At one point, Clay slowed down at the top of a low rise, and turned onto a side road made of dirt that didn’t have any name. There, he turned off the engine and they got out to crane their necks and take in the soft furrow of the Milky Way, streaming across the sky.
Austin took Clay’s hand and kissed his fingers and knew that he was glad he’d said yes to Clay, yes to the job. Yes, to a new life. If only he didn’t have to lose Bea when Mona wanted her back, then he might have been happy all the way through instead of hitting a wall of anticipated grief.
Clay, perhaps sensing these dark thoughts, made himself the little spoon, pulling Austin’s arms around him, leaning back against Austin’s chest. As they looked up, Austin kissed the side of Clay’s neck, lightly, because he didn’t quite have permission, but could’t help himself.
Clay pressed back and back until Austin was against the truck, then turned around, pressing his front to Austin’s front. Their hips met, snug and close, and while Austin started with surprise, he didn’t move or push Clay away.
“Romantic, no?” asked Clay, sounding suave and silly all at once. “Two guys making out beneath the stars—”
“Like teenagers,” said Austin, half gasping, half laughing as he looped his arms around Clay’s waist. “What’s our age, again?”
“I think we’re, like, eighteen,” said Clay, smiling as he kissed Austin, then frowned as though working the image through. “We’re horny as hell and shouldn’t be out this late.”
“I remember.” Austin pulled Clay close, tipping his head back to rest against a panel of Laydbelle’s truck cab.
Clay let him and sighed, as if revealing in this closeness, in the warmth of Austin’s chest and thighs and yes, the growing heat of his groin, which Austin could feel, even if it wouldn’t amount to much.
Clay tipped his chin to let Austin kiss him along his neck and when Austin did, steady and sure of himself, Clay shivered and leaned into Austin’s shoulder. He looked up at Austin, his etched against the darker night, his blue eyes lit with starlight, a curve to his mouth.
“Eighteen year olds also do a lot of groping,” said Clay, nudging Austin’s chin with his forehead. “I’ll start, if that’s okay.”
“I remember that, too,” said Austin. “But standing?”
“Yeah,” said Clay, nodding as he pulled Austin’s arm from around his waist. “And fully dressed. You grab me, an’ I grab you. It’ll be hot. Hot like the sun.”
Austin tensed against Clay and then he took a breath and let it out in a whoosh. The sound faded into the dark, into the whir of the night breeze across the grasses, the rustle of trees along the low bank of a slow moving river at the bottom of the slope where they’d parked.
“If I start?” asked Austin, quietly. “Will you follow?”
“Yes,” said Clay, his heart in his voice.
Clay held himself quite still, inhaling slowly as Austin held Clay against his chest like a damsel and kissed him. As Austin kissed him, he trailed his fingers down Clay’s front, tugging at Clay’s belt buckle, playing, teasing, before reaching down between Clay’s thighs.
The touch felt hesitant to Austin, but Clay stayed still for a minute before barking out a laugh.
“Did I tickle you?” asked Austin, kissing Clay’s ear.
“Nope,” said Clay, smiling, turning his head so Austin could kiss him on the mouth. “I was just thinking I’d give you a helping hand an’ it made me laugh. Just keep going, an’ then I’ll go.”
Austin pressed his hand against Clay’s cock and rubbed, gently, then a little harder, then gently again, which got Clay hard inside of a heartbeat or two. When he returned the favor, swirling his fingers along Austin’s cock, trying to find his way through the layers of denim and cotton, Austin could feel a twitch, feel some warmth, and Clay kept going, doing what Austin was doing, gentle then hard, gentle than hard.
It was almost too much to be able to concentrate, what with Clay’s sturdy fingers doing what they were doing, and the little sounds Clay made as Austin tugged and pulled on him.
“Something there,” said Austin, the words muffled as he gasped for breath.
“Soft or hard?” asked Clay, to clarify the situation, kissing the corners of Austin’s mouth, licking Austin’s lower lip, sighing when Austin sighed.
“Hard,” said Austin, his body shuddering at Clay’s insistent touches. “I like it hard.”
A breeze came up, chilly and full of the scent of faraway rain. It seemed to push Clay against Austin’s body, then Clay reached between them, pressing with his fingers, halfway gripping the base of Austin’s cock—mock squeezing before letting go to cup his hands between Austin’s thighs and push up with his fingertips to surround Austin’s balls with a pulsing grip-and-let-go motion.
Austin shuddered a groan, hardly believing that what they were doing was so simple but seemed to be putting them on the right track. Clay it again, trying to stay in a standing position as Austin copied the gesture and used it right back. Their rhythm, on again, off again, was in sync, their bodies warm against each other, the breeze cool on their warm skins.
When Austin felt Clay’s body, Clay’s cock hard against his belly, Clay seemed to hesitate, as though he was deciding whether it was okay for him to come if Austin couldn’t—then it was too late, so Clay held the flat of Austin’s palm against his pulsing cock, letting him feel it, letting the rhythm of it soak into Austin’s body.
“Oh.” Austin sighed into Clay’s mouth, a tender flick of his tongue against Clay’s tongue. “Oh.”
“Good, huh?” asked Clay, tugging at his pants as Austin wrapped both of his arms around Clay’s waist, pulling Clay to him once more. “Except now I got more laundry to do.”
