Montana Ch. 03

I held him a few seconds longer, reveling in how much warmer his skin was than mine, and how good it felt to be curled up around him. I was about to get up and go back to my own bed when he pulled me back down for a second.

"Hey, No. Wait."

I laid back down. "You know I'd do more if I could right?"

I didn't have to ask him what he was talking about. I went to get up. He pulled me back down.

"I would, you know," he said softly. There was regret in his voice. And caring. And maybe love. His hand was tense on my waist.

"You can't bend someone in a way they're not already bent," I said.

I felt him relax. "It's not that I haven't thought about it. And God knows, it's not that you don't deserve it. I know I was joking around at the dinner table, but you're the best guy I ever met. If it were ever in my nature to be able to do more, to have a guy to do more with, I'd do it with you."

"I know," I said softly. And I did. I went to get up. He pulled me back down and spooned his large, warm body around me.

"Come on, Kev. Lemme go." I gave his hand a brief squeeze and went back to my bed.

"Good night, Kev," I said.

"Good night, No."

I tossed and turned for the first few hours, but when his snoring got heavier it comforted me, and I slept solidly.

Chapter 13

I didn't go to Kevin's room the next two nights after we got back. I couldn't explain why. I stroked my own cock at night, hard and fierce, pretending it was Kevin's hand and his mouth. Pretending he wanted to do it, begged me to do it. And for the first time since it started on my birthday, I was resentful that he never did it except for that one time, that he didn't reciprocate, that he didn't want to. It never bothered me before, but after the trip to Spokane there was a splinter in my heart. Even if whatever non-relationship we had was one-sided, it never felt one-sided before, it felt glorious and sunny. Now it felt like a cloudy fall day, or a horse with a thorn in its shoe. Still a beautiful, strong, amazing horse, but with a slight limp and leg that needed to be favored, one that needed to be shied away from, fixed or not looked at too closely.

Kevin acted the same. Making me laugh during the day, cutting vegetables twice as fast as me during the evening, quoting the movie lines if he had seen them before at night.

I couldn't resist going back to his room for my fix. I couldn't wait to feel him in my hand. And it was exactly the same as before. I tucked my head into his armpit, smelling Dial soap, and hay, and horses, and the powerful, great male scent that was all Kevin. The wonderful harness of his cock was so good, so powerful, and so... perfect.

I wanted him inside me. I wanted him behind me. I wanted to stroke him, and stroke him, and stroke him, again and again, so that he would come six or seven times a night. I wanted to hold him through to the morning, and kiss him, and whisper sweet words. But I never did. We spent our few minutes together, and I got up and left.

*

After a while I put the Spokane trip out of my mind, and Kevin and I went back to the way were before.

In the spring, Clay told me he wanted to propose to Sherry and asked me how I felt about that. I told him I felt great, and that was the truth. I thought deep down I might feel a little jealous, that he had something I didn't have—might never have—but I didn't. She was a great girl, and I liked her.

On Memorial Day he proposed, and she said yes. She moved in right after. She took over a lot of the cooking, and some of the planning for the new business, and it was nice having someone else around. We ended up watching a lot more romantic comedies and a lot less horror movies, but other than that, the transition was pretty seamless.

The four of us were standing near the eastern border of our property, where the little creek was, when Kevin asked Sherry, "What kind of wedding do you want?"

"A really, really big one, with everyone we know or have ever met there."

"Figures. Of course," Clay mumbled.

"We could have it right here," Sherry said. "With me in a huge white dress, and tons of white streamers, and all kinds of decorations." She looked at me. "You'd help me figure out all the decorations right? You've probably got a great eye for that, being gay and all."

I jumped back. Holy shit! My face must have registered my immediate 'Hey! I'm not gay!' automatic knee jerk response.

"Sherry!" Clay said sharply.

"What?" she said.

Kevin held a hand out to me, palm up. It was a calm, friendly gesture, not a romantic one. It was a gesture offering courage, simply supporting me, encouraging me to be myself, tell the truth. I took his hand and squeezed it.

"Yeah, I'm gay," I said. I'd never said it out loud before.

"Not all gay guys are great at that stuff, Sherry," Clay said.

"No probably is," Kevin said. "He's got a good artist's eye."

"I'll help you," I said.

"Oh, thanks!" she said and came and hugged me. I felt smothered. "You're a great brother-in-law. You can help me go wedding dress shopping!"

"Ahhh, no. I draw the line at that." Then I smiled. "But Kevin can go with you. He's got a good artist's eye, and he knows what looks good on a woman. And hey, if you have problems getting into it by yourself, I can always zip you up."

She smiled at me. I could tell Kevin hated the idea of dress shopping because he gave me the evil eye over Sherry's head. I smiled at him. Gotcha.

Kevin may have gotten roped into dress shopping, but I got roped into just about everything else. I thought I'd hate it, but Sherry's excitement made it hard to begrudge her anything. Clay was cheerier than I'd seen him since our parents died. We were a pretty damn happy household. Even the weather was agreeing with us.

I didn't think it would be possible that I could get any more into jerking Kevin off at night than I already was. But with a wedding looming, and romance in the air, and the idea that we really, really had to be quiet because who knew if Sherry was as sound a sleeper as Clay, being with Kevin was new and exciting. I pictured we were newlyweds, and it was our first time and his hand was over mine, stroking his hard cock up and down to a frenzied explosion. My smile was huge every night against his neck.

Sunday night when I came into his room at 11:30, I knew immediately something was wrong because he was sitting on the side of his bed with his jeans on, instead of lying under the sheet like usual.

I sat next to him.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I got offered a job in New York."

"What?"

He rushed on, speaking fast. "It's on a big farm managing a hundred guys. The pay is great. The old manager retired suddenly. I—"

"Are you going to take it?"

There was silence for a second.

"Noah, I have to take it."

I tried hard to show no expression, but I'm not sure how successful I was at that. First I had a feeling like a train ran over me, followed by an odd sensation of weightlessness.

"I mean, come on. I have to take it. I've been here three years. It's not like I'm going anywhere here. There's nowhere to move up. It's a family farm. It's not even going to be that much of a farm anymore. We've set up everything for the new business. You've got new staff to help with the horses. It's not like you need me."

I will not cry. I will not cry. I blinked.

"You had to know I wasn't going to stay here forever."

Actually, not really, no.

"This job will give me a chance to learn something new, really get somewhere; it will be a chance to set down some real roots. Have a family. I always wanted children. This job will let me afford to do that."

My entire torso was suddenly cold and made out of thin, thin glass. I heard a tinkling sound. I closed my eyes. I knew what that was. That was the sound of my heart breaking.

"Noah, say something," he whispered.

"You should take it," I said. "You should definitely take it."

He let out his breath in a whoosh. He clapped me on the shoulder. "Thanks, man. I was nervous about telling you. I didn't want you to be upset or anything."

I was suddenly angry, furious. He didn't want me to be upset? I tried to control my face and my breathing. This wasn't about me.

"This will be good for you," I said. He never promised me anything. He never said we were doing anything more than helping each other out. That never changed. He never led me on. Anything else was all me. My dreams. And he had dreams too. And if I loved him, really loved him, then I should be happy for him.

I wasn't.

"Listen, I gotta go," I said.

"Stay," he said.

I shook my head.

Be damned if I'm going to cry in front of him. I might be gay, but I'm still a man.

I went to leave, but I felt his strong arms wrapping themselves around me, grabbing me from behind just before I reached the door. He pulled me into his body.

"Noah," he said softly into my ear. I shook my head.

"What can I say to make this better?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said. "There's nothing you can say to make this better."

"I love you, man. You know that right?"

He said it in the same tone of voice my brother said it.

I elbowed him in the ribs. He just squeezed me tighter.

"Noah, come on, this is my fault. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, man."

If he didn't stop touching me soon I wouldn't just be crushed, or crying, broken, or devastated. I'd be ruined.

"Kev," I said firmly. "Let me go."

He did.

I didn't run out, but I left very, very quickly.

I made it all the way to my room. I closed the door and buried my head in my pillow and let my whole body release the silent, wracking sobs that let out pain like I hadn't felt since my parents died. It wasn't just my heart that was breaking. Everything was breaking.

I never saw this coming.

Never in a million years. I cried until I was a desert, so dehydrated I thought I would turn to dust.

I wanted to stay in bed the next morning. Tell Clay I was sick. He could fucking work the farm without me. But it was pride that made me get up. The cows weren't going to milk themselves, you know.

My eyes were red and swollen, despite the fact I splashed them with enough cold water that they should have looked better. Clay took one look at me and grit his teeth until a throbbing spot popped out in jaw, but he didn't ask me what was wrong, so I gathered Kevin told him that he was leaving.

I skipped breakfast and grabbed my hat.

I couldn't believe it. I felt like I was attending my own funeral.

This is good for Kevin, I told myself. Be happy for him. Be happy. I will not cry; I have no tears left. But apparently I did. I shoveled hay, and I was blinded by the silent weeping that wouldn't stop.

Strong arms wrapped around me from behind.

"Dude," Kevin said.

"I'm happy for you," I said. My voice sounded true.

"Fuckin' liar."

I laughed.

"It's not a big deal. We'll write. You'll come visit."

I shook my head. In all my life I'd had three days off from the farm. The three days I was working, checking out another ranch to learn how to better work our new plan for the farm. I was never going to get to New York.

I turned around, but Kevin was gone.

*

Kevin gave Clay his two week notice, and those two weeks were hell. I existed in a zombie state, giving new meaning to the term 'walking dead'. I did my chores, and ghosted through the necessities, mechanically chewing whatever meal Clay, or Kevin, or Sherry put in front of me at meal times, even though it tasted like cardboard.

If I'd had a huge pole stuck through the center of my heart, re-impaling me with each step and then dragging me down into the ground, it couldn't hurt any worse. The fact I was able to drag myself around the farm and do my chores and not get hurt was a miracle, but not the kind of miracle I needed. Every cell was aching.

For the first week and a half I didn't go back into Kevin's room at night. I couldn't. There was a huge pain in my chest. I would've thought that I was going to have a heart attack, except the pain was on the right, not the left, so I guess it was just a spiritual hole, some place that Kevin had burrowed in, unbeknownst to me, and now was ripped out. The ache was constant, and I couldn't imagine touching his dick while using the other hand to hope that empty space in my soul didn't fall out.

But then a few days before he was supposed to go, I couldn't stop myself. I only had a few more nights, and I didn't want to waste them. I knocked. I heard the same 'come in' that I had grown so used to.

Kevin lifted the edge of the sheet.

Oh, God.

I slid in.

"It's been so many nights I thought maybe you were going to wait until your next birthday before you came back to me," he said.

I chuckled. "You're such an asshole."

"Yeah, but I'm your asshole."

Not anymore.

I didn't jerk him off. I tucked my head into his neck, and put my hand on his hip, and lay there for the seven and half minutes I usually spent with him not saying anything. I just breathed him in. I remember what Clay always said. Focus on gratitude. The skin on the side of his hip was soft. The electricity of him was more alive than anything I'd ever known or could imagine. His smell, and the sound of his breath, and how much warmer he was than me was all familiar, as right as rain. I gave him a squeeze and got up and went back to my room.

I did the same thing the next two nights. In a way it was comforting. In a way it was more painful than anything I'd ever done.

And then it was the last night he'd be spending in our house. Sunday night. I hesitated outside his door. Like I had the very first time on my birthday. The inside of my eyelids felt like they had hundreds of specs of tiny gritty sand particles glued to them. I wanted to say to myself, 'what am I doing here?' and felt like my hand knocked on the door of its own accord. But my whole body wanted in the room. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard my own voice say, 'the heart knows what the heart knows'.

I knocked.

"Come in."

I went in. Kevin lifted the sheet. I slipped in. I didn't even tuck my face into his neck. I just stared. Unseeing. Then Kevin grabbed me, pushed me onto my back, and rolled his heavy weight on top of me. He pinned my wrists so they were on each side of my head. My breath caught.

He pushed his weight on top of me, making himself heavier. I stifled a groan. He had never been on top of me before. I realized with a sharp clarity that we had never had sex, never slept together, never even kissed. I had never been kissed by anyone.

I closed my eyes.

He put his cheek next to mine.

We stayed like that for a minute.

I didn't want to cry, or say anything, but I felt my heart lurch out of my chest like it was screaming for him, and then I was weeping.

Kevin kissed one of the tears off, licked another.

"I'm so, so, sorry, man. I never meant to hurt you. This is all my fault. I never should've let it go that far the first night you came to me. I didn't know. I didn't know what would happen. How'd you feel. How'd I feel."

"Let go of my hands," I finally said.

He did, and I wrapped my arms around him. Then I slid my hands up and down his back. After a few seconds he pushed off me. He turned me away from him and spooned up behind me, one hand lightly around my waist.

I took a few deep breaths and tried to pull myself together. The sun would still come up. The world would go on.

"It's not like I'm going to forget you, you know, dude," Kevin said behind me. "I've lived here for three years."

"You really are an ass," I said. "I didn't think you'd forget me," I said. I sniffled and tried to make light of it. "I'm one of a kind."

I wondered if I should tell Kevin how I felt. But then I thought about it. What was there to say? He knew how I felt.

"You wanna stay here tonight?" Kevin asked.

"No," I said. It sounded like a pouty, blatant lie.

He pet my hair.

"Sleep," he said. And I did.

*

I drove him to the airport in Billings the next morning. He had all his stuff in one large, green army duffle bag. I was about to get out of the truck to walk him in and wait with him, but he stopped me with a hand to the chest.

"Naw," he said. "Just out here, it's better this way."

Oh, God.

"No long drawn out good-byes," he said.

He hugged me tight.

"Good-bye, No," he said.

"Good-bye, Kev."

And then he was gone.

Epilogue

It was as if every sky was gray, and I was more fragile and brittle than I thought possible. But I reminded myself that in many ways I was strong. In some ways, I was more okay after he left than in the two weeks preceding his departure. He didn't come back for Clay and Sherry's wedding. He was too busy getting settled in his new job. He didn't come back for the opening of our new horse farm, which I convinced Clay to call Kevin's Place.

"Bro," was all he said when I told him.

Whenever I thought of that day at the airport I had the same painful tightening in my chest that I did whenever I watched CSI Miami.

I only saw Kevin one time after that. It was fourteen years later, when Kevin and his family took a vacation and came to visit us.

They got out of their rental SUV. I stood on the porch, numb in the August sunshine as two beautiful redheaded girls, about ages 12 and 9 bounded out. A beautiful petite strawberry blonde knockout, with curves in all the right places, followed. And then Kevin got out of the driver's seat. He looked a little different. He had a shaved head, and a goatee, and a tiny bit of a stomach paunch. But his soulful, beautiful eyes were still the same.

Kevin sauntered toward me and opened his arms. I walked into them, and he gave me a huge hug. In that moment the world was totally whole. This is what had shaped me. This is what had given me the final push, letting me grow into all the good and strong things I'd become. It had been less than a year really, between starting to be a man, and really being a man.

Kevin hadn't been my knight. But he had been the one to let me see who I really was, given me the safe place to explore, allowed me to grow into the man I was now—somebody I was pretty damn happy with. In reality, he hadn't been a white knight, I had been my own white knight. But he'd been something more than that. And he still was. My best friend.

"No, let me introduce you to my family. This is my wife, Mary, and my daughters Sydney and Brittney."

My nephew Josh came out, and the girls were immediately entranced.

I gave them all a big smile. "Well come on, you city slickers," I said. "Let me show you the farm."

# # #

Over the years I had other lovers and other boyfriends but nobody ever touched my heart the way Kevin did. It wasn't just that he was funny, smart, hard working, and handsome. It wasn't just that, in addition to a teenager's first crush, I was madly in love with him, truly in love with him, although I was.

It was a once in a lifetime something, that one special something that you feel for someone, that you feel when someone is IT for you. But you know, when you really love someone, you'd do anything for them. You want what's right for them more than you want what's right for you. Not every story in the world is a perfect fairy tale, the real world just isn't like that.

No one will ever measure up to Kevin. Not for me. But that doesn't mean that it's not a happy ending. He's happy. And I'm happy.

I'll find a partner some day. Yeah, it won't be Kevin. And it probably won't even be somebody like Kevin. But there's somebody out there for me. I learned a lot in that almost year I was "with" Kevin, including that I'm strong enough to get through anything, and nice enough to be worth it, to get through.

Someday I'll wake up to my own ripe cherry. But right now I've got Clay, and Sherry, and Josh. And God, and country, and Montana, and Kevin's place. And yeah, Kevin. The most precious, true, hot memories, and current friendship, the sweetest word in the English language, Kevin.