Boys Becoming Men - 1. Chapter 1

Heavy raindrops pelted the jeep’s roof with an angry consistency, while the wind howled loudly as Liam guided the jeep down a long and slippery dirt road towards home.

A massive storm was due to hit in a few hours, but the current weather blowing outside felt like the storm had already arrived. Liam shuddered as he imagined how bad the weather would further deteriorate once the storm had actually hit.

His home wasn’t lucky during the last one, tearing the roof apart and bringing down a nearby tree that collapsed onto one end of the house. Thankfully no one from his family was hurt, but the cleanup and re-building afterwards was a difficult period. But he counted his family fortunate considering many of the other families in the area had been hit worst. Matters were made worse by scavengers who were the first in when the storm moved away to steal many of their neighborhood's belongings.

But that didn't concern him as much as the safety of his family. He couldn't shake the image of his mother and siblings curled up in one corner of the kitchen helplessly while the wind roared and ripped through their house.

It was the stuff of nightmares.

The feeling of not being able to do anything, while looking into the eyes of his family, and knowing that their lives could possibly end if the storm further deteriorated, was more than he could handle. But despite his protestations, he eventually relented to stay during the last storm since his mother insisted with all her might that they all ride it out at home.

She didn't want to leave the house, but also couldn't bear the thought of her children being far away from her.

His mother hadn’t been the same since their father passed away. She grew increasingly attached to the house, floating aimlessly from one room to another, and spending a lot of her time fixing it up. He knew it was her way of keeping their dad alive since they had built it together in their younger days before they had any of them kids. Sometimes he'd catch her in her room silently weeping while holding onto one of their fathers well-worn jackets. It wasn't a surprise when their mother once again insisted they ride out the storm at home.

Even if it put their lives in danger.

This storm was predicted to be worse than the last. He decided that he wasn’t going to take any chances and tried to convince his mother that it would be best for them to listen to the authorities and temporarily vacate their home until the worst of the storm was over. It was a mission.

“B-but what if a thief comes and steals our valued possessions?” Liam’s mother cried.

He raised an eyebrow. They didn’t have anything of value housed under their home. And who the hell would want to go thieving around in this weather anyhow, he wondered to himself.

But he knew it was because it always pained her to leave it.

“Don’t worry mom, I'm staying behind to make sure nobody steals any of our belongings. In the meantime, hurry and pack up you and the kids’ stuff, I’ll drive you to the train station. I’ve spoken to Uncle Tom, he’s confirmed to pick you up. But you better hurry or else you’ll miss the last train outta here!”

After much further convincing and reassurances that he’d be okay alone, Liam finally managed to cart his mother and younger siblings into the car and drove them to the packed train station. After a prolonged farewell, where his mother was on the verge of changing her mind and dragging them all back home, they were finally on their way.

He waved goodbye as the train slowly pulled away.

Lost in a myriad of thoughts, he was brought back to the present when a lone dark figure pelted across the dirt road in the thick pouring rain. He slammed his foot on the break and swerved hard. The next thing he remembered was a searing pain as his head connected with the steering wheel, followed by warm liquid running down his head.

Then blackness'

***

Liam slowly opened his eyes. It hurt. His head was lying on something warm. Moving. His eyes focused, and he saw dark chocolate brown eyes peering down at him.

His eyes slowly took in the face that the eyes belonged to – a young fellow, with deep set eyes that narrowed curiously at him, and a strong set jaw that tensed ever so slightly upon seeing the fast drying blood on his shirt. The stranger quickly ran his hand through his messy dark wet hair and bit his lip. The juiciest full lips he'd ever seen on anybody.

Heck, he thought. Did I just think his lips were juicy? This lad didn’t look much older than himself. Late teens, definitely. He realized he was lying on the lap of this stranger in his own car. Being driven to God knows where. He sat up gingerly and his head swam.

“Who the hell are you?” Liam managed to say.

“I’m not a psycho killer if that's what you're wondering. Your jeep veered into the bushes and you hit your head pretty hard on your steering wheel. You lost a bit of blood. It wasn’t a deep cut, but I’m more worried that you might have a concussion,” the stranger said in his surprisingly low baritone voice. Silky smooth, Liam thought, unexpected considering how young this stranger looked.

“Yeah, that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t run in front of my damn car!”

“Sorry about that, my car died on me further down the road and I had no choice but to run to find some shelter," the stranger continued in his deep warm and unperturbed voice. “I didn’t expect anyone to be driving around.”

“What the hell are you doing out here anyway? Are you a thief?” Liam’s voice raised an octave. Maybe his mother was right after all.

“A thief? Why the hell would you think that? No, I’m a volunteer for the local police department. We’ve been instructed to knock on people’s doors to see if anybody needs a lift to the shelter before the storm hits. The sheriff specifically told me to seek out the Miller family out these ways since it’s a bit farther out than most people, and were some of the few who refused to leave their homes during the last storm,” the stranger explained.

Liam could only manage an “Oh.”

“I’m guessing you’re the Miller family in question. I rustled through your wallet to see who you were, I hope you don’t mind. I’m Paul by the way. And you’re Liam. Are you alright?”

Liam’s head started to throb. He ignored the introduction as well as Paul’s question. “We best turn around, I’m supposed to stay at my place and ride out the storm, I already made sure my family left the house –“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before the jeep abruptly came to a halt.

An old oak tree had fallen into the path of the narrow road and there was no way the jeep could possibly maneuver around it. The strong winds had finally managed to bring the mighty oak down, an oak that had been standing for years and had witnessed many storms that had preceded the oncoming one.

“Dammit!" Paul said slamming his palms onto the steering wheel in frustration. "Are you KIDDING me? Now what the hell are we supposed to do?” his voice rose with agitation. “The storm will hit in a couple of hours, and we need to get to shelter.”

“Looks like we’ll have to drive back to my place A.S.A.P.” Liam offered. “It’s the closest shelter we’ve got, and I’ve got supplies to last me a few weeks! Plus I’ve already battered down what needs battering, and I’ve secured anything that might go flying about.”

Paul’s dark brown eyes grew darker and he nodded silently, conceding that was probably the best option. There was no way they could make it to the shelter by walking from here. Considering what happened earlier, he didn’t want to risk their lives on the road in the low visibility outside. Not to mention that hail had begun to fall making the temperature drop even further.

In any case, he didn’t think it would be wise for Liam to go walking anywhere in his state.

Liam.

Paul snuck a quick glance in his direction. A handsome face, he thought. Aristocratic features; straight nose, somewhat high cheek bones, thin upper lip in stark contrast to the more fuller lower lip, and from what he could tell, seemingly kind light colored eyes, a shade he wasn’t able to confirm in the fast gathering darkness outside. And his hair was a mix of dark and light browns, the kind you wouldn’t mind running your hands through.

He felt an uncomfortable hardening in his loins, just as uncomfortable when it happened earlier when this stranger was lying on his lap. He shifted to hide the unwelcomed burgeoning in his pants. What the hell, he wondered; why in the world would I get a hard-on in such an awkward moment, while thinking about the lad next to him?

He quickly discounted it as a general attraction to a certain quality he enjoyed in his women; a fragility and vulnerability that made him want to offer them the world. He was the only boy in a family of women, and because his father too died at a young age, he was left with no choice but to be the man of the house.

Unbeknown to him, the respect he had for his sisters and mother, as well as the instinctive protectiveness that he always felt towards them, had become a blueprint for how he would eventually treat the women he dated. And God knows how those bloody women have used that to their advantage.

When he cleaned the cut on Liam’s head and laid him down onto his lap whilst he driving the jeep towards the shelter, he couldn't help but notice how vulnerable he was unconscious, with blood stains on his shirt. That brought out the protectiveness in him, he reasoned. And okay, he acknowledged, maybe vulnerability turned him on a tad bit -- it's nice to be needed in some way, in whatever dire form that situation presented itself with.

He promptly brought the car about and battled the increasingly heavy rainfall and gathering wind hurtling back down the dirt road towards Liam’s home.

***

Liam shut the door with difficulty against the strong westerly wind blowing directly to the front of the house. Both he and Paul were soaked to the bone and were glad to finally be out of the extreme wet and cold and into the much warmer and dry house.

Paul dropped his backpack on the floor and stretched, trying hard to fight the numbing coldness.

“I’ve got some clothes you can change into,” Liam said as he led his unexpected guest to his room.

They slowly climbed the stairs in silence, both careful not to slip on the trail of water that dripped from their soaking clothes. Lacking anything to say, Paul cast his eyes around the house slowly taking everything in.

Liam's home had a warm airy feel, and despite the fact they were shrouded in semi-darkness, he couldn't help but feel the welcoming vibe the place emanated. The walls and paneling were painted in two alternating hues of light and dark blue, and the ceiling was surprisingly high adding to the spaciousness.

The staircase was made from oak wood that creaked beneath their feet as they made their way up. He noticed that some of the walls were covered in framed photographs, many of a lone man who bore a striking resemblance to Liam. It was without a doubt Liam’s father.

He had a strong feeling Liam's father had passed away considering the many photographs of the man that hung on the walls. He suddenly felt sad. Something in common they have... a father who died. He suddenly wondered how Liam's father passed. Sensing that he was being studied carefully as they climbed the stairs, he tried to ease the growing awkwardness.

"Nice place you've got."

"Thanks," Liam said with modesty as they made it to the top, "It's not much, but its home."

They were looking down a short wide hallway. Down the end was a tall window that was boarded up from the outside where they could just make out the whistling wind through a small gap.

Liam turned to the first room on the left and opened it.

"This is my room," he said, flicking on the light switch, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He hurriedly picked up his clothes that lay strewn on the floor. He generally wasn't a messy person, but with the oncoming storm, cleaning his room was the last thing on his list of priorities. He had to board up the house by himself, buy supplies to last the storm, as well as complete a million other pressing chores.

After rustling through his drawers for a towel and some clothes, he pointed the way to the bathroom for Paul to change.

“That’s fine, I’ll get changed here.”

Liam wasn't prepared for what came next, or how his body reacted. For reasons unknown to him, he couldn’t take his eyes off Paul as he peeled away his soaking wet t-shirt.

Lo and behold, before him stood a boy who, for all he knew, was a male model who posed in glossy magazines. A boy who probably walked the catwalks for Calvin Klein. No, that didn’t do him justice. This guy could pass for a Grecian God.

He was a tall lithe figure, with a well defined torso; hard pectorals that glistened with wetness, his wide muscled arms in all its sinewy glory moving with purpose to remove his t-shirt, thus revealing his v-shaped chest that tapered down to his small yet washboard hard stomach. And God, those abs. Those bulging abs. This kid probably lived in the gym!

But judging from how tanned he looked, and not to mention the flash of calloused hands, he had a strong feeling Paul worked on the farm regularly. He also noticed a trail of hair on his stomach that thickened ever so slightly the lower he gazed. He could just make out the beginning of Paul's pubic region due to the precariously low hanging jeans that clung loosely to his hips.

Liam felt a sudden wave of lightheadedness come over him, and before he could steady himself, he stumbled forward. Strong arms suddenly encircled him and held him in place, while concerned eyes peered down at him.

"Liam, are you alright?"

Before he could answer, Paul picked him up in one swift motion like a sack of potatoes and carried him to his bed. He became indignant. "Oi! Put me down! Put me down right now!" he protested angrily, even though he did feel weak. He just wasn't sure whether he was weak from blood loss and a potential concussion, or more worryingly, whether he turned into putty because he was in Paul's strong arms.

A realization hit him. He didn't really want Paul to him down. He felt safe for the first time in a long while.

Just as suddenly as he was picked up, he dropped his protestation, closed his eyes, and gave in to the warmth of Paul's naked chest and arms. He was still wet, but it didn't bother him one bit. The coldness was gone, and all he felt was the warmth that was emanating from Paul.

This close he could smell Paul's scent... something heady and masculine, like fresh mint scented soap, mixed with a fresh appliance of a manly deodorant, yet intermingled with another scent that was subtle, almost evasive yet still very much noticeable... something that was inherently Paul and oh, so overpoweringly masculine. He took a deep breath.

And then it was all over in a few short seconds.

"I'm so sorry, I should've checked on you properly as soon as we got in," Paul said with concern ignoring his previous protestation, laying him down softly. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

Sense rushed to his head and he belatedly pushed Paul away.

"I'm fine!" he snapped.

Why was he suddenly having these thoughts about this stranger? And why did he allow himself to be picked up, and even worse, to give into his warmth? He's not gay, he's had plenty of girlfriends in the past! He loves women! God knows he's experimented and slept with more than his fair share of them since he hit puberty. And even if he was gay, and he's not saying he was, but he just met this guy and has no idea who the hell he was.

Oh, what the hell am I thinking! Of course you aren't gay! So stop this talk now, he self chastised.

Undeterred, Paul reached out and attempted to tug Liam's t-shirt over his head, "We need to get you out of these wet clothes."

"Whoa! Stop it right there man, I can get my own damn clothes off," Liam said feigning annoyance, when really, he was trying his best to calm his fast beating heart. The thought of taking his clothes off in front of this distractingly fine specimen of a man was sending his heart racing.

He audibly groaned. Did I seriously just think that this guy was a fine specimen of a man? What's wrong with me, he pondered agitatedly. He definitely must've hit his head pretty hard. There was no other explanation.

Noticing his discomfort, and assuming he was probably shy, Paul stood up and grabbed the clothes Liam gave him. "I'll go change in the bathroom, in the meantime you should get out of those wet clothes."

As Paul slowly closed the door behind him, Liam fell back into bed uncaring about how wet he was. He was glad to be finally alone for a moment to gather his thoughts. He had a lot to think about.

He shivered in bed, pondering the events of the past hour. His forehead creased in concentration as he tried to calmly process his bizarre reaction to this stranger Paul. The more he thought about it, the more his unease grew.

And just as if the cosmos sensed his mood, there was a loud thunderclap outside followed by lightning.

Then the light in his room spluttered and died, plunging him into blessed darkness to contend with his thoughts.