The Prayer Waltz

by K. Z. Snow

  Evan was still trying to apologize and explain. I put a hand to his face, and his voice went quiet. Suddenly I felt like a kid again, reaching toward the sky, pretending I could tilt the moon just by running a finger around its outline or touching the tips of its horn. Now, finally, I made it happen.

  “I understand,” I said. “And I’m sorry.”

  My heart beat twice before Evan’s head lowered. The first thing I felt was the cold spot at the end of his nose. The second was a scratch of stubble and the tickly brush of his hair against my forehead. And then I felt his lips on mine.

  “It started with a kiss….”

  The contact was tender and tentative at first—sweet, soft flexions that tested my willingness. I sensed Frank’s influence in the kisses but immediately pushed the intrusion aside. This was for us, Steve and Evan. This was for the men he’d left behind.

  I kissed him back hungrily, and soon our tongues were thrusting and our lips were sliding and crushing and I felt more purely alive than I’d felt in eight dismal months.

  “Does this seem wrong to you?” Evan asked, his breath hot against my mouth.

  “No. It seems perfectly right. Now shut up.”

  We kissed again, deeper and wetter. Evan’s jacket was open, and I fondled his chest. I could feel his nipples, even through his sweater and the undershirt that likely stretched beneath it. Our quavering moans rose and mingled.

  The truck windows steamed to opacity. I was certainly steamed up. My cock twitched, dense and stiff and sullen in that restrictive groove between pelvis and thigh. If I touched Evan below the waist, I’d probably leave a mess in my new Hanes boxer briefs.

  “We have to stop,” Evan managed to say, the words clipped and breathy.

  “Why? You have a nice truck, very well maintained. The heater even works.” Yeah, like we needed a heater. And yeah, like I knew shit about motor vehicles, except how to drive some of them. I just wanted to keep going.

  Evan did a rapid eye-roll and seamed his reddened lips. “I don’t care how nice it is. We’re not in high school. I don’t want another hand job in a truck cab.”

  I grinned. “Who said you were going to get a hand job?”

  Shaking his head, Evan reached forward and turned on the ignition. “We should go. Seriously. We need to take care of some business.”

  “What business?” At the moment, I was sick of talking and thinking. I needed a respite from talking and thinking. This was what I wanted.

  “The business we started when I saw you smiling at me from that church pew.”

  I smiled again.

  Evan fell back against the seat and looked at me. He put a hand on the side of my face and gently ran a thumb over my lips. “Come home with me, Steve. Please.”

  “Do you more-than-kind-of like me yet?”

  “I’m getting there.” His eyes were smiling.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter Seven

  WE DIDN’T talk much on the way to Evan’s house, just languidly rubbed each other’s thigh and used our fingertips to tease more sensitive areas.

  Evan’s crotch was a pocket of concentrated heat. Mine was certainly the same. Every time we grazed each other’s cock—and a light brush was all we allowed ourselves—desire filled the cab like a pyroclastic cloud.

  I didn’t notice much of anything as we pulled up to Evan’s place, except that it was a log structure, he didn’t bother parking in the garage, and we were walking funny.

  He whipped me around as soon as we were inside, and we came together like two strips of Velcro. Our kisses were wild, almost desperate. I even kissed Evan’s chin, sanding my lips and tongue on his stubble as I sought out the dimple. We gripped each other’s ass and pushed our rigid pricks together.

  “You’re gonna make me come,” I said tightly.

  “Damn right I’m gonna make you come.” He kissed me again.

  I didn’t notice much of anything as we tore at each other’s clothes and Evan steered me through the living room and down a hallway. The house was neat. I glimpsed logging memorabilia. We could barely walk.

  Our trail of shed clothing and breathless grunts ended at a large bed. Still intertwined, we tumbled on top of the covers. Evan had hit a switch somewhere that turned on the nightstand lamps. I rolled on top of him; he rolled on top of me. Even though I was naked, I was feverishly warm, and the feel of Evan’s skin pressing and sliding against mine made me dizzy with lust.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, one hand running over my turgid cock as the other forked through my hair. “You and those big goddamn blue eyes. I want to suck you. I want to fuck you. I want to do everything to you.”

  “Ditto.”

  We changed positions again, and I scrabbled over the bunching, shifting muscles of Evan’s sweat-misted body. His chest surpassed my porniest fantasies—pronounced pecs, taut nipples, hair exactly as I’d imagined it to be. I began lapping at it, preening the silky fur with my tongue, using my mouth and fingers to stimulate those coppery-rose peaks. Evan caressed my head and neck and back as he groaned and writhed beneath me. His precum slicked my thigh.

  Suddenly he barked “Stop!” and grasped my head to still it. “I’ll jizz all over myself.” He looked into my eyes. “Let me be inside of you. Please.”

  Although I’d topped with Frank, I was more than willing to take in dick when I was excited enough. And I was probably more excited that evening than I’d been in my life.

  “Do it.”

  Evan scrambled to one of the nightstands. I lay with my head on a plump pillow, waiting, holding the base of my prick to keep it pointing at the ceiling. During this short break, I admired the lines of Evan’s body, the smoothly interlocked swells of muscle, flexing delicately as he went through his preparations. He had a spray of freckles across his shoulders, and I found them more adorable than the dimple in his chin. His thick cock twitched as he sheathed it and bobbed when he moved.

  He was eager. I saw it, felt it. Another current of arousal shimmied through my groin. I’d never been fucked by such a powerful-looking man. And damn, did I want it.

  Evan knelt between my legs. “This way?”

  “Yes. I want to look at you.”

  “I want to look at you too. You wanna mount me?”

  “No,” I said. “I want you in control.”

  I let my spread, bent legs rest on his thighs. Lips parted and chest pumping, he slowly slid one thumb beneath the head of my cock and down the dense ridge on its underside.

  “Perfect,” he murmured. “Like the rest of you.”

  Tremulous sounds drifted from my throat as the caress continued—around the crown, down the shaft.

  “Not too much,” I forced out. “Not until you’re ready.” I was at the hair-trigger point.

  Evan pulled me a bit farther up his lap and lubed me with gentle, massaging fingers. My hole responded with spasmodic contractions. He swirled some of the oil over my sac, his fingers following the contours of my nuts. Then, slowly, he rocked his dick into me.

  I shivered, tensed for a split second, and relaxed. The goodness of the fuck began to build. Evan held my ass and worked deeper, his thrusts smooth and firm. I stroked myself with one hand, flung the other carelessly over my head.

  “You look so fucking inviting,” Evan said, pushing harder on the last word.

  I knew I was making faces, but I couldn’t stop doing it any more than I could stop adding vowels to the alphabet. Evan didn’t look or sound too sane himself. I raised my legs and pulled them back, inviting deeper penetration. Evan lifted himself to match the movement. Soon he was gripping my ankles. Up my legs went.

  “I am so being fucked!” I shouted, mindlessly pulling at my dick.

  Evan’s hips swung forward. The sudden fullness was exquisite.

  “Pack me, Evan!”

  “Steve, for chrissake, don’t make me laugh.”

  I whimpered as he found the perfect rhythm. “I love cock.”

  Evan snarled some
thing that ended in “honey” or “funny.” Then the masked invader found the weak spot in my tunnel wall.

  “Uhhh….” I pushed my pelvis forward. My eyes rolled up.

  And it hit—a walloping explosion of pleasure deep in my abdomen, its waves radiating in every direction. My cock pulsed; my ass seemed to quiver inside. I vaguely felt the bed shuddering beneath me.

  “Take it,” Evan said in a distant, animal voice. His body stiffened as his face went slack.

  For some blissful, blinding moments we were frozen in time, the only movement from either of us the distinct throbbing of our cocks and faint quaking of our limbs. Then my legs lowered. I let them fall bonelessly on either side of Evan’s hips. He wilted forward.

  “Why does it have to end?” I whispered. My hand was streaked with cum. I felt more of it chilling on my belly, somewhere in the vicinity of my pubic hair.

  Panting, Evan lazily touched the small puddles of cream. “Ask Mother Nature.”

  “Did you call me ‘honey’?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll pretend you did.”

  Evan smiled. I imagined a spot of spunk in his chin dimple. Some day…

  He peeled off his condom, bumbled off the bed, and briefly disappeared into another room. I heard a toilet flush, heard water running. When he returned, he tossed a damp washcloth at me, turned off the lamps, and crawled beneath the covers.

  “Just drop it on the floor after you wipe,” he said. “Then get under here. I want to hold you.”

  Done.

  We folded together, warm and spent and content.

  “Do you have any extra toothbrushes?” I asked.

  “Why? You got chest hair in your teeth?”

  “I only licked your chest,” I said.

  “Think again, Hot Stuff. You were biting at it.”

  Frowning, I lifted my head. “Was I?”

  “Mm-hm. When you weren’t hollering like a lunatic.”

  Evan cupped the back of my head and urged it downward. He kissed me with a hint of passion, giving me some tongue. The spangle of excitement in my groin surprised me. It was still muted enough to ignore, but I didn’t usually respond that way to a kiss so soon after a major orgasm.

  “Did you mind?” I asked, brushing a hand from one of his nipples to the other.

  Evan squirmed a little, pushing into my touch. “No.”

  “I’ll still have to brush my teeth,” I said, loving how we responded to each other. “Tomorrow morning I’ll have to. If you invite me to spend the night.”

  “I didn’t think an invitation was necessary.” He laid a hand over my hand, trapping it against his chest. He grew more serious. “That was fantastic, Steven. Thank you.”

  Thank you? What a guy. “You’re welcome. It goes both ways, you know.”

  Evan craned his neck to kiss my forehead. He dropped his head to the pillow and was silent for a moment. “What did the ‘why’ mean when we got in the truck earlier? You kept asking, ‘Why? Why?’”

  As I wondered about this, I ran my fingertips through the coarse silk of his chest hair—gently this time. “All kinds of things, I guess. Why do people despise us—I’ve never understood that one—and why did I come to Prism Falls, why was Frank forced to choose between his calling and his cock, why did I ever get involved with him, why did he keep so much from me and make me start doubting him.”

  “How do you know he kept things from you?” Evan asked curiously. “How exactly did you doubt him?”

  The subject wasn’t easy for me to talk about. Although I was out of mourning, the tremors left by Frank’s life and death continued to rumble through my psyche. “I never knew exactly what he did when we weren’t together,” I said. “I knew he taught at a community college. I knew he always had an answer when I asked what he’d been up to, but….”

  “You didn’t know if he was telling the truth?”

  “Not the whole truth. We were together for just under four years, but it always seemed like a big part of Frank and his life were closed off to me. I’m not even sure he truly loved me.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Although the notion had crossed my mind before now, this was the first time I’d given it any credence. “Yeah, I am,” I said with some wonder. “I think he believed he loved me whenever he said it, but I’m not sure he carried that love around with him, day in and day out.” I lifted my head to look into Evan’s face. “Know what I mean?”

  He touched my cheek. “I think I do. It was hard to get a fix on him. Frank treated me like gold when we were together, but there were plenty of other times he just sort of… looked through me. Like he was miles away.”

  I knew that look. I knew it well. Whenever I saw it on Frank and asked if he had something on his mind, he’d just smile and give me some vague reply.

  “Where did you meet, anyway?” Evan asked.

  “At a comedy club. I was between boyfriends, so I went there with a girl pal, Andrea. The place was crowded. A couple dozen people were standing. Andi met Frank at the bar, found out his date had stood him up, and invited him to sit at our table. Halfway through the show, our legs got friendly beneath the table. Done deal. How long were you seeing him?”

  Evan ran a fingertip along my left eyebrow and down my cheek. “About eight months. Then he lost interest for some reason. And three months later he left Prism Falls.”

  “You never got an explanation for his loss of interest?”

  “No. He just started acting like nothing had ever happened between us. I didn’t force the issue. I wasn’t feeling real good about the whole thing anyway.”

  “Could be he sensed that.”

  “Could be.”

  I dropped my head to the pillow but kept facing Evan, my hand resting on the solid curve of his biceps. “I’m beginning to realize how much of a mystery he was to me. But I was never a mystery to him. I was a goddamn open book. Isn’t that pathetic?”

  Evan regarded me. His smile was reflective. “No. Opening your heart is never pathetic.”

  The assertion touched me. I lifted my head far enough to kiss his shoulder. “I think you’re a big sap, Evan.”

  “Maybe I’ve cut down too many pine trees.”

  I grimaced. “Oh God, that was bad.”

  He chuckled. “I know.”

  “Then why’d you say it?”

  “Because I didn’t want to say fuck you.”

  “Why? Do you like me now?”

  Evan answered by cupping my dozy cock. “Duh.”

  I laughed.

  “I’m a sucker for a man who licks my chest. Just keep doing it. Maybe more hair will grow.”

  “Shit, Evan. I’d suffocate.”

  He rolled me into his arms. I think we fell asleep snickering.

  There was no room for Frank between us.

  Chapter Eight

  Hey Mogie.

  Guess what? I met somebody I really like, more than as a friend. Can you believe it?

  Now here’s where your old dad has to tell you something, and I wish I’d done it sooner because maybe it would of helped you out some if I had been honest with you.

  I’ve always liked guys too Mogie. Did you ever suspect that? I think maybe you did, just never said anything because you were waiting for me to say something. So its a man I’m talking about, not a girl. That’s one of the reasons I couldn’t make it work with your mom, but there were many other reasons also, which I’m sure your aware of.

  Moge it kind of scares me to like this guy so much. I know you know what I mean. For one thing he isn’t from P. Falls, just visiting, and for another thing nobody around here knows what I’m about and it kind of freaks me out to think how they’d react if they knew. I bet you felt the same way.

  Can we still help each other out you think? We used to lean on each other all the time Buddy, it meant the world to me, and now I don’t know how we can do that. I try to help you with my prayers and such even tho I don’t understand the heaven or religion
thing, and I know your around me in some way, which is why I write to you. But is it doing any good? I don’t know. We’ll keep working on it tho.

  Say hi to Frank for me. Tell him I’ll mention him in my prayers. And please tell him not to be mad. He’ll know what I mean.

  Love you and miss you, give Smokey some pets for me.

  Dad

  I FINALLY noticed the bedroom when I awoke. It was simple and masculine, with sturdy cherrywood furniture, brass lamps on the nightstands, and a brown comforter over plaid flannel sheets on the bed. I also noticed Evan wasn’t in the bed.

  Peering at the bathroom door, I called out his name.

  No response.

  I felt let down. It would’ve been a singular treat to have him there, greeting my wake-up wood. I consolingly ran a hand over it.

  “Don’t be selfish,” I chided, dragging my naked ass out of bed. I hadn’t exactly been neglected.

  Evan had already roused me in the middle of the night with his mouth, which had hijacked my cock. I recalled having done more vocal exercises, weak and drowsy ones, as he soft-sucked me back into peaceful oblivion. Not even a rocking chair and a lullaby could beat a blowjob.

  Yawning, I ambled toward the master bath. Framed photos on the higher of the room’s two dressers caught my attention. I detoured over to them.

  Most featured a boy at different stages of his life. Evan’s son, of course. The display transfixed me.

  Pictures of Scott alone, with an older couple, with his dad, with friends, with teammates. I smiled when I noticed the resemblance between him and Evan. Yeah, he’d been a handsome kid. In one photo, Scott and another lean-limbed boy stood with their arms around each other’s waist, beaming into the camera. They were wearing swim shorts. Scott held a volleyball. I put their ages at around fifteen.

  Something about the photo struck me. Here were two teenage boys, just growing into their looks, solidifying their tastes and affinities, identifying their needs… and immeasurably content to be with each other.