by Drew Hunt
Parker was doubled over with laughter. “Did she say you had a cute face?”
Mason shot Parker the bird.
Parker tackled Mason to the floor. They wrestled until Parker’s stomach rumbled.
“Come on, bud,” Parker stood up and held out a hand to help Mason rise. “Where you thinking about taking me on our date?” he asked playfully.
Date? Mason thought. “Uh, well, there’s that new steak house just off the exit ramp. It’s supposed to be really good.”
A shadow fell across Parker’s beautiful features. “I was only joking.”
“I know, but I’d still like to go.”
“Yeah but…” Parker’s hand went to his back pocket.
“My treat. You paid last time, remember?”
“Yeah, but that place is real expensive, Wendy’s the other night only cost…”
Mason put a finger over Parker’s lips. “Hey, if I’m taking my man out on a date, then he’s gonna have the best.” Mason tried to emulate Parker’s light tone, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.
Parker pulled Mason into a tight hug. “Let me use the can, then we’ll get going, okay?”
Mason nodded, and watched Parker leave the room. He was both nervous and amazed at how open he’d allowed himself to be about his true feelings for Parker.
* * * *
“This thing can go faster. Come on, bud, don’t be a pussy.”
Mason was torn. On the one hand he didn’t want to come across as a wimp in front of Parker. This warred with the type of person he’d always been. Yet Mason was a law-abiding citizen. The fact that his uncle, whom he admired, was a cop, played a large part in this.
“I don’t want anything to happen to this baby, and dad would kill me if I got caught speeding.” Not to mention my uncle.
Parker shrugged. Mason hoped he didn’t see him as a wuss. Maybe he should loosen up some, especially if he were to keep Parker interested and away from the likes of Hannah Berwick, he thought, following the signs for the freeway.
After riding a few miles, Mason took the exit ramp and soon he was pulling up outside the steak house. “Sorry, Parker, but I’m not a speed freak, it’s just not who I am.”
Parker smiled and clapped a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, dude, you’re still a cool guy.”
Mason felt as though he was walking on air as he and Parker crossed the parking lot. His good mood lasted throughout their meal. When the conversation moved to soccer, Mason asked why Parker had attended his last game but kept himself hidden away.
Parker’s face reddened, Mason thought it made him look even more adorable. “Well I’d, uh, sorta already realized that I liked you, and…But I still had to convince myself, you know?”
“Thanks, it meant a lot that you went, even if I didn’t know it at the time.”
“That’s okay. When’s the next game?”
“Next Thursday evening, at our school.”
“I’ll be there.”
The conversation moved to football. Parker became more expansive, as well as boastful. Mason lapped it up.
The food had been great, the portions large, Mason’s dining companion funny, happy and just incredible. He felt relaxed and content as they left the restaurant.
“Wanna have a turn at the wheel?” Mason asked, tossing his car keys at Parker, who caught them effortlessly.
“Now you’re talking,” he grinned. Mason tried to emulate that grin, but found it difficult when he considered what he was potentially in for.
After fastening their seatbelts, Parker said, “Let’s see what this V-six baby can do. Wanna feel all 140 horses?”
Mason winced, wishing he’d not let Parker behind the wheel. As they drove along the freeway, Mason kept stealing anxious glances at the speedometer. Parker soon reached the posted limit, but thankfully never exceeded it. Mason slowly relaxed as it dawned on him Parker wasn’t going to get them in trouble.
Steering the car into the drive, Parker shut off the engine. Mason noticed his mom’s car was already there.
“Guess I ought to be getting home,” Parker said, sounding unenthusiastic.
“You don’t have to go just cause Mom’s home.”
“Thanks,” Parker said, giving Mason’s left bicep a squeeze, “I’ll just come in for a minute, but I’ve got homework, plus my chores.”
The two got out of the Beretta and headed for the Grants’ kitchen.
“Honey, I wondered where you were,” Mason’s mother said, presenting her cheek for Mason to kiss. “Hello, Parker, thank you for driving my son to and from school today.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Mrs. Grant.”
“Please, call me Samantha.”
“When Parker brought me home we saw that the garage had returned my car, so we decided to take it out for a test drive.”
“And how was the transmission?”
“It’s good. I’m just taking Parker up to my room for a while, that okay?”
“Sure, honey. Will you stay for supper, Parker?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Um, Samantha, but Mason and I had something while we were out.”
“Oh,” Samantha said, bringing a hand to her cheek. “I almost forgot. I’m afraid your father has got something on at the University this weekend so we won’t be able to get to the cabin.”
“Oh, Mom!” Mason looked forward to the times spent at their place in the Cascade Mountains.
“Sorry, honey. But it can’t be helped. You know how much pressure the Dean puts on your father.”
“And how Dad can never say no to him,” Mason said sarcastically.
“Mason. That wasn’t called for. Look, um, you could always go and take Parker, that is, if…”
Mason looked at his new friend. He wouldn’t have had the guts to ask himself, but since his mother had raised the subject, he couldn’t help kindling the small ray of hope that had ignited in his heart.
“Um, I’d have to clear it with my mom, but I can’t see why not.”
“Fantastic!” Mason said loudly. He had to hold himself back from giving Parker a hug. He knew his parents were cool with their son being gay, but he’d never had an opportunity to test their tolerance of public displays of affection.
“You’ll love it up there. It’s so quiet and remote.” Mason began to hope the solitude of the place wouldn’t be a turn off to the outgoing, sociable Parker.
Chapter 3
Pill Hill—Portland OR, July 2005
The elevator car gave a sudden lurch. Mason heard a sickening grinding noise. The lights flickered, but stayed on, as the car came to a stop.
“Shit!” Parker said, pressing buttons on the control panel, but nothing happened.
Mason’s panic increased. He couldn’t be trapped in a small metal box with this man, the man he’d once loved.
* * * *
The Cascade Mountains, WA, Columbus Day Weekend 1991
“If you didn’t want to come, you should have said,” Mason finally spoke up. Parker had been restless ever since they’d arrived at the cabin.
“Oh, babe, no, it’s not that,” Parker said, kissing Mason before snuggling back into his chest.
Mason resumed stroking Parker’s hair, relieved everything between them was okay.
As soon as they’d arrived at the log cabin, the first thing Mason had done was light a fire in the stone fireplace in the main room, as well as a smaller one in the master bedroom. After they’d carried in the bags and supplies, the pair had crashed on the couch in front of the blazing fire.
“It’s my back. I took some hard hits today.”
Mason had watched from the bleachers as Parker had done his stuff, wowing the crowd of visiting Falcon fans as he tore apart the Jackson Raiders defense pretty much single-handed. Mason knew he was exaggerating, but he didn’t care. Parker had been awesome; he had scored a touchdown, gained 162 yards, and caught seven passes. At the end they gave him the game ball. As soon as he had climbed stiffly into Mason’s Beretta he handed
the ball to Mason.
“A couple of the hits were late.” Parker wriggled against Mason’s chest. “Those fucking refs were blind, or playing for the other team.”
It wasn’t like Parker to swear, especially when they were alone. “Want me to give you a back rub? I’ve got some massage oil around here somewhere.” Mason didn’t add that its usual purpose was as an aid to jerking off.
“Would you? I was gonna get one from the trainer after the game, but I knew you’d be waiting, and I didn’t want to delay us.” Parker had been given permission to leave the Jackson campus with Mason, rather than return on the team bus.
Mason sighed before gently pushing Parker from him and rising from the sofa. “You should have stayed. I feel terrible that you’ve been in pain all this time.”
“I’m tough.”
Mason leaned down and kissed the recumbent Parker on the lips. “But what few people realize is inside that macho stud super-jock exterior, you’re a real pussycat.”
Parker meowed.
As Mason rooted around in his bag for the massage oil, he marveled at how close he and Parker had become over the past week. He was no longer afraid of the big jock, but he still couldn’t get his head around the fact that they were boyfriends. When Parker had called him by that term the previous day, Mason had had to fight hard not to burst out crying.
“Okay, we best take this to the bedroom.”
Parker got stiffly to his feet and followed Mason down a short hallway.
“A double bed, nice.”
“This is mom and dad’s room.”
“Uh, should we be in here then?”
“I asked them if we could sleep here.” Mason blushed; he’d not asked Parker if he wanted to sleep with him. He’d just assumed he’d be cool with the idea.
“Wha?”
“Um, we can have separate rooms if you’d rather, I just…” Mason’s spirits began to plummet.
“No, babe, you misunderstood. I was blown away that you’d asked your folks about sleeping in their bed with your boyfriend. I mean, it’s kinda, well, I dunno.” Parker shook his head.
Mason was relieved, Parker wasn’t refusing to share a bed with him, and he’d called him his boyfriend again. “I think part of it has to do with how little time they spend with me. Giving me nice things like the car and letting us sleep together is probably their way of salving their consciences.”
“Sorry, bud. But really they’re not bad people.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Guess I’m still bummed at dad having to work this weekend.”
“But at least it means we can have the place to ourselves.” Parker waggled his eyebrows.
Mason grinned, “Come on, stud, let’s get on with your massage.” Mason unscrewed the cap on the bottle of oil and poured some into his hands and began to warm it. “Should be some large towels in the armoire.” Mason nodded in the direction of the heavy oak cupboard. “I don’t want to stain the sheets.”
“I’m sure you’re an expert at staining the sheets with that stuff.”
Mason blushed; Parker had guessed what he usually used the oil for. As he watched Parker spread the towels, his mind was conflicted. He never tired of looking at Parker, but because his movements were restricted and painful, it caused him concern.
“Okay, strip,” Mason said, taking charge of both the situation and his emotions.
“Huh. You’ve been wanting to get me naked and your hands on me all day.”
“What makes you think I’d be interested in your skinny ass?” Mason asked, as he watched with rapt attention as Parker undressed.
“You find me totally irresistible.”
“Yeah, right.” Mason knew he couldn’t tell Parker how he really felt. It would inflate the football player’s already oversized ego.
The sight of Parker’s naked broad back displaying itself was very arousing, and Mason had been given permission to touch it. He intended to make full use of his opportunity. Kneeling on the side of the bed, Mason brought his oiled hands down onto the warm, firm and slightly sweaty flesh.
“God, you’ve got a great touch,” Parker moaned low in his throat.
Mason leaned down and kissed a spot between Parker’s shoulder blades. “I’m glad I have my uses. Come on, tell me about the game, and how you won it for us.” Mason remembered the talk they’d had the previous Friday when Parker had given an almost play-by-play account of his part in the victory.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested, ooh yeah, that’s it.” Parker wiggled as Mason dug his thumbs into the left side of Parker’s trapezius.
“Of course I’m interested. I think you’re so fucking sexy when you get hold of the ball and run down the field, leaving a trail of players in your wake. You’re like a brave warrior, laying waste everything in your path.” Mason knew he’d gone too far, but his mind was spinning with the awesome sensations of Parker’s skin under his hands.
Parker chuckled. “Is that how you see me? A warrior?”
“Yeah.” In a much lower voice Mason added, “My warrior.”
He only half listened as Parker enthused about the game, his teammates and the weakness of the opposition. He was too caught up in the thrill of touching Parker, caressing his beautiful body, to pay much attention to what he was actually saying. The shallow valley along Parker’s spine seemed to beckon to his fingers, demanding to be worshiped. Mason lightly ran his fingers along the slight bony ridges. Then Mason opened his hands and swept his palms outward and upward, gliding across the glorious topography of Parker’s back. Then his hands swept further to caress the wide, oh so wide shoulders. Moving down, Mason traced the classic V of Parker’s torso as his hands rubbed Parker’s trim waist. The firm mounds of butt flesh came next. Parker’s buttocks were high, tight, with a light dusting of blond fur in the cavern which divided them. Mason wondered if he dare part the tight buns to examine what was inside.
“You enjoying yourself back there?” Parker asked, snapping Mason out of his daydream.
“Sorry,” Mason said, realizing Parker had stopped discussing the game some time earlier.
“So, do I have a skinny ass?”
Mason slapped Parker’s left buttock.
“Bastard.”
“Hey, lie down, I’ve not finished.”
Parker grumbled something about giving someone a toy to play with and them not wanting to give it back. However, he did as he was asked, and Mason resumed his massage.
The heat from Parker’s body had released the lavender in the oil. That, along with the warmth coming from the fire, the flames dully reflecting from Parker’s glistening skin, soon had Mason back in his trance.
Though he’d studied human anatomy in his biology classes, the pictures in the textbooks and the plastic models he’d seen, though instructive, didn’t tell the whole story. Here, touching Parker, made it all much more real. Mason traced Parker’s trapezius muscle from where it began in the mid back, up to the shoulder blades. He then followed the muscle over Parker’s wide shoulders to his collarbone. Tracing the traps into Parker’s scalp, he felt tension.
“Have you been having some pain here?”
“Uh, yeah. How did you know?”
Mason dug into the tightness with his thumbs, he felt the muscle resist before finally submitting. Mason could feel Parker’s body relaxing. He smiled.
“Wow, you’ve got a fantastic touch. You ought to take this up full time.”
“Thanks. I’m gonna take pre-med in college and follow in Mom’s footsteps.”
“Dr. Mason Grant. Yeah, that has a real ring to it.”
Closing his eyes, Mason conjured up a diagram of the human back and figured out where to find Parker’s latissimus dorsi. There it was, attached to the hipbones. He followed the muscle up Parker’s back and up until it disappeared into his armpits. Again Mason felt the occasional knot, which he smoothed away.
As Parker seemed content to act as a kind of human biology specimen, Mason probed deeper to locate Parker’s
rhomboids. Sure enough, he found them exhibiting their classic Christmas tree shape. As he felt around in Parker’s shoulder for the levator scapula attachment, he mused about having Parker stripped to the waist and sitting at the front of Mr. Becker’s biology class. The grey haired teacher could use Parker’s amazing physique as an anatomy model. But the thought of having others looking at and drooling over Parker’s beautiful body didn’t hold any appeal. No, he wanted Parker all to himself.
Mason was so concentrated on the task of locating and tracing Parker’s erector spinae muscles, he hadn’t realized his patient had stopped talking. Pausing the massage, Mason softly asked, “You okay?”
Parker’s only reply was a soft snore.
“Must be my scintillating company.” But Mason wasn’t downhearted.
Parker had played hard during the game; he seemed to be on the field a lot of the time. He’d have to remember to ask sometime why Parker played both offense and defense.
Deciding he’d done all he could, Mason used a towel to wipe the excess oil from Parker’s skin.
“And to think I’d been hoping for a night of sex and passion,” Mason said just above a whisper as he tucked a comforter around the softly snoring athlete.
Mason visited the bathroom to relieve both his bladder and his aching balls, before going back into the bedroom.
“You still asleep?” Mason asked softly.
There was no reply.
Climbing into the bed, Mason propped himself up on an elbow and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. “I know you don’t feel the same, but I’ve fallen in love with you, Parker Collins.” Mason sniffed back a tear.
* * * *
The first thing Mason became aware of when his mind began to drift into wakefulness was the smell of bacon. Opening his eyes, he quickly closed them again. The drapes had been drawn back, letting in the morning sunlight, which at that elevation and time of year, meant the sun was shining directly into his eyes. He didn’t have long, however, to gather his wits before the bedroom door opened.
“Rise and shine,” Parker announced in an irritatingly cheerful voice.
“Urr! What time is it?”
