck can't you get it through your head? No amount of redman mumbo jumbo is going to fix me either. Josh can find a normal man, and the other two... well they'll understand they just got a broken one in me."

"I don't see how you're any more broken than anyone else, but I won't argue it with you," said the sheriff. "Where are you going?"

"I dunno. Somewhere east of here. I've done west, wasn't really impressed," said Trent.

"Here."

Trent took the card the sheriff offered, noting that it was Sheriff White Cloud's business card before he looked back at the sheriff with a questioning look.

"Look, I'm not going to help you run, your family here would never forgive me. But when you're ready to come home, call me. I'll come get you."

Trent gave a hollow laugh and held the card back. "Here, take it. I'm not coming back, not soon, not ever. Besides, you wouldn't really drive across a bunch of states to get a lame ass trouble maker."

Sheriff White Cloud pushed Trent's hand back. "Keep it. You'll be back. This country seems like hell on earth to some folks, but for those who listen to it, it's the song that you fall asleep to every night. It's tough country and unforgiving, but it will call you back because nowhere else will you feel at home." The sheriff nodded as Trent sighed and put it in his back pocket.

"And yes, I'd get you home if you call. I might not be your ride the whole way. The thing about cops is they have lots of friends spread out over the country. So I might call in a few favors to get you home, but I would get you back."

"Yeah, well have a good life, Sheriff. I don't think you'll see my scrawny ass around here ever again." Trent backed away from the car, giving an awkward wave as it drove past him, shaking his head at the image of the mystical Indian that White Cloud tried so hard to cultivate.

Trent turned to the east, adjusted his backpack and resumed his journey.

<><><><>

Darrin leaned against the posthole diggers, wiping the sweat from his face as he looked across the parched landscape. The forecast was for rain this afternoon, but Darrin could see nothing on the horizon. The day was unnaturally still, especially for an Oklahoma summer day. The humidity was higher than normal; it felt like Darrin could cut it with a knife. He was concerned about many things, but chief among them was Josh.

In the month or so since Trent had left, Josh had not gotten over the loss. It was as if Trent was a critical part of his being, and without him, Josh would wither away. He rarely came out of the house, sleeping with the sheets that Trent and he had slept on the last night together. Nothing could persuade him to wash them, they could barely get him to wash himself. Josh, who was typically so meticulous with his grooming, didn't care any more. Mitch's threat to drag him outside and hose him off was the only thing that had gotten him out of bed and into the shower.

Darrin had starting going in and washing clothes and keeping food in the refrigerator, although more often than not he had to throw it out a few days later when it spoiled. Mitch had forced Josh to eat dinner with the two of them for the first couple of weeks, but finally gave up and let him eat alone.

Fortunately, Trent had left at the end of the semester, so Josh's grades hadn't suffered too much; mostly the work was already finished. But this had gone on through the entire month of May and now they were into June with no improvement. Darrin kept thinking that Josh would shake himself out of it, but nothing seemed to help. Darrin had even gone to the extreme of bringing his mother and Dr. Koch into it. Neither her coddling nor his belligerent tirade seemed to have any effect on Josh. He simply sat and stared with a distant look in his eyes.

They had tried forcing him to get out of the house and help, making him take care of his animals. But he walked like someone impaled by life and had no desire to find a way to make things better. Today, Darrin had suggested they just let him stay in bed, each time they made him help it felt more and more like beating a puppy, and Darrin couldn't take much more.

He'd tossed in the things he needed to work on the fence, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. Mitch seemed to be of like mind, saddling his horse, telling Darrin he was going to check the west fences.

So Darrin had barely let the weather do more than register a passing note. Turning back, he rammed the diggers back into the sand and shale filled hole, taking his fury out on the earth.

<><><><>

Several hours later, with only a few of the needed posts planted in the hard ground, Darrin sat at the table, slowly eating his meal alone. Mitch was still repairing fence, Darrin had got a text message from him saying he'd be coming in late. He'd made a passing attempt to pull Josh out of bed, to no avail. Not that he was in any mood to deal with the heartbroken young man. He recognized that Josh was hurting, but had no idea how to fix the problem.

Darrin's food was tasteless as he shoved bit after bit into his mouth, mechanically chewing and then swallowing as he had a million times before, oblivious to the happenings around him as the hours trudged by, the incessant drone of the television, the heat-rippled vista beyond the refrigerated air flooded room. Darrin found himself being dragged into the darkness of his emotions.

His consciousness emerged through the quagmire of his mind, a familiar screeching noise pulling him beyond the immediacy of his own problems. Coming to the present, Darrin realized it was a tornado warning blasting on the television. A quick glance outside confirmed a boiling mass of pitch-black clouds screaming toward them. A few moments of listening to the weather reporter and Darrin took off in a sprint. They had a safe room in the house, but it was also their closet, and was largely impassable after the last few weeks.

Hitting Mitch and Josh's numbers, Darrin tried to reach the other two. But neither answered. Darrin rammed the phone in his pocket, racing to the bedroom and frantically clearing the shelter. He threw clothes and boots with reckless disregard, knowing he may only have a few minutes before it arrived. As a pair of tossed boots shattered a mirror, Darrin heard the gust front hit, the house creaking as 70-mile-per-hour gusts began assaulting the house. As Darrin finished his single-minded task to get the shelter operational, he succeeded, and pulled the door shut with a satisfying clang. As Darrin shoved the door back open, he realized he was still alone in the house.

Not knowing where the other two were, he ran toward the door that was the most sheltered from the wind, hoping Mitch had taken shelter somewhere in one of the many arroyos on the ranch, not allowing himself to let the darker thoughts stop him from trying to save Josh.

Rounding the corner, he was hit with the full force of the straight winds, his hat ripped off his head and was soon part of the blowing shrapnel. He struggled against the wind, desperation flooding him as he tried to reach the little house. As he covered the last few steps he saw it, he saw the demon of the southwest, although it took him a heartbeat to realize the scale of this monster. This was no vining funnel from film. This was a half-mile wide behemoth that ate buildings and destroyed lives. As Darrin forced his way inside the tiny house, parts of the barn were being sucked into its maw. Darrin ran to the bedroom, panic setting in, to find an empty bed. He stood a second too long, heard the house creak, and then a west window shattered as a pole from the barn rammed through it like a medieval battering ram.

Knowing his spare time was over, Darrin dove for the bathroom, throwing himself into a corner, covered his head, and for the first time in a very long time, prayed. Not for himself, but for the rest of his missing family.

And then, hell broke loose.

Darrin covered his face and head, making himself as small as possible as debris hit him like bullets. What lasted seconds seemed like hours as the roaring storm passed over the ranch. He could hear wood shattering and metal screeching as their buildings were destroyed. The walls of the bathroom shook as the house disintegrated a bit at a time. Darrin was only dimly aware when the wind took the roof, leaving him exposed.

Then the rain began, sheets of water pouring from the sky. Making it impossible to see anything, but it signaled the passage of the tornado. Darrin eased himself out of the debris piled against him. Pain surrounded him, but he didn't have time for it. Pressing his hands against the sole standing wall, he pushed himself to his feet, and then turned to see the damage.

Fortunately Darrin had stood facing the house, which miraculously seemed largely intact, or at least repairable. Turning, he realized that everything else was a total loss. But now, he needed to find Mitch and Josh.

He'd been surprised that Josh wasn't in the house. He had been certain that he would still be languishing in his bed. But now Darrin knew where he had to be, he'd gone to save the horses, not knowing they had turned them out into a pasture this morning when none of the horses wanted to re-enter their stalls. But Josh wouldn't know that.

His leg aching, Darrin hobbled toward the destroyed barn, afraid of what he'd find.

The piles of refuge, tin, and wood formed a labyrinth through the destroyed structure. But guessing where Josh would be going, Darrin wove his way to Whitehead's box. It had been near the center of the building, and when the roof had collapsed, it had largely crashed on the middle area.

Darrin began digging, throwing lumber left and right, pulling off sheets of metal until his hands were bleeding in a multitude of places. Reaching down he grabbed a large section of intact roof, and heaved it off the floor...to find Josh.

Darrin dropped beside him, noting the pool of blood surrounding his head and the impossible angle of his left femur. Darrin knelt in shock for a moment, not wanting to know, but finally he reached in, and found a pulse.

<><><><>

Mitch had been exhausted by the drama unfolding at the ranch for the last months, angry beyond words that Trent would leave like he had, exhausted by Josh's deep depression and trying to be understanding with his empathetic husband who was working too hard at keeping everyone else together, to the detriment of himself. That morning Mitch had needed a day without drama, where he could make a difference, where he could fix something. So he'd told Darrin his plans, saddled his horse and threw enough snacks into his saddlebags to keep him fed for the day.

He'd gotten frustrated with the boy's horses. They'd went out to the exercise pens without a problem, but then screamed and fought him when he'd tried to put them back in their stalls. After losing a half an hour trying to make them do what they obviously didn't want to do, he had given up. Deciding a day grazing wouldn't hurt any of them, he'd turned them loose in one of the pastures east of the house. His patience was stretched to its limits when Storm decided to choose today to be difficult too. But the topper was when Mitch looked back to find Max trailing behind him. He tried to send the little red and white imp back several times, but finally gave up when he slunk back again. With a sigh, he urged Storm into a lope that soon had them headed to the far side of the ranch.

Having stopped for lunch, Mitch was sitting in the early afternoon shade of a lone cottonwood tree, looking at the clouds building in the southwest. Just a thin sketch on the horizon, Mitch knew with the sultry conditions it was prime setup for a hell-bringer thunderstorm. Knowing he needed to get a move on or he would be riding in drenched on a decidedly unhappy horse, Mitch quickly picked up. He double-checked that he had the tools he needed and swung into the saddle. They started out at a good clip, the urgency of the situation translating to Storm.

Unfortunately, his afternoon was soon swallowed by the routine of repairing fence. Mitch was at first shocked that the cattle hadn't simply walked through the gaping holes, but then realized with everything that had happened over the last few months, some details had been lost. Without realizing it Mitch moved further and further from the security of the ranch, and neglected to track the progress of the storm. As a result, he was taken by surprise when Storm became rebellious as he tried to go further, and even more surprised that Max refused to be separated from the horse and rider by more than a few feet. Storm's tolerance of the dog was also remarkable. All of this flashed through Mitch's mind just as the gust front passed over him picking up leaves and dust and pummeling them with debris.