Something Like Thunder

by Jay Bell

  Rebecca grimaced. “I don’t blame you.”

  “Yeah. That one stuck with me. Makes me wonder where exactly I come from. To be totally honest, I don’t feel like I know who I am anymore.”

  Rebecca cocked her head. “You’re the same person you were before you found out the truth.”

  “Am I? I have family I’ve never met. My real dad probably had a mental illness, and at least one member of his family is a criminal of the worst variety. What does that make me?”

  “Remember my Aunt Teresa? The one with the huge collection of clowns? Clown paintings, clown plates, clown figurines, and that terrifying mannequin head that she bought a wig and makeup for to make it—come on, say it with me now.”

  “A clown,” Nathaniel droned with a wry smile. “What’s your point?”

  “That I don’t like clowns. She’s family, but we have jack squat in common. Hell, neither of my parents like to read, which drives me bonkers. I don’t know where I get that from, and I don’t worry about it because they aren’t my identity. I appreciate that they donated their genes to me, but I’m my own person.”

  Nathaniel frowned. Then he nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I still wish I had some way of connecting with him, just to see what kind of man he really was.”

  “Which is why we’re here.” She held up the hair clippers. “You sure about this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “A mohawk? Really?”

  “Yes!”

  Rebecca shrugged. “Take off your shirt.”

  “I bet you’ve been dying to say that.”

  She held up the clippers like they were a weapon, prompting him to hastily apologize, even though taking off his shirt really did seem to improve her mood. Then he sat on the toilet seat so she would have an easier time buzzing the sides of his head. He often kept his hair short, so he wasn’t too worried about the procedure. The top was long enough that, once she trimmed it with scissors, he would have a decent strip of hair sticking up in the middle.

  He was eager for her to finish, feeling like this really was some sort of spell, like Victor’s ghostly image would appear in the mirror the second they were done.

  “There you go,” Rebecca said, setting aside the scissors and brushing the shorn hair off his shoulders.

  He stood to consult the mirror. He looked doofy. Nothing about him was punky enough to compliment this style. His hair wasn’t even the right color. His eyes darted to the photo resting on the counter—Victor holding his son’s hand distractedly. Then he returned his attention to the mirror.

  “You’re definitely right. This isn’t who I am. Shave off the rest.”

  Rebecca nodded approvingly. She grabbed the clippers and waved them as if some magic had indeed been worked. Then she turned them on and gestured at the toilet.

  “Your throne awaits!”

  * * * * *

  “What happened to your hair?” Caesar was sitting on the loveseat in his room. After staring a moment, he tossed aside the video game controller and stood. “It looked better before.”

  “You’ll learn to like it.” Nathaniel grunted. He grabbed Caesar’s hand and rubbed the palm against the short bristles of his scalp. The goose bumps travelling down Caesar’s arm were in plain sight. “You already like it.”

  “Okay, maybe I do.” Caesar yanked away his hand and hurried to the bedroom door, which could only mean one thing.

  “Don’t,” Nathaniel said. “Locking the door is too obvious. It isn’t safe.”

  “It’s a lot safer than my parents walking in on us,” Caesar said. “Take off your clothes.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Nathaniel hissed. “I’m serious. We need to be careful!”

  Caesar appeared dejected. “Then how are we going to… You know.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that lately.”

  “Yeah, so have I!”

  “Not like that.” Nathaniel reconsidered. “Okay, like that too. But I’ve also been trying to figure out how we can do it without getting caught.”

  “I’m all ears,” Caesar said.

  Nathaniel nodded to the bulge in his pants. “You’re all something. Remember what we did on the drive back down here?”

  “Yeah. Fondly.”

  Nathaniel smirked. “Well…”

  Caesar managed to focus. “That’s not risky?”

  “Not if we find a country road.”

  “This is Houston, not Warrensburg.”

  “Fine,” Nathaniel said. “Maybe we should take up hiking. The Wilderness Park has lots of secluded trails. Right?”

  “That it does,” Caesar said. “So we can only do it outside from now on? You’re making me feel trashy.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, I like it!”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “You’re a bad influence on me. I used to worry the opposite was true, but of the two of us, I’m pretty sure you’re the most depraved.”

  Caesar grinned shamelessly. “You have no idea.”

  * * * * *

  As much fun as they had turning the great outdoors into their own sexual paradise, they both became more frustrated as the weeks rolled on. Caesar snuck into the shower with Nathaniel once, an especially dangerous move considering how bathroom time in the morning was strictly scheduled. Nathaniel had lectured him over that, but only after giving in. He broke his own rules a few nights later by creeping down the hall to Caesar’s room. Neither of these events gave them much satisfaction, since they still rushed through the process, trying to remain silent all the while.

  They both wanted more. Without freedom and security, they didn’t feel comfortable exploring new possibilities, despite discussing them often. They craved more than just a hurried blow job in the woods. A hotel would be ideal, but neither of them was old enough to reserve a room. Nathaniel was having dinner with his mother one night, toying with the idea of asking her to get one for them, when she inadvertently provided a solution.

  “Your father has a business trip in Quebec this weekend,” Star said. “I’m going with him. Maybe I can escape this heat for a few days.” When she saw his longing expression, she misinterpreted it. “Would you like to come with us? You haven’t seen your father since—”

  “No,” Nathaniel said. “I was wishing I could have the house to myself. Well, not completely to myself.”

  Realization made his mother’s eyes light up. “You mean Caesar? Hoping for a romantic getaway of your own?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, why not?”

  “You know why.”

  His mother leaned forward. “I told you that Dwight hasn’t been home for weeks. He’s really serious about this new girl. He’s living with her now.”

  Nathaniel perked up. “Really?”

  “Yes! Come home for the weekend.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Come home for good.”

  “Dwight’s relationships never last.”

  “Then I’ll tell him he needs to find his own place. He’s too old to be mooching off us. Please. Just consider it. I miss you.”

  Nathaniel couldn’t make any promises, but he looked forward to a trial run. His plan was simple. He asked permission to take Caesar camping, which Mr. Hubbard readily agreed to. On Friday night, Nathaniel went to the house to make preparations and to make sure it truly was safe. His mother hadn’t deceived him. He saw no sign of Dwight.

  The next morning, after sleeping in, they loaded up his car with a tent, sleeping bags, and even a cooler of food, just for appearances.

  “It’s sort of ironic,” Caesar said. “We really could just go camping. That would give us plenty of privacy.”

  “But not a nice comfy bed,” Nathaniel said. “Besides, as much as you like to talk, we’d probably attract every park ranger in the county.”

  “Communication is crucial to every relationship,” Caesar said solemnly.

  As if to prove his point, Caesar talked during the entire way to the house. He only quieted down once they pulled in the driveway. This probably
felt like another revelation to him, finally getting to see Nathaniel’s former home.

  Nathaniel led the way to the front door, unlocking it and letting it swing open. He didn’t enter yet. Not right away. Instead he swept Caesar off his feet—literally—and carried him over the threshold.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Courtney,” he said. “We just got married. The reception was great, but we’re both eager to escape the guests and start our honeymoon.”

  Caesar laughed. “What are you talking about?”

  Nathaniel set him down. “This is your house now. Our house. For the weekend, anyway.”

  “We’re playing house?”

  “Yup.”

  Caesar grinned. “I like it.”

  “I hope so. Now go cook me dinner.”

  “You’re living in the past,” Caesar said, shaking his head. “I might be the wife, but I’m also the breadwinner. I work long hours too, so you best be ready to rub my feet.”

  “Fine, I’ll be the househusband. I already cleaned the place for you.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, since his mother kept the place tidy. He had changed the sheets in his parents’ bedroom and whipped up a pasta sauce that was a little salty, but he hoped a heaping helping of cheese would disguise that.

  He followed Caesar as he explored the house, watching him soak up every detail. Family photos interested him the most, at least until they reached the master bedroom.

  Caesar bounced onto the bed with a naughty smile. “Ready for round one?”

  “I thought we’d spend the day together first. Let the anticipation build.”

  “And I thought we’d do it twelve times. At least.”

  “Have fun,” Nathaniel said, walking out of the room.

  Caesar followed, looking pouty, but he cheered up when they entered Nathaniel’s old bedroom. Then he got hyper, examining everything, asking a million questions, and even opening drawers and the closet door without permission. Nathaniel considered telling him to stop, but was flattered to have someone so interested in his life. They spent a long time exploring the house, skipping only Dwight’s room. Caesar insisted on peeking in the door, but that was it. Eventually they ended up in the backyard, where Caesar jumped on the normally ignored trampoline, even dragging Nathaniel onto it with him. A movie next, then an early dinner, since they had skipped lunch. Caesar started making bedroom eyes afterwards, but Nathaniel insisted they go for a walk, wanting to feel less stuffed.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” Caesar said as they strolled. “Either take me to bed, or I’m locking myself in the bathroom. Just don’t expect to have any lotion left when I come back out.”

  “Fine, you horndog. Just so you know, I had more romantic stuff planned.”

  “Ugh.”

  Nathaniel glanced over at him and saw the playful expression. They intended to make the most of their privacy, a prospect that made him nervous. This would be his first time. Caesar’s too, in a way, but at least he had experience being the giver rather than the receiver. Nathaniel was completely out of his element. He felt like he should be the one guiding Caesar as he did in other matters. Browsing porn hadn’t helped, since most movies followed a formula of rimming before shoving it in. A few forum posts had been a little more informative, if Nathaniel could trust them.

  The walk was cut short when it started to rain, sending them running for the house.

  “Again?” Nathaniel complained. “What did you do to piss off the gods of weather?”

  “Just be glad we’re not actually camping.”

  Once they were back inside the house, Caesar grabbed his hand. He was panting slightly, winded from their run, and this made him resemble an eager puppy, one that dragged him toward the bedroom.

  Nathaniel felt like tugging in the opposite direction. “Should I light—”

  “Nope!” Caesar said.

  “Maybe we could—”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “Do you need—”

  “I’m ready,” Caesar said. “I’ll probably only last two seconds because you’ve been making me wait, but it’s going to be an awesome two seconds.”

  Nathaniel gave in. He wanted this too. He just needed it to be perfect for Caesar, who didn’t seem to share these concerns, so Nathaniel left his worries at the bedroom door. He grabbed Caesar’s shoulder and spun him around. A kiss, an embrace, then he lifted Caesar off his feet and hobbled forward to throw him on the bed.

  “That’s more like it!” Caesar said.

  They began in their usual manner, using their mouths and hands to bring each other pleasure. After a frenzied beginning they slowed, intending to enjoy this rare seclusion. They brought each other to the brink multiple times, taking breaks in between to cool down. Then they would start again.

  “I’m more than ready,” Caesar said.

  Nathaniel reached for the lube, squeezing a line out along his finger like mustard on a hotdog. Caesar made the same connection and laughed as he rolled onto his stomach. “All you’re missing are some buns.”

  “I think you can help me with that.” Nathaniel reached for Caesar’s butt, letting his finger slide up and down the crack. Then he carefully slid a finger inside, looking to Caesar for feedback.

  “It’s fine,” he breathed. “I’ve been practicing. By myself,” he added when Nathaniel appeared concerned. “Try another. Two at the same time.”

  Nathaniel did, his cock twitching when Caesar started to moan. After lubing himself, he flopped forward on his hands. Caesar flipped over, hips rising to meet him, legs wrapping around his waist. One of his hands reached down to position Nathaniel’s cock, the head rubbing against his hole. Then he nodded. Nathaniel pushed forward.

  Caesar grimaced. “Okay,” he wheezed. “Uh. Ow!”

  “Should I—”

  “Don’t move! Actually…” Caesar shoved him away.

  Nathaniel rolled over. “Not good?”

  Caesar’s face remained contorted with pain. “You’re a little bigger than two fingers.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Caesar said, but he was only half hard now. “Can we just lay here a minute?”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  What a disaster! Nathaniel flopped onto his back and silently chastised himself. If only he’d known better! There had to be some trick, or so many people wouldn’t be doing it. But somehow he had managed to mess it up.

  “Okay,” Caesar said a while later. “Let’s try it again.”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “We don’t have to.”

  “I’m not a quitter,” Caesar said.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” Caesar sat up and swung a leg over Nathaniel’s hip. Then he settled down. Nathaniel had gone limp, but Caesar kept grinding his rump against him and thwapping his stomach with his rock-hard cock. “Come on now. Giddy up cowboy!”

  Nathaniel laughed, which helped him relax. All but one part of him, which stood at attention again. He let Caesar remain in control. After applying more lube, they both held their breath as Caesar lowered himself. The movement seemed to take an eternity, but this time when Nathaniel eased inside, Caesar didn’t wince. He proceeded cautiously, moving a fraction of an inch each time before retreating again. Eventually the speed and depth of this motion increased, and their concentration turned to pleasure.

  For once Caesar didn’t have much to say. As Nathaniel reached forward to touch him, all he could do was gasp. “Same time,” were the only words he managed.

  “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

  Caesar nodded. A few minutes later he took hold of himself and nodded emphatically. Nathaniel closed his eyes, his hands sliding over Caesar’s hips, which he gripped. Overwhelmed by euphoria, he forgot to be careful, thrusting hard and fast. Caesar seemed okay with this though, since his every breath was a moan. When Nathaniel felt hot liquid shoot across his stomach, he knew he didn’t have to hold back any longer. He groaned and grunted, pull
ing Caesar close as he snarled with release. He held on even as the piston slowed and slipped out. Caesar stayed trapped in his arms, his whole body shaking.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Caesar said. “That was intense.” After a few haggard breaths he added. “I want to do that to you.”

  Nathaniel raised his head. “What?”

  “Next time,” Caesar asked. “Why not? There aren’t any rules.”

  “I guess,” Nathaniel said. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

  “A big strong guy like you?”

  “Maybe you’re stronger,” Nathaniel conceded. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you are.”

  “I don’t think so.” Caesar rolled off him, pushing himself up on his side. “Wanna hit the shower?”

  “Not really. I feel clean enough.”

  “Probably because you don’t have lube covering your ass. I feel like a glazed donut. Now come support me in the shower. I’m still shaky. Or do I need to file for divorce?”

  “You’re the boss,” Nathaniel said. Funny thing was, he wasn’t sure if he meant it jokingly or not.

  * * * * *

  A thud woke Nathaniel. This happened a lot in the movies, the actor lying flat on their back so they could sit upright in shock. He wished he could do the same. Instead he was on his side, face sticky with drool. He opened his eyes blearily, noticing that Caesar’s half of the bed was empty. That would explain the noise. Caesar probably got up to use the bathroom and bumped into something. He started drifting off again when he heard the crash of shattered glass. Then voices. Plural.

  He jolted awake. Nathaniel shoved out of bed with one syllable on his tongue. Dwight. Who else could it be? Caesar had probably heard him and gone to investigate. Nathaniel stooped to pull on his underwear, then rushed from the room, following the light to the kitchen. He noticed Dwight first, standing next to the counter, a bottle of vodka in one hand. On the ground was a shattered drinking glass and ice cubes. Closest to the door was Caesar, who faced Dwight and was in the middle of an explanation.

  “—your brother’s boyfriend. He knows I’m here. We can wake him up.”