by David Connor
Chapter Six
Frank and Liam were back in the woods by noon the next day, following some raking and trimming at the cemetery. No one in town had died. No graves needed digging. Maybe they would go back and work some more on the apple tree growing wild over the fence, and maybe they wouldn't. They were shirtless again, and this time, they wore no pants, either. Both had stripped down to undershorts, to stay as cool as possible. It was still hot—close to ninety degrees and humid. Summer refused to let go that year, even though the calendar claimed autumn had started on the previous page. Liam wore boxers. Frank, his usual basic white briefs.
Was it suggestive to strip down to them in front of Liam? Possibly. Was Frank hoping something might happen, something between them that would not require touching? Definitely. Conversely, Frank had a feeling the more of his body he showed, the less Liam would be interested in ever touching it. He would have sworn Liam grimaced at the sight of his legs, even though he had already seen the same sort of irregular skin marred by the fire the day before on Frank's torso.
They sat beneath the same oak tree, across from one another, but closer than was deemed the best distance. Perhaps they were even nearer than the day before, because the wide, plump bear that had sat between them was back against a tree by himself, brought along for the afternoon in case someone needed a hug.
"Oak." Frank held up a leaf from the ground.
"Oak."
"Ash." He picked up a second leaf.
"Ash."
"Maple." Frank held up a leaf of that variety next.
"Ma-ple."
"Teacher." Frank pointed to himself.
"F-fank." Liam touched his bare chest and then said, "Liam."
"Liam. What does Liam like to do when not washing dishes, learning about Africa, or eating spaghetti?" Frank considered adding the third thing Liam had done the previous night, beautifully illuminated by a giant harvest moon shining in through gauzy drapes. Frank had watched from the couch through the open bedroom door, and had climaxed himself. "Do you like movies?"
Liam's beautiful eyes rolled up in thought.
"Everyone likes movies. What kind of movies?" Frank asked. "Do you like…?" Frank jumped up and made two finger guns, imitating their sound with his mouth. "Pow! Pow! Pow! Westerns? John Wayne, maybe." Frank walked like a bowlegged cowboy. "Howdy, Pilgrim. Maybe comedy." He purposely tripped and fell upon the big teddy bear.
Frank liked being silly, he'd have to admit. He hadn't had much chance to act that way in quite a long time. The one time he'd tried to tell Vaughn a knock-knock joke, Vaughn had analyzed the punchline to the point where it was no longer the least bit humorous. "I do not understand. Vat do you mean 'orange' I glad?"
"Maybe Liam likes girly romance movies." Frank picked up the bear and looked longingly into its black, button eyes. "I love you, Barry Bear! Don't leave me! Please don't go." He kissed it passionately and then threw it aside. Changing his voice to a tone more feminine, he finished the tragic love story. "But I must, Frank. I must go now!" he said. "We can never… never be together." When Frank broke down in fake, dramatic tears, Liam looked at him as if he were stark raving mad. But then Liam picked up the bear. He had to stretch to reach it; Frank had chucked it that far. After touching its mouth with his finger, Liam put his lips where Frank's had been, and kissed it. "Oh." Frank squirmed.
"K-kiss."
"Yes." Frank swallowed hard. "Kiss. You like movies… where people kiss, I guess. Perhaps it is good I did not act out a stag film from the local pornographic theater Vaughn thinks I do not know about." Frank wiped his face with his palm. "It is so suddenly warm. I mean…" He tried to sound normal. "It's hot. We could go in the water, but I'm too lazy to move."
Liam startled then.
"What is it? Oh. I see." Frank smiled. "He will not hurt you. He's a friend of mine." A daddy longlegs had descended from above, like circus aerialist, coming to rest on Liam's broad chest. "Hello, Mr. Longlegs. Please allow me to introduce you to my new best pal, Liam."
Liam still appeared uncertain. Perhaps Marion had taught him spiders were to be feared.
"I promise you he is harmless," Frank said soothingly. "Quite sweet, in fact. He just wishes to greet you, most probably wondering why all of a sudden I have someone else with me here."
Liam calmed. His eyes crossed as he zeroed in on the daddy longlegs, which crawled up toward his chin. It reached one fragile, crooked arachnid leg out to touch it, and then rose back up his silken string.
"See. So long, Mr. Longlegs. Please come back again."
When Liam picked up a stick, Frank's breath caught. He thought perhaps he was going to strike out at the creature. "W-wood."
"Yes." Frank watched to see what Liam might do with the piece of branch. It came close to Frank's face, which made him wince and shrink away. But the stick barely grazed him, gently touching his chin the way the spider's leg had touched Liam's. Instead of perfect skin and a bit of stubble, it poked at ugly scars from the fire, swirled red, pink, and brown.
"H-hurt?"
"No. Not anymore." Frank touched them. "I was trying to make lunch one day. Alone all of the time, I was solely responsible for my own sustenance. I had to make all my own meals, you dig?" Frank rolled his eyes at the inanity of modern language. "Anyway, the Wonder Bread bag was too close to the stove. The next thing I knew, it was on fire. Then the curtains were on fire, and then the entire kitchen, and eventually the whole house."
"S-scar-y."
"Yes. Quite. I just stood in the middle of it, crying, until Vaughn showed up. The smoke must have made it to the mortuary, I guess." Frank took his hand away. "Ugly."
"H-hand-some Fank."
"No. Handsome Liam. Homely Frank. I've always thought I might resemble Abe Lincoln's ugly little brother, even without the stupid scars."
"No! H-h-and… H-hand-some!"
"Freaky Frank. Freaky Frank."
"No! Fank… h-and-some!" Liam snapped the stick in half. Was it frustration over speaking the words, or the fact that Frank kept arguing the point?
"Fine. If you say so." Frank acquiesced and tried to smile. "Did your mother and father make you learn that, so you could pretend that it's true and not hurt my feelings by what really is?" Frank lowered his gaze.
The stick—a different one, presumably—lightly touched Frank's cheek. "Look," Liam said. "At… mmm-me."
Frank glanced up, and met Liam's gaze. Then he looked at the stick, which had moved from his cheek to his neck, then down his chest, to the waistband of his undershorts. He gulped. Past there, Liam used it to poke at the fly and what grew behind it. "Whoa, Big Guy," Frank said. Their eyes met again, and Liam's widened. Was he asking permission? Frank took his lower lip between his teeth and barely nodded, just in case it was not that at all.
The move was apparently taken as consent. Using the forked end of the twig like two fingers, Liam went back to the elastic with the thin blue-and-yellow stripe. He gently, quite nimbly, pulled it down to reveal a plethora of hair and the top of Frank's swelling organ. He'd eventually expose it fully. Actually, it virtually popped out on its own and pointed straight at Liam. "Good?"
"Damned impressive, I'd say," Frank commented. "The maneuvering… not my genitalia."
"Good."
"If you insist, who am I to argue?" Frank's penis steadily hardened, until it rested flat against his stomach. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment, one he had certainly never imagined. Could anyone—ever—envision precisely what was happening? As Liam tenderly stroked Frank's hardness with the tip of the switch just as rigid, Frank doubted so.
"Good?"
"Oh yes, Liam. Good."
Beyond being pleasured by a birch branch, enjoying the company of someone as wonderful as Liam had grown far out of the realm of reality for Frank. He hadn't even fantasized about anything so sensual in a very, very long time. Involuntarily squirming into the damp, rotting foliage beneath him, he was instantly near ready to climax, but suddenly, the stick moved awa
y.
Frank opened his eyes to see Liam standing. He took down his boxers to reveal his beautiful, long, thick erection. The wild thatch of flaxen curly hair above it shone like precious metal in the dappled sunlight shining through an umbrella of greenery. Frank actually moaned. The tip of Liam's organ was quite red in contrast to the shaft, which was a pale porcelain. As Liam stroked it several times in his fist, his other hand firmly cupping his left, bare buttock, his lower body thrust forward. Every hair on his body caught every glimmer of light as every muscle flexed. Suddenly, Liam's gut tightened. His toes curled. His calf tendons vibrated. He was already just about to—"T-ag. Fank it!"
The words took a moment to register. "Huh?" Even though Liam's intended three syllables took a while to come out, the bombshell had still been somewhat effective. Frank had been expecting ejaculation, not a game of "Catch me."
"You got me, Liam." Frank slid his buttocks back against the coarseness of the bark. He considered rubbing himself to climax instead of running after Liam, who had taken off at a sprint, his cackle echoing off the thick trunks of dozens of majestic trees and the rolling hills behind them. The laughter made Frank more than happy to play along. He started after Liam, at a stumble, at first, since he'd tripped on his undershorts as they fell to his ankles. "You little stinker." Frank grinned ear to ear, giving up a few more seconds as he stepped right out of them, and then pretended to lose his footing again in order to allow his playmate a head start.
It stood to reason Liam would not be as adept in traversing the woods, the ones Frank had called home all his life. He did rather well, though, and the two of them screeched like children or some sort of wild beasts as they repeated the chase from the day before, this time completely naked and totally aroused.
Liam had the most beautiful back, broad at the top, narrow at the waist, with sweat and a smattering of fuzz in the small of it that sparkled as rays of light sporadically fell upon it. His rear end, damp with perspiration, round and muscular from rehabilitation perhaps, moved up and down and also opened and closed as Liam slowed down, sped up, bent over and stood up straight.
Frank suddenly realized he had no desire to catch him. Following behind was the most amazing vantage point he could imagine. Especially seeing as he couldn't touch Liam there—or anywhere else.
Frank frowned.
But Liam eventually came to a stop. He stood behind a large trunked tree—his front to it—and raised his arms above his head. It was a lousy hiding spot, Frank thought, but he quickly realized Liam wasn't interested in being obscured. As he pressed himself into the rough bark, rubbed himself against it, the expression on his face was not one of play, but of pleasure. Frank moved closer and took the same stance on the other side, the roundness of a hundred-year-old poplar between them, against their naked, excited bodies.
"I want you to remember something, son. Liam is older than he seems. An adult. Though you will be his teacher at first, that is temporary. Soon you will be equals in every way. Already you are both grown men."
Frank had wondered if the bark would scratch too much. How could it not? It had to hurt, and though it did, he pressed his stiff, tender penis into it anyway, the scratchiness adding to the sensuality. When he folded his erection upward with his hand, and then rubbed his entire lower half against the ancient skin, grinding and humping the rutted texture with full-on titillated abandon, it felt even better. Liam had taught him something else. As long as Frank had been wandering in and about these trees, he had never thought of one as a sexual companion. How odd the notion sounded, but there was no denying the ecstasy it brought, and Frank was quite certain the tree didn't mind.
Liam thrust about even more wildly than he. If Frank didn't know what he was doing, he might think it an attack rather than indulgence. Liam's raucous, erotic utterings egged Frank on. Frank peeked around as the most intense sounds yet indicated Liam was ready to release. Liam used his hands then, spraying the grayish green tree front with pure white heat, his ejaculation accompanied by several long grunts and hard breaths. Frank came immediately after. His semen ran down the side of the trunk like maple sap in spring. Liam was at his side by then, panting heavily, watching it flow. "Not too close," Frank warned.
"Fuck." Liam smiled, and Frank threw his head back and laughed.
"That is a word for it, I suppose."
When Liam put his finger to the sexual secretions deposited onto the bark, Frank leapt back to add a safer buffer of distance. He licked his lips as Liam collected a drop, like he'd watched Frank do with the juice of the orange. When Liam took it from his fingertip, "Good, Fank," he said.
"Yes," Frank replied. Or was it?
They cleaned up with their shirts. Wearing them again that day had always been unlikely anyway. Back beneath the towering shade they had marked with their essence, still naked, they held hands. It had been Liam's idea. "Wood," he had said, taking one end of a short stick, offering the other to Frank. But Frank had picked up a longer one.
"Better safe," he had said, and although Liam had frowned, he accepted the offer.
Now Frank's inner voice rebuked him, the proverbial devil and angel had a conversation in his mind.
"Well, that can certainly never happen again! Your euphoria and the overwhelming provocation gone, I suggest you better come to your senses, dipstick! You can't encourage such things!"
"Why not?" the devil answered, or was it the angel? "It's not like he has real feelings for you. He's a man with urges. You were there. A body. A penis. That's all it was. Liam could never be attracted to you. Surely you are cognizant of that. He certainly isn't in love with you. Vaughn and Marion probably told him he should be—or maybe even that he once was. For now, he's going along with that. In time, though, he'll make up his own mind, and he'll look for someone less strange, less ugly."
But Liam was staring at him, all droopy-eyed and loving, like Frank's cat used to, with that sort of squint that signified affection.
"I'd never done that with anyone before," Frank said aloud. "How about you?"
Liam didn't answer. It was a stupid question, Frank figured. If Liam was close to thirty years old, like Vaughn claimed, of course he'd had sex. Real sex, not just vicarious tree sex.
"I only ever kissed one guy. One guy… one time," Frank revealed.
"Kiss." Liam made the sound.
"Yeah."
"Kiss." He did it again—the sound. "Kiss," he said it again too.
"Oh." Frank smacked his lips. Apparently Liam had remembered people kissed after sex. "Kiss."
"Kiss Fank." Liam smacked his.
"Kiss Liam." Frank did it again too, quite half-heartedly. The melancholia of the hopeless situation overtook all other emotion.
"Fank… sad?"
"A little." He didn't want to tell Liam why. "I was just remembering a friend… a friend who died. The man I kissed." And suddenly Frank was thinking about Renny. "Get lost for good, faggot." He thought of Renny's words, and then said them. "'Get lost for good'. Renny and I were best friends once. We kissed. And those were his last words to me. If he only knew, huh?" Frank said to Liam.
"Leave him alone Lawrence. Dickie! Enough!"
"Melissa tried to stick up for me. She was always so nice. I wish you could have known her." They were lying down now, parallel to one another, with enough safe space in between. Liam's head was at Frank's ankles and vice versa. "We'd sat side by side on the swings, side by side in every class, and side by side on the yearly field trip bus to New York City. Side by side, like we are now, even after the scars. The last time, Renny fell asleep on my shoulder partway through the two-hour ride back. I felt all warm and happy inside, and I can still remember how his hair smelled like Johnson's Baby Shampoo and was soft against my cheek. Within moments, warm boiled over into panicked. I got an erection." Frank whispered the word, as if the jays or the gnats would care he had been aroused on a school bus.
"I wriggled and shifted in my seat so much because of it, Renny soon awakened. 'Sorry, man
,' he said, obviously embarrassed by the unplanned intimacy. He scooted over, Liam, and rested his head against the window to continue his nap. Oh, how I missed him. I can still feel how much. It wasn't long afterwards, just about the same time I realized the true reason for my arousal wasn't just the bumpy road under the tires, that Renny turned mean on me. I certainly never expressed out loud how my feelings had suddenly become confusing. Someone else had teased Renny about being so close to Freaky Frank, maybe. That's what probably happened. I bet anything that's what made Renny change. It's the only explanation I can come up with. The only one he could, when he and I talked about that bus ride last October… right before he kissed me."
Frank didn't look up at Liam. He ignored the noises he was making. In fact, they barely registered. "I didn't know all that at the time, though, not when we were barely on the precipice of manhood, when Renny started being so cruel. He was the only true friend I'd had once Melissa left town. The only constant. The only affection, even at the most basic levels someone our age could muster. For a great deal of time, Renny had ignored the things everyone else found so repulsive about me. He accepted them—or looked past them—a very long time. Once he gave in, however, he made up for lost time, right up until the night he died."
"Freaky Frank. Freaky Frank. Freaky four-eyed faggot Frank."
"I had always thought knowing why would take away the pain, but it really didn't. I suppose I should find some solace in knowing Renny was just as confused, just as conflicted as was I, fighting the same naturalness of our attraction against what society would think of it. It was yet another thing we could never understand as boys, but as a man, I grasped the ambivalences, though I eventually declared it purely ignorant and not worth my time. Fat lot of good it did once I had, but that's another story. How difficult it is ignoring something so innate, how exasperating it can be trying to change it. I suppose I should pity him. I suppose I should forgive him." Frank looked to the heavens and then at Liam, who wore an expression hard to read. It suddenly dawned on Frank that he might be making Liam jealous. "You good?"
