Don't Read in the Closet volume one

by Various Authors

  Parker grinned. “I suppose you've got a lot to readjust to. Damn, it's just so good seeing you again. Just promise you won't ever leave again,” smiling, while boring deep into Jaime's gentle hazel eyes.

  What’d he mean by that, “promise not to leave again?”

  “It's just not been the same around here without you, ya know?” shaking his head, flashing his trademark Pepsodent smile. Jaime nearly creamed his pants.

  Madge presented a platter of sliced ham, sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs, biscuits and a stack of buttermilk pancakes to a perplexed, open mouthed Jaime. “What's all this?”

  “Hon, in these parts, we don't often get the pleasure to serve our military boys, let alone a hero. Complements of the house,” beaming like a proud momma sow, showing off her liter of newborn piglets, “just think of it as our way of saying thank you. And son, we're so proud of you and welcome home.”

  “A hero?” Parker asked, with piquing interest.

  Brandishing a dismissive wave, Jaime shook his head. “Hey, I'm no hero, alright? I just served my country in the best way I knew.”

  “Hon, that's a hero in my book.” Smiling, she sniffled, fluttering heavily mascaraed false eyelashes, combating a sudden onset of emotional tears; like two Monarch butterflies preparing to take flight. Turning to Parker, “You're usual, babe?”

  Parker nodded, not taking his challenging cross-examining eyes off Jaime. Was he keeping something from him? Or is Jaime just being modest? But, a hero?

  Ducking his head, Jaime did not want his best bud to notice the tears pooling in his eyes. Damn it Madge, you're making me all teary in front of the only man I've ever loved and he's straight.

  Advancing outside the pleasantly cooled air of Morrison's, Jaime and Parker were assaulted as they stepped into an intense furnace as the broiling July sun beat down on the bleached, baking asphalt. Wavy lines of oppressive heat weaved above the sweltering oily pavement; reminding Jaime of the fiery fever generated from the parched desert sands overseas. Jaime had forgotten how quickly the Georgia summer mornings warmed. Glancing at his wrist watch, it was nearly 11, had they reminisced that long? Familiarity prevailed, even after all these years. It seemed their friendship had merely been held captive in a state of suspended animation, until today, when the clock resumed ticking once again.

  “You need to be somewhere?” noticing Jaime checking his watch.

  “No not really.” Suspecting Parker had things to do. “I guess, I should be heading to the house,” giving Parker an excuse to leave, not that he actually wanted him to.

  “You're not going to stay in that old house tonight are you?” Parker's rugged face bristled with disbelief.

  “Sure,” he shrugged. “I expect it'll need some cleaning up and all. Hey, I've bunked in a hell of a lot worse places.”

  The Duncan house had not been inhabited for more than nine years. Parker had boarded up the old place after Jaime's parents had been killed in a tragic car accident just off South Interstate 75. Even today, no one knows what caused the Duncan car to veer off the highway. Jaime had barely joined the military, Parker tried to contact him, he had been unable to reach him till several days after the funeral. Jaime was devastated when he learned the news, but there was little he could do, Parker had stepped in and taken care of the arrangements in Jaime's absence. He owed a lot to Parker for doing that for him. Not having been home since he joined the army, Jaime was not entirely sure he was ready to deal with the estate which had sat dormant for nearly a decade. Being sole survivor of the family now, his baby brother had passed when he was only 9, drowning in a flash flood. Jaime had tried to save him but the current had been too strong, washing his brother out of his arms and down the river. The body was never found. That memorable flood changed his parents forever, becoming overly protective of their remaining child and devoting their lives to being devout Southern Baptists.

  “You're bunkin' with me, soldier. That's an order,” poorly attempting to imitate a drill sergeant. Jaime cracked up laughing.

  He had forgotten how easily Parker could make him laugh, even when things seemed their bleakest, he could always depend on Park. The Duncan family homestead was more than likely in worse condition than he had imagined. Parker was probably right; besides, the old house was not where he wanted to be anyway. Secretly, he ached to be alone with Parker.

  “Let's get your things, buddy.” Parker insisted, clapping his arm over Jaime's shoulder, spinning an about-face they headed for the bus station to retrieve Jaime's duffel bag.

  ****

  Shredding lettuce, Jaime observed Parker's confidence and ease handling himself in the kitchen. Difficult keeping his eyes off the magnificent male specimen who made his dick throb every time he looked at him, not helping they each were wearing only scanty workout shorts. Considering the heat and humidity, the less clothing worn, the more bearable the heat. Parker did not have A/C, not unlike most folks in the minuscule town; he was accustomed to the heat. Still living in the very house he grew up in, an old two-story farm house his grandfather had built. Never knowing his mother, she had abandoned him at the hospital, just days after he was born. No one knew who the baby-father was, there were rumors of course, but without his mother around to confirm, the identity of his father was only speculation. Raised by aging grandparents, who passed on somewhere about the same time of Jaime's parent's passing. Parker's childhood hadn't been easy, but he turned out to be quite the self-made man. Jaime couldn't help but admire him, feeling nothing but pride. Never making excuses or allowing his shortcomings to hold him back, Parker took life by the balls. Now look at him. Jaime may be respected for serving an extended tour in the army, but it did not make him any better of a man than Park, his bud was loved and admired in the community. You might say, the town folk actually raised Parker, he was their hometown boy. Not able to resist, Jaime could not help but sneak a peek at the bulge protruding from Parker's shorts, damn, he must be hung like a stud horse, squirming to adjust the expanding excitement within his groin. He was in awe of the sexy hunk lazily stirring a pot of freshly snapped green beans and bacon simmering on the stove. Impressed the man had not only made a reputable life for himself, but also dinner as well, all from scratch, even baked sour-dough bread and a Georgia peach pie.

  “Where in the hell did you learn to cook like this?”

  Snickering, Parker moved to the opposite counter, “from watching Me-ma, actually, in this very kitchen,” grinding peppercorns, the course shards showered over the shark steaks before massaging the thick slabs of pink flesh with his agile fingers. “I suppose, I learned to cook out of necessity, mostly to ward off starvation. Honestly though, if I ate every meal at Morrison's I'd be the size of a frickin' house. Have you ever considered all the calories and cholesterol they serve up with each order? Jeez it's scary.”

  Jaime could not help but laugh to himself, for a straight dude, he sure sounds gay.

  “What’re you smiling about?” wrapping his muscular arm around Jaime's thick neck in a mock choke hold, just like when they were boys, but, back then, his arm was not covered in auburn fur. He enjoyed the muscled arm controlling him, so did his dick, even though he knew Parker was only horsing around.

  “Oh,” Jaime put down the utility knife he had been using to slice a cucumber for the salad. Staring blankly ahead at the kitchen counter door, he felt Parker's furry chest pressed against his bare back. Secretly, he fiercely wanted to spin around and nuzzle the fuzz covering Parker's broad chest. “I was wondering why you never married, that's all.”

  “Never met the right gal,” releasing his hold on Jaime, to toss steaks on the hot indoor grill. “And you, you’re still gay?”

  “Sure am, that’s one thing that’ll never change.”

  “So, why aren't you partnered? Haven't found Mr. Right?” The sizzle of the raw meat hitting the hot grill melded with his teasing laugh.

  “And what makes you so certain I haven't?”

  Turning, he pressed into Jamie's backside
, grabbing Jaime's left wrist, examining his ring finger closely, “I don't see a gold band,” he teased, with a grin.

  “Okay,” spinning around in Parker's arm, still grasping his wrist, nose to nose, their eyes lock, “maybe I have and he doesn't know it yet,” a suggestive smirk leered crossed Jaime's face.

  Parker's brilliant smile waned as apprehension washed over him.

  Immediately after the comment, so carelessly spewed from of his mouth, Jaime wished he could have retracted it; after all, he could not confess his true feelings for his host. Parker released his hold on Jaime's wrist, returning to check on the grilling steaks. Jaime observed Parker, worried he had said too much and that Parker had picked up on his stupid, reckless slip of the tongue. Damn it, Jaime, if you don't watch yourself, you'll fuck up an awesome friendship.

  “Do you remember,” excitedly, Parker spun on his heels, “how we kicked West Hawthorne's ass?” Laughing, acting as if he had already forgotten the uncomfortable tension that had momentarily crossed between them.

  “What a pathetic excuse for a team. They sucked like no ones shit.” Jaime laughed. “Do you remember the intimidation on their scrawny quarterback's face when he saw you step up to the line? Hell, I bet he crapped his pants. You're twice his size.”

  “Who'd have expected a state championship football team would come out of a wide-spot-in-the-road town like ours? Shit, we barely had enough guys to make up a team.”

  “With you quarterbacking, we kicked some sorry ass our senior year, didn't we?”

  “You ain't shittin',” clapping Jaime on the back. “Ready to eat, buddy?”

  ****

  Jaime could all but taste Parker's naked body laying next to his, even though the bedrooms were separated by a few 2x4 studs and panels of sheet rock, it did not prevent him from fantasizing about him. The very thought of Parker in the next room made his hard cock beg for attention. Gawd, I'm so in love with the man, maybe more now than ever before, but, with a clear conscience, he could not act on that love. Burying his face in the pillow, he cried himself to sleep.

  “SHIT!” Parker sprang up in bed, drenched in an apprehensive sweat. What the fuck kind of dream was that? Climbing out of bed, a shaken Parker staggered to the adjoining bathroom, vigorously splashing his face with cold water. Staring into the vanity mirror, he asked the reflection peering back, “What was that shit? I'm no fag. Why the hell was I kissing Jaime?” The reflection did not reply, making him wonder if the wiring in his head had short circuited. Jaime and he were best of friends, but why all of a sudden the erotic dream about him. Why can't I stop looking at Jaime's lips? What’s going on, I'm straight, right? I love pussy. On top of that, he had a roaring boner he could not explain. Were his dreams and his sudden inability to control his prick connected? It's gotta be coincidence. It's gotta be. The digesting shark from dinner nose dived in his stomach, making him feel queasy and even more uncomfortable. Stepping into the shower he struggled to wash away the unacceptable nightmare and his persistent hardon with an icy cold shower.

  ****

  Dropping Jaime off at the Duncan house, Parker returned home to putter around the house. Working the swing shift provided a free morning to run errands and get a head start on laundry. However, he was unable to concentrate; images of Jaime's lips swam in his mind, drowning in an unexplained pool of confusion. Everything reminded him of Jaime, in turn making his prick hard. Had he eaten something that had not agreed with him or was Jaime just on his mind because he had returned home? Why was his body betraying him? I'm not no homo. So why're images of Jaime consuming my every thought? No matter what he did, last night's disturbing dream haunted him, unable to block the image and even the sensation of Jaime's lips pressed against his, it was driving him insane.

  After work, Parker swung by the old Duncan place to pick up Jaime, not that Parker's house was a long walk by any means, the town was not that big anyway, he just wanted to help out his bud in any way he could. As Parker neared the porch steps, Jaime stepped out the open door.

  “Well, ain't this special?” Jaime grinned, planting his hands firmly on his hips, admiring an approaching sexy uniformed police officer. “Damn, don't you look fine in a uniform?” Fine was understating the stud-muffin standing before him, using every ounce of self restraint to not rip off Parker's uniform and rape the man right there in the yard, in front of God and anyone else.

  Parker blushed. “Hey you stop it, or I might have to arrest you for harassing a public servant.” Parker laughed, he had to admit, and he liked the complement, even though he was certain Jaime was only razzing him. But still, he sensed a rustling in his slacks, and it wasn't caused by the wind. Damn-it-to-hell, why'd I go commando today? He tried willing his stirring cock to rest, but it had no intention of cooperating, or was there a possibly he did not want it to?

  “You 'bout ready to call it a day?”

  “Yeah, it'll be gettin' dark soon and I haven't had the electric turned on yet.” Jaime turned to close the front door.

  Parker could not divert his eyes off the nearly naked man. He only hoped the man could not feel his gaze burning into his backside as he eyeballed Jaime's firm round ass. Wondering how his cock would feel inside that tight sweet hole, the very thought had him leaking precum. Adjusting his cock, he could not let Jaime see his arousal, the very thought made him shudder. Why was he even fantasizing about Jaime's ass? Maybe it was because it had been a long dry-spell since he had last tapped a nice juicy twat? Yes, that's it. I just need to get laid. This incident has nothing to do what-so-ever with Jaime.

  Leaping off the porch, Jaime landed beside Parker, making him jump, he was already edgy and Jaime's enthusiastic antics were not helping the situation.

  “You're a bundle of energy after putting in a hard day on the house.” Parker nervously mused.

  “I was rejuvenated when I saw you,” exuberantly wrapping his arm over his best cop pal's shoulder.

  Parker nervously edged away from Jaime as they walked toward the car.

  “What's up with you?”

  “Oh nothing, I'm just tired, I suppose.”

  “Okay, just as long as you don't get all homophobic on me all of a sudden.” Jaime offhandedly snickered. “Hey, I got an idea. Why don't I make dinner for you tonight?” Resting his crossed arms on top the car roof, he looked at Parker on the opposite side of the car, patiently waiting for a reply.

  “Honest?” Questioning Jaime's intentions, “but why?”

  “I owe you, a lot,” he shrugged. “You've been a terrific friend; let's just say it's a start toward repaying my undying gratitude to my best bud.”

  Spellbound, Parker was unable to tear his green sparkling eyes from Jaime's captivating lips, tenderly making love to each causally spoken syllable. What was the draw to Jaime's lips? They were not the soft supple lips of a woman, but those of a man, still, Parker had always thought they were the most beautiful lips he had ever seen. He loved to watch Jaime's mouth dance when he spoke, it was like poetry in motion, and he recalled having read that somewhere and it described Jaime's lips to a tee.

  “Ahem,” clearing his throat, “earth to Parker.”

  Shaking his head, Parker blinked, emptying his head. Transitioning back to reality, faintly aware he had yet to answer the question still looming in the air, he managed to force a grin and nodded. “Sounds like a plan, buddy. A night away from the kitchen, I could get used to that. Climb in, let's go home.”

  On the ride home, Jaime wondered, was something developing between them, were they becoming more than just friends? No. He dismissed the thought. Wanting Parker so badly, he was willing to read imaginary things into the situation which did not exist, at least not in Parker's straight world reality.

  ****

  After disposing the dinner dishes in the dishwasher, Parker suggested they go outdoors to kick back and chill with a couple of beers. Reclined in two folding patio loungers under the stars, an easy balmy breeze breathed across their bare chests as they silently diges
ted dinner and nursed ice cold beers.

  Parker stared into the night sky, and swallowed. “When did you first know you were gay?” his question came out husky and he drew a swig of beer, trying to lubricate his suddenly dry mouth.

  “I don't know. It wasn't exactly something I jotted on the calendar with an expectation to celebrate annually.” Jaime chuckled.

  “Honestly, when did you know?”

  “In a way, I probably always knew. But it wasn't till – I was maybe14 when I came to terms with my sexuality. Accepting myself for who I was and not trying to meet everyone's expectations.”

  “But, you never acted all sissy like.”

  “Thanks.” He snickered. “Besides, not all gay people are effeminate.”

  “So, when did you first kiss a guy?”

  “Not until I left here. Think about it, how many gay people do you know in our town?”

  Parker did not respond, suspecting he interpreted the question as rhetorical. “That's exactly my point. I didn't meet a gay guy till I went into the army.”

  “Are you happy – you know – being gay?”

  “Are you happy being straight?” snickering at his come-back jab. Parker did not respond. Jaime began picking up on Parker's silent seriousness. Not once, during the evening, had Parker found any of Jaime's light comments humorous. Park was always the life of the party, quick wit and ever present contagious laugh, but not tonight, the abrupt serious tone was alarming.

  “Why the interrogation tonight? I know it's not something we've really talked about, but why the sudden interest?”

  “I don't know. Guess I just want to know more about the part of you that we – you know – never really talked about.”

  “That's cool,” getting up from the lounger, “want another beer?”

  “Sure.”

  “Be right back,” nonchalantly trailing his finger tips across Parker's bare shoulder before sauntering toward the house.

  Parker's body tingled from the touch, his dick responded by tenting in his worn jersey shorts. Cupping his face in his hands, he was overcome with confusion, not sure if he wanted to cry or rejoice. Was he craving human contact so badly he welcomed Jaime's touch as substitution for that of a woman? He shook his head. This can't be happening. I'm not gay. I'm not. Tucking his ballooning boner between his legs just before Jaime returned with two more bottled beers. An electric jolt shot through his body as their fingers touched when he accepted the beer. Gazing into Jaime's twinkling eyes, rattled, he could not understand his sudden desire to draw him into his arms and kiss him.