by Drew Hunt
“To go to college I gotta get a football scholarship. And to get that I need to play. They wouldn’t let a limp-wristed fag on the field.”
“But, you’re not a limp-wristed fag…” Mason shook his head. So much was wrong with what Parker said.
“The tough guy shit is designed to keep people away, or at least keep them from guessing that I’m more than just a football jock. Don’t get me wrong, I love football, the team spirit, the buzz when we win a game. Even the macho B/S is fun.”
“But there’s a lot more to you than all that.” Mason interjected. “The gentle, caring needing-to-be-held Parker Collins is a much nicer, more approachable guy than the super straight, my-shit-don’t-stink Parker Collins everybody sees at school.”
Parker laughed. “Exactly, but I choose not to show people those other aspects of me. The Parker people see at school isn’t approachable. Okay, some of the meatheads on the team think they know me, but they don’t, and that’s just the way I like it.”
“Why? I wish more people could see the, well the sweet, kind, genuine Parker.”
Parker leaned forward and kissed Mason’s cheek. “Thanks, babe.”
“Won’t you at least try and ease off a little? Can’t some people get to know just some of the other Parker?
“But if they knew, they could hurt me. I don’t mean physically or hurt my chances of getting to college, but they could hurt the me inside.”
“I don’t understand,” Mason finally admitted.
“You’ve probably heard of the alpha male. I’m not saying I’m one of those necessarily, but from what I’ve read, an alpha likes being in control in certain situations, at work, say. But at home, or whatever, he likes for someone else to be in charge. I think that’s the best way I can explain it.”
“I see.” Mason wasn’t sure he did. What Parker said sort of made sense, but he’d have to give it more thought.
“Wanna climb further, or is my wimpy soccer bud not up to it?” Parker’s smile let Mason know their serious discussion was at an end.
“Huh. You think you football players are such hot shit.”
“That’s cause we are,” Parker said, rising to his feet and offering a hand to Mason, who thought of a number of suitable comebacks, but decided to bide his time.
They walked for another hour, this time much more companionably, even holding hands when the trail permitted.
“I think this is as good a place as any,” Mason said, when they came upon a large flat rock overlooking a fast-flowing stream.
“Yep, looks great,” Parker replied, taking off his backpack and setting it down on the rock. “Great idea to bring lunch. The climb has given me a real appetite.”
“Yeah, me too.”
They unwrapped their sandwiches, popped the tops on a couple of cans of soda, and opened a large bag of potato chips.
“Bet that water’s cold,” Parker said, nodding at the stream.
“Trust me, it is. Mountain fed water is always cold.”
“Looks clean though.”
“I guess. Never tried drinking it.”
After Parker had drained his soda he walked over to the stream and filled the can. “Shit, it is cold,” he said, blowing on his hands. “Tastes good, though.” He handed the can to Mason, who took a drink.
Their hike had taken them round the hillside, into the sun’s path and out of the breeze. Mason estimated the temperature to be in the upper sixties. He yawned.
“What’s up, you didn’t get enough sleep last night?”
“Huh. I wasn’t the one who zonked out after getting a massage.”
“I’d had a hard game. And you give one hell of a back rub.”
Mason felt it was warm enough to take off his jacket. He stood, folded it and put it on the grass and lay down, using it as a pillow. Parker chose to do the same, but used Mason’s chest as his pillow. Mason didn’t object; he soon began to run his fingers through Parker’s hair, an action which they had discovered helped relax the both of them.
“It’s great up here,” Parker finally said.
“Yeah. I often come here when the folks are at the cabin.
“Ever brought anyone with you? To the cabin I mean.”
“Nope, never found anyone I wanted to bring.”
Parker lifted up and gave Mason a kiss. Once he’d settled himself again, he began to rub circles with the palm of his hand on Mason’s wool-covered belly.
“Fuck, I’d forgotten how big Mount Rainier actually is.”
“Yeah.” Mason continued to stroke Parker’s hair. “And if you look over there you can see Mount Hood, and the one with the top cut off it is Mount St. Helens.”
The two boys fell into silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun, each other’s company and the spectacular mountain view.
* * * *
The sun was sinking toward the horizon by the time Parker and Mason made it back to the cabin.
“What’s for supper?” Parker asked.
“Dunno, what would you like?” The gleam in Parker’s eye told Mason food wasn’t foremost on his boyfriend’s mind. “Horn-dog!”
“What can I say, you’re so irresistible.”
“And you’re so full of shit. Mom packed some burgers and hot dogs, if you want those.”
“What about really getting back to the wild and catching our own supper?”
“Huh?”
“Fish, Mase, fish. You know, those slippery wet things that live in the water just outside.” Parker pointed his thumb in the general direction of the lake.
“Uh. Well, I’m not sure if it’s still trout season “
“Come on, man, live dangerously. Who’s around to see us and call the cops, anyway?”
Mason knew he was always too uptight about sticking to the rules. Parker was right, who would see. The nearest cabin was at least a quarter mile away and probably unoccupied. “Okay, do you know how to fish?”
“Nope, haven’t got a clue,” Parker said, sideling over to Mason and beginning to rub his friend’s back. “But I bet my big, strong protector knows.” Parker licked Mason’s left ear.
Mason would have melted into a puddle if Parker weren’t holding him up. “Okay, anything you say.”
“Anything? Hmm.” Parker licked Mason’s ear a second time.
Mason groaned.
Parker slowly let go of Mason, but all the while maintained eye contact, staring longingly at him. “Get out your pole, Mase.” The slow and lecherous way Parker spoke had Mason’s heart beating faster.
Finding the fishing rods and baiting the hooks took some time, especially as Parker insisted on being demonstrative in his affections. “But why aren’t we using a fly?” Parker asked.
“You’re a beginner. There’s an art to fly fishing, and as we want to eat sometime today, I think it’s best we use power bait.”
“Uh-huh.” Parker nuzzled Mason’s neck.
“Stop it, you horn-dog. I nearly cut my finger on this hook.”
“I want to hook you, Mase. Reel you in and eat you all up,” Parker moaned into Mason’s ear.
For the next few minutes the fishing rods, bobbers and bait were forgotten as Mason and Parker got down to some serious, heavy petting. It was only the rumbling of Parker’s stomach that reminded them that they were hungry.
Standing at the lake, Mason began to demonstrate the finer points of casting.
“No, Park, like this,” Mason said, taking hold of Parker’s hand. “Draw it back, then cast forward in one fluid movement. It’s all in the wrist action.”
Parker stared at Mason with a raised eyebrow. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”
“No, just the ones I want to catch me.”
Parker snickered. “You smooth-tongued devil, you.”
“Hey, look, you’ve got a bite!” Mason said, pointing at the float bobbing in the water.
“Shit, what do I do? Quick, Mason, do something, I don’t want it to get away.”
Mason helped Parker land the f
ish, a fourteen-inch trout. “Huh, beginners luck,” Mason said after he’d unhooked the fish.
“Crap. You’re just sore that I caught a fish and you didn’t. I’m da-man,” Parker said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.
Looking at his boyfriend, Mason wondered where the vulnerable, needing-to-be-held Parker had gone. His lover sure was one complex mix of contradictions.
They fished for another half hour, Parker catching two more fish only slightly smaller than his first. Mason snagged just one, a fact Parker wouldn’t stop taunting Mason about.
As it was now completely dark, Mason said they ought to call it a day. He was starving and in his opinion they had enough fish for their supper.
“Sure you don’t want more time to try and beat me?”
“No, I’m quite happy to have you be the winner.”
“Yes! I am the champion fisherman. Is there a prize?”
“Yeah, you get to eat the fish,” Mason said, reeling in his line.
“No, I mean a real prize,” Parker pouted.
Mason shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling at his boyfriend’s behavior. “We’ll see.”
* * * *
“Do you know what to do with the fish so we can eat them?” Parker asked once they’d stowed away the fishing rods in the lean-to shed at the side of the cabin.
“Uh, not really, though I’ve seen dad do it loads of times.”
The two fixed supper. Mason cleaned the fish, then Parker coated them in flour and fried them along with some potatoes in a large skillet. The fish, potatoes, a can of peas and several bottles of Mr. Grant’s beer formed supper.
Parker wanted to eat outside on the porch, but by the time supper was over, the temperatures had dropped significantly, and Mason was beginning to shiver. However, Parker seemed not to want to go inside.
“It’s amazing out here. You’re so lucky to have this place. It’s so quiet, there’s no one around to bother you, or to stick their nose into your business.”
“Yeah, I know. Because we’re so far from city lights, the stars always seem to shine brighter.” Mason pointed to the far horizon. “Look over there.”
“Venus? Wow, it’s so clear.”
“I know.” The Roman goddess of love…“Come on, let’s go inside, it’s freezing out here.”
* * * *
By silent mutual consent the pair decided there was little point in lighting a fire in the main room, as both seemed anxious to move straight to the bedroom. The sexual tension, Mason knew, had been building all afternoon. Parker had used every opportunity he could to touch, and Mason hadn’t been slow in reciprocating. It therefore took Mason twice as long as usual to lay the fire in the bedroom.
“At last I have your undivided attention,” Parker said, lifting Mason to his feet after he’d struck the match and the fire had taken hold.
Parker began to undress Mason, kissing, licking and sucking at his flesh as it became exposed. Mason tried to undress Parker, but the stronger teen fended him off.
“No, this is all for you, Mase.” After the last item of clothing had been stepped out of, Parker lifted Mason off his feet and carried him over to the bed, laying him down on top of the blankets. “Tonight, babe, we’re going to make love.”
Mason shivered; he doubted it was because the room hadn’t fully warmed up. He was forced to watch as Parker slowly--agonizingly slowly--disrobed.
“You get off on my muscles, don’t you?”
Parker did a double biceps pose, then kissed each raised muscle in turn. Mason wasn’t sure of the proper name for many of the poses Parker struck; all he knew was he loved every one of them.
Parker then bent over the bed and took hold of Mason’s left foot. To the smaller guy’s amazement, he began to suck on Mason’s toes.
“Oh, shit,” Mason moaned. It felt erotic, arousing, amazing.
“I’m gonna make love to every part of your body, Mase. I’m gonna show you just how special you are to me.”
And Parker did exactly that. For the next goodness knew how long, Mason was transported into a world of pleasure, of sensual caresses, of unimagined sensations. However, he was only vaguely aware that Parker never touched his straining member. When realization finally sank into his lust-fogged consciousness, Mason reached for his sex and began to stroke it.
“No, baby. I’m gonna take care of that.” Parker wasn’t firm or demanding, he didn’t slap Mason’s hand away, but Mason was left with the distinct impression Parker would be hurt if Mason brought himself off through his own hand.
“Please, I need it, I need to…”
“You sure you’re ready?”
“Yeah, man. Please.”
Mason watched as Parker leaned to the side and held up a condom. His heart began to beat faster; at last he’d have his gorgeous football player inside him. Mason followed every movement as Parker’s strong white teeth closed over the rim of the foil packet and tore it open. This was gonna happen, his man was going to make love to him. Mason felt tears sting his eyes. Then Parker did something totally unexpected. He rolled the rubber down Mason’s dick.
“Huh?”
“Just putting the raincoat on, baby. We have to, you know, STDs and all that.”
“Yes, but…”
“How do you want us to do this?”
“Uh?” Mason knew he sounded dumb, but couldn’t shake himself out of his confusion.
“Mason, babe, what’s wrong?”
“Uh.” Why the fuck do I keep saying that? Mason mentally slapped himself. “I sorta thought I’d, or you’d or…”
“You want me to be the pitcher?”
“Well, uh, I thought you would be, but, well if you’d rather…”
“I’d really like it if you’d fuck me, Mase. It’s sorta what I like.”
Is this really happening? he thought. “Uh, okay. Are you um, lubed up?” Mason winced at sounding so clinical.
“Not yet.” Parker got the bottle of lube, poured some out and quickly inserted two fingers up his ass. “Ready.”
“Uh?” Mason groaned to himself, Stop sounding like a total dumbass.
From the couple other encounters he’d had, the lubing up seemed to take a while, what with the stretching and everything.
Parker, obviously thinking he needed to take charge, moved himself over Mason and began to squat. Before Mason was able to comment, he was balls deep inside Parker. Again this was nothing like his previous experiences.
Parker experimentally moved up and down a couple of times, sending Mason’s thoughts flying. Nature seemed to take over, and he found himself thrusting upward.
“Yeah, man! Fuck me harder, come on, Mase!”
Parker’s continual dirty talk had its desired effect. Mason shot his load into the rubber, but when his orgasm subsided, he felt somehow cheated, unfulfilled, unhappy.
“Parker?” Mason asked once the big jock had dealt with the used condom.
“Yeah?”
“Um, I…Well I don’t know how to say this, and…But…Well…It all seemed to happen quickly, I mean I slid in easy, you were, oh, shit.” Mason felt his cheeks burning bright red.
Parker was quiet; Mason hoped desperately that he hadn’t hurt his feelings.
“I’m sorry, that came out all wrong.” Mason crawled over to Parker, who was lying on his back, and put an arm over him.
“No, it’s all right. I didn’t want…I didn’t think…What I mean is…I was hoping you wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Noticed?”
“That I’d had lots of experience of being fucked.”
“Well, uh…I…”
“Please, Mase, please just hold me. I don’t feel good.”
“Of course, anything you say.” Mason didn’t have a clue what was going on. All he knew was that his friend was hurting, and he wanted to fix it.
Parker took several deep breaths.
“You feeling any better?” Mason asked quietly.
; “Some.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything, I mean what happened before we, um, before I became your boyfriend. Well…that isn’t any of my business.”
“It is. I want to tell you, I should have told you before, but I thought you’d think less of me.”
“Hey, I could never do that!”
Parker sniffed. “Thanks.”
The two fell quiet again, Mason continuing to stroke Parker’s hair.
“As I said, I’ve had a lot of sex,” Parker eventually said.
Uh huh.” Mason didn’t want to pry, but he couldn’t help being interested.
“Well I…That is…Oh, shit this isn’t easy. During the summer last year, a friend of the family stayed at our place. His mom and my mom grew up together, and…”
“So?”
“Well, uh, the guy, Kurt, had to stay in my room, and, uh, we had sex.”
“Parker, there’s no problem here. I wasn’t expecting you to be a virgin. I’ve done it with a couple of guys, but…” Mason sensed Parker didn’t want to hear about what he’d been up to.
“I know, but Kurt was twenty, and straight. He managed to persuade me to mess around some, and…one thing led to another, and he started fucking me.”
“Oh, right. You say he’s twenty? He didn’t force you or anything? Legally what he did was rape.”
“Shit, no. Look at the size of me. No one’s gonna do stuff to me that I don’t agree to.”
“Well, uh, yeah, suppose.” Mason found it hard to balance all the new information he’d received about Parker. Yeah, he was big and strong, but he was vulnerable, too.
“What’s not so good is that I really got to like it when he fucked me. But I knew that’s all it ever was. Kurt has a girlfriend back at college. He said he was just horny, and a moist hole is a moist hole.”
Mason winced. The more he heard about Kurt, the less he liked him.
“I enjoyed the sex, but I realized I wanted more. When he’d come, Kurt would just get off me and go to his own bed. There was never any cuddling or kissing. When I tried kissing him once, he called me a fag.”
“Fuck. I hope you kicked the shit out of him.”
“No. I’d started to get some real strong feelings for him,” Parker sniffed again. “In fact I thought I loved him. But he didn’t feel the same about me. I’m sorry.” Parker began to blink rapidly and sniffed a couple more times. “I’m not gonna cry, shit, it’s so fucking girly to cry.”
