“You have a car?”
“It’s nothing fancy. It’s parked on Ryan’s street because there’s no restrictions. He moves it once a week for me when they do street cleaning.”
Patrick was like an atom about to split, his excitement practically vibrating off him.
Spencer pulled him by the tie and kissed him, something he’d been wanting to do ever since they began commuting together. It wasn’t that he was into fall; he was into Patrick being into fall.
He took a step back and raked his eyes over Patrick, who always looked dead sexy in his professional attire. He scratched at his stubble. “Patrick, correct me if I’m wrong, but this is not proper fall attire.”
“You’re right.” Realization swept over his neighbor. “I think it’s time for me to break out my sweaters.”
Patrick went back to his apartment to change. Spencer waited in the hall because if he was around a half-naked Patrick, then they’d never leave his apartment. A day of constant sex with Patrick wuld be a-OK with him, but they couldn’t squander such perfect fall weather.
Two minutes later, Patrick returned to the hall wearing jeans, a corduroy jacket, and a striped sweater that was a mix of faded reds, oranges, yellows, and purples. He tousled his hair to give it a relaxed look, strands falling into his eyes.
Spencer gulped back a lump in his throat, overcome with a feeling that on anyone else, he would’ve described as mushy; for him, it was the feeling of his heart finding peace, of believing without hesitation that there was no other place he was meant to be.
* * *
Even though Spencer’sdriving foot wasn’t in a boot, to be safe, Patrick drove. Spencer set his Google Maps coordinates to an apple orchard just over the border in Wisconsin. He didn’t know if he could remember the name of the apple orchard, but it all started coming back to him now that fall was on his mind all the damn time.
“It’s beautiful up here!” Patrick said as they drove down empty country roads flanked by trees with red and orange leaves. Since they were further up north, fall was more apparent. In the distance were empty fields framed by the cloudy sky. Spencer saw the beauty in such gloom. The gray sky let the colors on the leaves flourish and gave everything a warm, nostalgic tint.
They pulled into a small, family-run apple orchard. Rows of short, stubby apple trees stretched out in a field. Lots of green dotted with glimmers of red. Patrick parked the car by the MacIntosh row and immediately darted into the thick of trees. Spencer limped as fast as he could to catch up. At this point, he had gotten good at walking with crutches - maybe so good that he didn’t need Patrick’s help at the El station, but he would keep that to himself.
“What do you think, babe?”
“This place is amazing.” Patrick plucked an apple off a tree and smelled it.
“Does it smell like your apple candles?”
“The real thing is always better.” He dropped the apple in the bag. Patrick looked up at the trees, the sky, the outer reaches of the field. Spencer could feel his mind working overtime to capture this all to memory.
“I am having a fallgasm. This is the perfect day for apple picking.”
“Oh, we’re not stopping at apple picking.” Spencer pulled a bulbous, low-hanging apple off a shoulder-level branch. As so often happened, the force of plucking an apple caused two more apples to fall off their branches onto the ground, where they would join the rotting mash of their fallen brethren.
“There’s more?”
“After apple picking, we are going to a corn maze and then I’m taking you to the farm that has the best donuts you’ve ever had in your life.” Spencer prepared himself for lots of Patrick moans.
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit is right. We gotta take advantage of this fall day while we have it.” Spencer was being over-the-top, but he was believing his own hype. This was a perfect fall day, and fall was so fleeting, like all good things. They had to grab onto it.
And Patrick grabbed onto Spencer, pulling him close for a kiss that set off fireworks in his head. Patrick’s lips crushed against him with intensity and purpose. They backed into a tree, causing more apples to fall.
“Shit,” Spencer said.
“It’s fine. They’ll get turned into cider. Oh, we’ll have to pick up a jug of that today, too.” Patrick resumed the make-out session, filling Spencer’s mouth with the heat of his tongue and running his hands down his chest, past his abs, to palm his dick over his corduroys. Patrick taking control turned Spencer on even more. He let out a growly laugh against Spencer’s lips that drove him wild.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked when Patrick unzipped his fly.
“What does it look like? There’s no one around.” Patrick led Spencer by the shirt so they were hidden between MacIntosh trees. He slipped his hand into Spencer’s jeans and stroked his aching cock that was begging to be freed from his tightening boxer-briefs.
“Baby, yes,” Spencer said. His crutches fell from under his arms into the mash of apples. He held onto a thick branch just above him, causing yet more apples to fall.
Patrick dropped to his knees and looked up at him with those gleaming green eyes, filled with hunger and a deeper feeling that hit Spencer in his heart. Patrick took control; all Spencer had to do was hold on. He pushed his jeans and underwear down to his knees, the crisp fall air hitting his exposed cock for a second before it disappeared into the heat of Patrick’s mouth.
