by Neil Plakcy
When they were all done, Aunt Jenny announced, “The girls cooked, so the boys clean up.” She stood up. “We’ll all be outside when you finish.”
“And when she says boys, she means everyone of the male persuasion,” his dad said, nodding down the table.
“You know what I always say,” Uncle Wally said, and Erica, Gavin, and Archie chimed in with him. “Cash, ass, or grass, nobody rides for free.”
“You boys,” Aunt Ida said, pretending to be scandalized.
All the women stood and went outside, and Archie began loading plates up his arm.
“Archie used to be a waiter,” Gavin said to Miles. “He likes to show off.”
“Those who can, do,” Archie said. “Those who can’t just sit around having their pictures taken.”
Viking woofed.
“See, even your dog is ready for his close-up,” Archie said.
Roadside Romeos
In the kitchen, the dads organized an assembly line. Uncle Scott, muscular from years of tossing hay bales and swinging axes, scrubbed the pots and pans. Gavin’s dad rinsed the plates and glasses, and Uncle Wally, who was an engineer and very particular about organization, stacked the dishwasher. Viking kept getting underfoot, hoping to pick up a snack from someone’s unfinished plate.
“What was that your uncle said?” Miles whispered to Gavin as they went back to the dining room for another load.
“He was a hitchhiker in the seventies,” Gavin said. “That’s what he says the drivers used to say. You either paid for gas, supplied the grass, or…you know.”
“You mean your uncle…”
“Oh, no, he never put out. At least he says he didn’t. He always carried dope.”
Miles shook his head. “Life in the heartland.”
After they finished bringing in all the dishes, Archie was assigned to scrub the cook top, Gavin to wipe up the floor, and Miles to scour the sink. When the kitchen was spotless, the men went outside to join the women.
“Let’s hear some singing,” his father said. “You all have been practicing, haven’t you?”
Aunt Ida’s son Uncle Jim wasn’t there with his guitar, but Miles had a harmonica he used to give them a starting note, and the three Sweethearts sat on their rockers, their grandkids at their feet, and began to sing a cappella.
When they finished, his dad was the first to applaud, joined by the rest of the family. “That was awfully sweet,” he said. “You are going to blow them away at that concert.”
“Or sweetly awful,” Miles muttered to Gavin when they were milling around later. “Your father doesn’t have much of an ear for music, does he?”
“He’s never been musical,” Gavin said. “But he’s also the kind of guy who has a good word for everyone. He sponsors a Little League team that hardly ever wins a game, but he’s always there cheering them on and buying them pizza. I’m not surprised that guy Joey knows who he is. He shakes so many hands it’s surprising his hasn’t fallen off yet.”
“So you must take after your mother?” Miles said, smiling.
“I can be nice to people,” Gavin protested.
“Let’s narrow that down from ‘people’ to ‘cute guys,’ and I’ll believe you.”
Gavin looked at him. What had crawled up his ass? Was he still pissed that Gavin had been friendly to the waiter? But he wasn’t going to argue. “Come on. Let’s go hang out at the lake.”
“Nah, I’m going to do some work and then hit the hay.” Miles laughed. “Now I see where that expression came from.”
Gavin discovered that Uncle Scott and Aunt Jenny had gone home already, as had Uncle Wally and Aunt Barbara. His parents and Viking were the only ones staying at the lake for the weekend. He hung out by the lake with them, Erica, and Archie. When his parents decided to turn in, Erica said she was tired too. Archie went up to his room to call Mary Anne, who had been unable to come up that weekend because of some work commitment, and Gavin was left at loose ends.
He took Viking for a walk along the lakefront, enjoying the chance to spend some quality time with the dog. But eventually Viking turned and pulled back toward the house, and when Gavin let him off the leash at the front door, he scampered up the stairs in search of his parents.
Gavin went to Miles’s room-slash-studio. “I’m bored,” he said. “You want to go for a ride?”
Miles looked up from his keyboard. “Is that a euphemism?”
“No, it’s a question,” Gavin said. “I get antsy when there are so many members of my family in one place.”
Miles laughed. “That’s fine. You can show me the places you used to go to make out when you were a teenager.”
They climbed into Miles’s SUV, and he backed out of his parking space on the gravel, then turned into the driveway. “Where am I going?” Miles asked.
“Head toward Eau Claire. There’s this place around the far end of the lake.”
There was no traffic on the country road that late, and Miles turned on his high beams. “A whole lot of nowhere out here,” he said.
“This is all the Gunderson farm,” Gavin said. “Turn right up there at the stop sign.” He directed Miles onto a dirt road. “Just up there. Park under that pine tree.”
Miles pulled up and turned the car off. Then he leaned over and kissed Gavin hard, his tongue snaking out of his mouth and into Gavin’s. Gavin wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, feeling his dick surge.
They kissed and hugged for a couple of minutes, and then Miles impaled himself on the gear shift. “This isn’t going to work,” he said, his voice thick with lust.
“Backseat,” Gavin said. He jumped out of the car and took a quick look around. In the light of the crescent moon, he couldn’t see anyone else around, so he toed off his shoes and dropped his pants and his boxer briefs.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked into the car.
Miles got out. “When I was a teenager, I didn’t have a car. Forgive me if it takes me a minute to follow you.”
Gavin opened the back door and jumped in. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it with his shoes and the rest of his clothes into the front seat.
“Obviously not your first time in a car,” Miles said as he climbed in beside Gavin, naked himself.
They sat beside each other, kissing and rubbing each other. “This is just too awkward,” Miles said. “How about if I eat your ass?”
“I wouldn’t turn down an offer like that.” Gavin squirmed around so that he was resting his head against the door, with his ass up in the air. Miles demonstrated that he had a very skilled tongue. He slurped up and down Gavin’s perineum, then folded his tongue and began poking it into Gavin’s ass. At the same time, he was using his fingers to tease Gavin’s sweet spot and tickle his thighs.
Gavin groaned with pleasure. He was used to taking the more active role, and it was nice to have somebody focused on pleasing him. Clearly Miles had plenty of customer-service skills.
Gavin’s dick began to ache from the stimulation of his ass and his prostate. He reached down and wrapped a fist around his engorged dick, already lubed with plenty of precum. Miles was slurping and nibbling his ass, and Gavin increased his strokes until he couldn’t hold back anymore and he shot his load into the air.
“Crap!” he said. He reached out to grab as much as he could before it spilled on the upholstery. Fortunately what he didn’t catch went onto his own stomach.
Miles grinned at him. “So, was it good for you?”
“Good isn’t the word for it,” Gavin panted. “Now let me do you.”
Miles shook his head. “I’m fine. Besides, we should get back. You need your rest.”
Gavin wanted to complain, but honestly, he felt drained and he was happy enough to let Miles get into the front seat and turn the car on. He remained in the back seat, his eyes closed, daydreaming about Miles Goodwin. He could see himself going on dates with Miles, making conversation across a restaurant table, sitting beside him in the movies holding hands, exp
loring his body over and over. It was a very pleasant fantasy, only interrupted when Miles pulled up behind the house.
“I suggest you get dressed before you get out of the car,” he said. “You have a big family, and somebody could be up late.”
Gavin wanted to say that he didn’t care—let anybody who wanted to look know what he and Miles had been up to. But then he remembered his father’s warning. And he’d heard all kinds of stories, some of them from Miles himself, about how people in the music business could be venal, using talent just to further their own interests.
Miles wasn’t like that, though. He couldn’t be.
Gavin took a deep breath. His father and Erica had both checked out Miles’s bona fides, and they’d both been satisfied. But what if he was in love with Miles, and Miles was only interested in him for his voice, for what Gavin could do for his career? It would be an ironic switch for a guy who’d always been accepted at face value, based on his looks.
Miles tossed Gavin’s clothes to the backseat. “Come on, Romeo. Get dressed.”
As Gavin used his T-shirt to clean himself up, he said, “So if I’m Romeo, does that make you Juliet?”
Miles just laughed.
What You Want
Gavin dozed off to more pleasant fantasies about a life with Miles. He and Miles could move back to Eau Claire, where Miles would have his own recording studio. If Gavin’s singing career didn’t take off, he could work at the dealership with his father. There were worse fates in life. Sure, it wouldn’t be the fantasy life he’d dreamed of. But with Miles, he could see himself living in a nice house on a couple of acres. Dogs, for sure. And who knows…maybe kids. So many paths had opened up for gay guys in the last few years.
When he went downstairs the next morning, his father was sitting by himself at the kitchen table, a glass of orange juice and a piece of toast in front of him. “Who are you, and what have you done with my son? My Gavin is never up this early.”
“I’m becoming a grown-up, Dad, just like you always wanted. My shift at Java Joe’s starts at seven most days.” He filled the espresso maker’s reservoir with water and began preparing himself a cappuccino. “Can I make you some kind of a coffee?”
“You’re not planning to do that for the rest of your life, are you?”
“Focus, Dad. You answer my question first; then I’ll answer yours.”
“Yes, please,” his father said. “Surprise me.”
Gavin knew his father’s taste—his favorite ice cream flavor was vanilla, his favorite cake was pound cake, and his favorite fruit was the wholesome, ordinary apple…though occasionally he went wild and paired a bit of Wisconsin cheddar with his slice. As he searched the cabinet for vanilla extract, he said, “I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. Maybe I’ll be a model. Maybe a singer. Maybe I’ll move back to Eau Claire and come work with you.”
His father said nothing, just crunched his toast.
“But Java Joe’s has been a good experience for me. I show up to work on time with my game face on.”
That was another of his father’s phrases. Whenever he was about to start negotiating with a customer, he put his game face on. “I’m learning about people and how to deal with them. Those are all the skills you taught me, even if you thought I wasn’t listening.”
The rest of the family began to filter in, and Gavin made everyone coffee. His mother took over the stove, preparing breakfast for everyone, and the grannies sat together chirping happily like a bunch of birds in springtime.
Miles was the last to come in.
“I brought the agreements with me,” Gavin’s dad said. “Now that we’re all together, we can get everyone’s signatures.”
“What agreements?” Gavin asked.
“Just a formality,” his dad replied. “For your performance at the Dells and Miles’s participation.” He opened up a portfolio and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “There are two separate contracts, and each one of you needs to sign both, on the appropriate line.” He passed two sheets of paper and a pen to his mother, who signed her name and moved the pages on to her sister.
Gavin signed his name when the pages came to him and then passed them on to Archie, who gave them to Erica.
When they were all done, his father said, “I’ll stop by the dealership before my golf game and make copies of everything for Wally and Scott so each branch of the family has one.”
He stood up. “Natalie, dear, do you want a ride into town?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” Gavin’s mother said. Gavin loved to hear his parents exchange endearments; it reminded him that there was real love out there. Now, with Miles, he felt he’d found that, and he looked forward to lots of those exchanges with him.
His parents left Viking at the house, and the big Irish setter went to sleep on one of the sofas in the living room. The three grannies, Gavin, Erica, and Archie trooped into the makeshift studio. It was a tight fit with all six of them in the room and Miles behind his keyboard.
“I have the sheet music for the five most popular songs you recorded,” Miles said. “I’d like you to sing them all through once, and then we’ll decide which ones to focus on for the concert.”
“Apple Cider Time” had been the Sweethearts’ biggest hit, but they’d also done well with a couple of covers of folk tunes like “Down in the Valley” and “The Bells.” They had also scored with another original tune, “Milking the Cows,” composed by a songwriter with roots in Wisconsin.
It was the last one they sang, a novelty tune which required Grandma Frances to sing and to mime milking cows. Aunt Myrtle and Aunt Ida mooed and chimed in on the chorus. Gavin thought it was pretty funny to hear the back and forth of Ida’s high notes and Myrtle’s lower ones, and a couple of times, Archie, Erica, and Gavin broke up in laughter and they had to start all over again.
“My votes are for ‘Apple Cider Time,’ ‘Milking the Cows,’ and ‘Down in the Valley,” Miles said. “What do you all think?”
There was general agreement, and then they stopped for lunch. After they ate, the grannies pleaded exhaustion and went to their rooms for naps. That left Gavin, Archie, and Erica with Miles.
“Let’s experiment with some beat-boxing on ‘Milking the Cows,’” Miles said when they were together in the studio.
Gavin and Erica began to sing, and Archie threw in random bits of percussion. Miles was furiously taking notes, and when they finished, he had them go back again and again, adding and subtracting bits. Then he worked with Erica on her high notes. “Here’s where you can go operatic on us. Let’s hear that coloratura.”
“First time I’ve used opera techniques for mooing,” she said.
Gavin kept waiting for his critique from Miles. He could tell that sometimes he was still going off-key, though he tried to hear it and correct himself as quickly as he could. But his singing was crap, and he knew it.
By the time they broke for the afternoon, though, Miles had said almost nothing to Gavin, other than a few minor comments. Miles dismissed them so he could work in the studio. Gavin collected Viking, and the four of them walked out to the lakeshore.
“What did you do to Miles?” Erica demanded.
“Yeah, that dude is seriously mad at you,” Archie said.
Viking tugged Gavin quickly toward the lake. “I didn’t do anything to him, I swear. Everything was great last night.”
They walked, and Viking sniffed and peed, and eventually Archie and Erica wormed the truth out of Gavin, that he and Miles had gone out to a secluded spot at the lake and had sex.
“In the car?” Erica said, outraged. “Ew.”
“Been there, done that.” Archie held up his hands. “Not with another dude, though.”
“Yeah, you go on protesting,” Gavin said. “But seriously? Why would Miles be pissed? I thought we were going great.”
“Let me guess,” Archie said. “You positioned the rearview mirror so you could watch yourself?”
Gavin leaned over and slugge
d him in the arm. “Fuck you, asshole.”
“Don’t you punch me.” Archie jumped on Gavin, and they fell to the ground wrestling. Viking began barking. Archie was stronger, but Gavin was willing to play dirty, if he could just get a hand free to squeeze his cousin’s balls or pinch his nipples.
“Stop it, you two!” Erica said. “You’re going to get hurt, and that’s going to screw everything up.”
Gavin was on his back with Archie’s knee against his chest, and he held Gavin’s arms against the ground. Viking was down on two paws growling, and Gavin was worried that the dog might attack. “Uncle,” Gavin said.
“Not good enough,” Archie said. “Repeat after me. I’m a selfish, arrogant pussy.”
“You are, but what am I?” Gavin said.
Viking barked again and bared his teeth.
“I swear to God I’m going to kill you both,” Erica said. “Archie, get off him. And Gavin, shut your fucking mouth for a change.”
Archie backed off, wiping his hands together, and Gavin sat up. Viking came over and licked his face, and Gavin scratched behind the dog’s ears. “I’m sorry I punched you,” he said to Archie. “But what can I say? I’m an asshole, and I screw up everything I touch.”
“I might be just a little jealous of how easy everything comes to you,” Archie said. “But at the end of the day, we’re family, right?” He held his hand out.
Gavin shook it and then used Archie’s strength to pull himself up. “Right.”
They let Viking off his leash, and they walked along the lakeshore, toward the cluster of small cabins at the south end. The dog romped ahead of them, all his agitation forgotten.
“So how are we going to deal with this thing with Miles?” Erica asked.
“You have to talk to him,” Archie said. “Maybe it wasn’t as good for him as it was for you and he didn’t know how to tell you that.”
Gavin thought back to the night before. Miles hadn’t wanted any action himself. Was that because he’d lost interest in Gavin? What did that mean? How could they manage to work together? He called Viking and hooked up the dog’s leash, and they all walked back up to the house.
