52 Panhead - 3. Chapter 3

Saturday morning I woke to an empty bed. I rolled over to his pillow, burying my face in it as I curled up, trying to ease the sharp stab of disappointment. Oh, Evan… I lay there feeling sorry for myself, not yet awake enough to remember that he couldn’t get into the garage to get his bike. I was so bummed that I almost missed the squeak of the back door as he let the dog out. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, I rolled to my back and grinned at the ceiling. Funny how your emotions can do an about-face like that. Despair to yippee! in under ten seconds.

I swung out of bed, pulled on some jeans, and took a leak. When I came around the corner to the kitchen, he was at the stove with his back to me, peering under the corner of a piece of French toast. There was bacon sizzling in a pan and the smell of coffee was strong. He stood in a shaft of sunlight angling down from the high back window, and in that instant, I changed my mind - he was beautiful.

Evan was bare-chested and barefoot, standing hip-shot with one foot propped atop the other, wearing only his jeans. The width of his shoulders tapered to his waist, and the jeans just barely hung on his body, low enough for me to see the shallow dimples where his lower back rounded out into the delicious mounds of his ass. I stood quietly, watching him turn bacon, lower the heat of one burner, scratch his leg idly. He was humming softly to himself; I couldn’t catch the tune, but the contented sound of it eased my anxiety a little.

He slid the French toast onto a plate, and suddenly his head came up as he realized he wasn't alone. He slowly turned his head back over his shoulder, looking so like the painting on the Pan's tank, that when our eyes met, every inch of my skin rose in goose bumps.

When he turned to face me, the sunlight slanting down across his face washed his eyes out to a pale, rainy grey. It glinted on the springy black hair of his chest, and lay in dark shadows under his pecs and in the hollows of his arm pits. I got lost in those grey eyes, and in the tentative smile that curved his mouth so irresistibly. It seemed as though everything I’d ever wanted was in those eyes somewhere, if only I looked deeply enough.

Evan gazed back at me for one long moment, searching each other’s faces. Stay. Please stay, I thought. Then he put down the spatula, turned off the burners, and walked slowly to stand in front of me, hands shoved deep into his front pockets, which dragged the front of his jeans down far enough to get my attention. With an effort, I hauled my eyes back up to his face, but he wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he gazed uncomfortably at the floor for a few seconds before raising his eyes to me with a sigh.

"Sorry about last night," he said, his voice soft with regret and apology.

"Don't worry about it," I said, tucking a finger into the waist of his jeans and tugging him to me. I needed to feel him, to hold him, and remind myself that he was real.

He came willingly enough, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, kissing my ear as he breathed, "Morning."

“Hi.” I reached behind him, gripping his ass loosely in both hands, my head on his shoulder, my face in the soft curve of his neck, nuzzling into his increasingly familiar scent. He tipped his chin to rub along my cheek, and the stubble of his morning beard rasped against mine with a scratchy little sound that made me smile. We stood there as the light grew stronger, unwilling to let go until the dog whined at the back door. Then Evan pulled back a little; reluctantly, I thought, although maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.

"Breakfast is gettin' cold," he murmured, squeezing my shoulders as he stepped away to let Chewy in.

We ate slowly, enjoying the quiet of early morning. I studied his face, watching the muscles of his jaw work as he chewed, enjoying his shy glances away from my eyes. When the dog had finished the last piece of bacon, Evan piled the dishes in the sink, took my hand, and led me back to the bedroom. He dropped his jeans, so I followed suit, clueless but willing, and we climbed back under the sheet, on our sides facing each other, but not quite touching. I didn't know what he had in mind - all I knew was that, thank Christ, he hadn't asked me to drive him to the garage. Yet. The room was dim and quiet, and we lay there for a few moments before he started talking.

"When I heard the engine and stopped in to see the bike that first night, I’d been walking back to my hotel after dinner. You don't look anything like him, like Luke, but when I saw you, ….. I don't know... it was like something inside me started breathing again after all these years.” He lifted his eyes to look at me. "You don't want to hear this, stop me now."

"Oh, man, you gotta know I'm interested." I ran my fingers from his temple back through his hair, fisting my fingers loosely for a second, then released it and took his hand, pressing it to my mouth. "Go on."

"I thought about you a lot, even though we only exchanged, what, three or four sentences? When I came back the second time, I didn't really expect to feel anything - but I did. When you leaned back against that bench and spread your feet - Jesus, I boned right up. That hasn't happened in a long time. For months after the accident, it didn't happen at all. And once I kissed you….." He blew out a breath and sighed. "But after you fucked me on the bike, I got scared. Sweaty-palmed, knot-in-the-gut, flat-ass fuckin' terrified. That was the first emotional sex I'd had since Luke. Ten years. After the accident, it took me a long time to start even looking again, never mind dating. I just didn't wanna get close. I couldn’t.” He closed his eyes with a sigh. “But I told myself that if you found me the next time, I'd let it happen between us; I'd take the chance." He paused, and then added, "I've been up here a few other times, but never ran into you."

"When? Fuck, why didn't you–?" I stopped cold, struck by a sudden, sickening thought. "You’re still in love with him."

He looked at me then and smiled, his eyes a dark, muted gray like the underside of a storm cloud. "No, not any more. I'll never forget him, but it was a long time ago." He studied my face carefully. "Am I freakin' you out yet?"

I just shook my head, and when I didn't return his smile, it died as he read my eyes. He swallowed hard and stared at me another moment, then straightened out on the bed and pushed me away onto my other side, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling my butt back into his crotch. His breath was warm on my back and his semi-soft dick was squashed snugly into the crack of my ass. I nestled a little closer to him and brought his hand up flat against my chest.

He was quiet for a while, then, "Last night I wasn't sure I'd….. be able to fuck you….. but it felt right for the first time since Luke. We only did it a few times, but… God, what a feeling."

I closed my eyes tight for a second and squeezed Evan's hand. I was so incredibly glad I’d taken a ride into the mountains yesterday morning. What if I’d gone south instead? Sometimes it seemed to me that so much in life is left to chance that it’s a wonder anything turns out right at all. I suppose some people would argue that it mostly doesn’t.

Maybe talking about it put the idea in his head because it wasn't long before he rolled onto his stomach and reached down between my legs. I rolled to my knees, put one hand on his ass and bent to the crease of his knee, mouthing my way slowly up the back of his thigh, nibbling and licking. When I got to the curve of his butt, I followed it around into his ass, sliding my tongue down to flick across his hole. He groaned and spread his legs, shoving his dick down toward his toes and arching his back a little to give me better access. I slid both hands up under his belly and sunk my face into his ass. He reached down to grip my wrists and buried his face in the sheet with a groan.

After several minutes, I gave him one last lick before moving up to straddle his thighs. I poked my cock into him with a quick move that caught his breath for a second, but he pushed back against me, wanting more. I gave it all to him in a second thrust, falling forward to lie on him with my mouth on the back of his neck.

We were still for a few minutes, and then I began to rock my hips in a motion that rubbed the head of my dick across his nut with every stroke. I gritted my teeth and concentrated on holding out for as long as I could, but it was too good.

"I'm close," I ground out between clenched teeth.

"Let me turn over."

I pulled out, flipped him quickly with a hand under his hip, then settled over him with my cock next to his, both of them caught between the hard ridges of our stomachs. We humped into each other, stroking quickly, trying to kiss but bumping noses; and then Evan broke first, flooding our bellies with burst after burst of hot, thick cum. The slippery heat of it finished me and I grabbed his ass, holding him tight to me as I strained against him, grunting my way through a long, hard orgasm.

I relaxed down onto him, breathing heavily against his shoulder, and I felt him smile just before he spoke. "Nnnnh, fuck, that was good. I love doin' it in the morning."

I grinned; I loved morning fucks, too. This guy was starting to feel like he was custom-made for me, and if I wasn't careful, I wasn't gonna feel like letting him go tomorrow. But last night was still lurking between us, and I knew we needed to talk about it, so I rolled off him and twisted up to lean against the headboard. Evan met my eyes after I got settled, and we stared at each other for a minute before he broke contact.

"Evan." I spoke his name softly, waiting till he raised his eyes to mine again. "What about what you said last night? About being too scared. That you didn't think you could do this." I paused. "You aren't…..” I looked away, searching for the words. Come on, Jeff, grow some balls and spit it out. I looked back at him. “You aren’t just some bar fuck to me, and I don't wanna….." But I couldn't finish it, couldn't find the words that would let him know what he meant to me without leaving myself way more exposed than I was capable of - right now, at least.

He looked away from me, toward the foot of the bed, and stayed there for a few moments before turning around and sitting up next to me, his leg warm alongside mine. The silence strung out between us, and all I could think was that he was looking for a polite way to say 'adios, motherfucker.' Despite that fact that he'd initiated this morning's round, I had zero confidence that he was going to stay any longer than it took to get his jeans back on and figure out where the hell the garage was from here.

Finally, my nerves gave and I said, "Fuck it," just as he said, "Can I stay?"

We looked at each other in surprise.

"Really?" I said.

He shrugged a shoulder. "Well… yeah."

I felt a big, doofy grin starting, so I wrapped my arms around him and tackled him down onto the bed, trying to keep my cool. He fought me a little, and we wrestled around until he got me in a head lock. I couldn't break his hold without getting really rough, but I outweighed him by probably thirty pounds, and finally got loose by dragging his ass off the bed. Chewy jumped on us as we hit the floor, and when he stuck a foot in Evan's nuts, he let go of me. I pulled the dog off while Evan grimaced and rubbed his mashed balls, smiling at him when he made a face and said, "Owwwww."

We showered together again, sticking to the task at hand this time. I was happy as shit that he was going to stay, but the whole thing had me pretty weirded out. Dead boyfriends, life imitating art when I found him in the woods. I could barely keep my hands off him, especially when he was naked and slippery in my shower, but I didn't want to scare him off by coming on too strong.

As we bellied up to the vanity side by side to shave and brush our teeth, I was struck by how different we were physically. Evan's got those exotic gray eyes, longish black hair and pale skin; I'm your basic white guy - brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin - and keep my hair real short. His face is wide at the jaw; mine's more oval, I guess.

Evan's body was all planes and angles; hard, flat muscles that hugged his bones and shifted easily under his smooth, pale skin. In contrast, I was hills and valleys, swells of gym muscles rolling around beneath a darker, hairier hide. His nipples were deep pink circles the size of quarters dotting his chest; mine – small, brown nubs.

Gettin' the picture? We look pretty different.

Our cocks were wildly opposite also. Dark pink like his nipples, Evan’s soft prick was small and fragile, but grew to respectable size when he got wound up, as I well knew. The package I’d studied in his slacks that first night had been composed primarily of his bull balls, now weighing his sac down a few inches below the tip of his dick.

I, on the other hand, had one of those big, meaty cocks that every kid in high school stole envious looks at in the locker room. Before you go thinking lucky fucker, it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Whoever you’re with expects the thing to double in size when it gets hard, but that isn’t how it works - mine anyway - so you get the occasional mildly disappointed ‘is that it?’ look from the asshole size queen you brought home.

Anyway, Evan caught me looking at him in the mirror and shook his head as he eyed my dick. “Good fuckin’ thing I’m a confident man, or that pole you got hanging there’d give me a real complex.”

I waggled it at him until he laughed, and then went back to shaving with the thought that, if it’s true opposites attract, then Evan and I were made for each other. We finally got dressed and out the door, tossed the dog in the back of the Jeep and headed for the lake, stopping by a deli to load up the cooler.

It's about a twenty minute drive southeast through countryside that started out hilly and gradually flattened into endless fields of peanuts and soybeans, two of our main crops. Evan gazed out the window, running his fingers through Chewy’s fur, and pointing when he saw something of interest - a V of ducks one time, heading north; a pasture full of gamboling lambs another. I glanced at him occasionally, wondering at his change of mind from last night to this morning. If he was telling the truth when he said he hadn’t fucked anybody in ten years, I knew I needed to rein in my impatience and let him ease into the idea of being close to someone again. So I pushed it to the back of my mind, determined to let him be the one to bring it up.

I have a boat at a small marina - nothing fancy, just enough to ski behind. It had cooled off overnight and was overcast as we uncovered the boat and pushed off from the dock, so we just blasted around the lake for a while with the throttle wide open enjoying the wind in our faces. Chew stood on the front seat, his ears streaming out behind, tongue lolling. Eventually, I pulled into one of the numerous coves at the unpopulated end of the lake and tossed the anchor overboard. We broke out sandwiches and sodas, and settled down next to each other on the wide bench at the back, propping our feet on the cooler and tossing Fritos to Chewy.

The solitude loosened us up and gradually we began to talk about ourselves. Evan was a little younger than I'd thought, 27 to my 32, and had been practicing law for only a couple years. His dad was a partner in the firm and he expected to get the offer before he was 40, but wasn't sure corporate law was for him. He'd watched To Kill A Mockingbird too many times as a kid and had thought that being a lawyer actually meant doing some good, so he was contemplating hanging out his own shingle, but felt he first needed more diverse experience. He'd been down here that first time talking with a firm that specialized in family law, but hadn't settled anything with them yet.

After we finished eating, Evan turned to lean against the end of the bench, pulling me down so I was leaning back between his legs, my arms draped over his thighs. As he ran his fingers idly across my shirt front, he told me more about Luke. They'd met the summer before sophomore year and hit it off right away, becoming inseparable in a matter of days. Luke was blond and blue-eyed, your basic Swede, and played wide receiver while Evan was a starting guard in the fall and 1^st base in the spring.

Their first physical encounter was a cautious, fleeting kiss after a basketball game that led to a more substantial make-out session the following Saturday in Evan’s room while they were supposed to be studying geometry. The following month had them jerking each other off in the field out behind the football stadium after Luke scored the winning touchdown of the homecoming game. Those first orgasms were wild, cum shooting all over the place as they experienced what it was like to have someone else's hand on their cock. As he talked, I stared off across the lake, trying to reconcile the quiet, solemn Evan I knew with the one he was telling me about - a carefree teenager, laughing with his buddies, young and happy.

They progressed to blow jobs a few months later, trading off in the front seat of Luke's pick up truck on the dirt road at the back of his daddy's 200 acres. They didn't fuck until December of their junior year, but when they did, on Christmas Eve, it cemented their relationship and confirmed what they had both known for some time. They came out to their families that summer between junior and senior year. Everybody was pretty cool with it after the initial excitement died down, although Luke's dad never had much to say to Evan.

School was another matter, and there they tried to keep their secret, but word got around and pretty soon it was common knowledge that two of the hottest jocks in school were fucking each other. There was the usual half-assed harassment, but the real problem was the football team. It all came to a head in the locker room before practice one chilly February day. The big center said he wasn't letting Luke’s hands between his legs anymore. Luke said there wasn’t anything in there worth feeling up anyhow, and the battle was on. Offensive line on one side; Luke, the receivers and running backs on the other. The defensive guys just stood around and cheered.

When the dust settled, two banks of lockers were tipped over, half the squad had bloody noses or split lips, and the center was out cold from banging his head on the sink when Luke decked him. The center went to the hospital with a concussion, and the team went out onto the practice field where the coach worked them till they puked. The center switched schools, the whole thing blew over, and they won their first five games on the way to a record year.

Evan and Luke made plans to attend college together, a state school a few hours from home, and were looking forward to sharing an apartment and living together like the couple they were. Then the accident ended it for both of them.

Evan stopped talking at this point, clenching his hand in my shirt and taking a few slow deep breaths before continuing. His heart thudded a little too fast against my back; obviously this was still very painful for him to talk about, a full ten years later. It was then that I really began to comprehend the emotional devastation of the accident and what a life-changing experience it had been for Evan.

His punctured lung healed cleanly and his shattered leg left him with only the slight limp I’d noticed, but his heart shut down after Luke's funeral. He went off to school a year later and did well, but kept to himself, studying hard and clerking part time at a law firm. After a few years, he began to cruise the bars of a neighboring city, picking up an occasional trick, but never a blond and never staying the night with them. He never fucked them either, unable to maintain an erection when the time came. After a while he quit trying, understanding that his body wasn't going to go where his heart couldn't follow.

Until last night… until me.

It was peaceful out there on the lake, just the lap of the water against the side of the boat, and the gentle rocking put us to sleep for an hour or so. I woke before he did and picked up the hand he had resting on my chest. His fingers were long and blunt; I ran my fingertip lightly along the veins on the back of his hand, ruffling the sprinkle of black hair.

Being with him was so easy, so natural, it seemed like I'd known him for years instead of days, and I wanted more of it. I wanted him. I turned his hand over and brought it to my mouth, planting a soft kiss in his palm, folding his fingers over it, and pressing his fist to my chest. As I closed my eyes, I felt his breathing change slightly and knew he was awake.

"Come on up here and do that again," he said softly, turning my shoulders and pulling me up to him. We kissed for a long time, slowly learning what each of us liked, feeling the heat building between us, smiling at each other as our dicks got hard. By then it was late afternoon, so we headed back to the marina, got the boat put away, and drove back to town. A stop at the market for steaks and potatoes, a porno flick from the adult store next door for later, and we were all set for the night.

It was a good evening. We sat on the back deck as the sun went down, sipping cold ones and tossing balls for Chewy. At one point, Evan and I threw at the same time, and I thought Chew was gonna break himself in half trying to go in both directions at once. He spent a few amusing minutes trying to fit both balls in his mouth, and when he finally trotted triumphantly up the steps, his black lips spread wide around the balls, we applauded.

Around seven, we fired up the grill and ate the steaks and baked potatoes with a salad and a couple more beers. When we cleaned up the kitchen - him washing, me drying - I was struck again by how easy we were together, talking about nothing special, comfortable when one of those silences stretched out. He reached down to scratch Chewy now and then, stepping over him as he moved around the kitchen like he’d had a dog all his life.

I'd never felt lonely in my own house, although I'd lived here five years by myself, but I knew that after he left tomorrow, I would never again feel the same about living here. Memories of him would be in every room, and his laughter would linger on the deck where he had snickered over a lawyer joke I told him - one he hadn't heard yet.

Then there was the bedroom; I didn't even wanna think about the bedroom and all the memories it now held.

We got down to our shorts and settled in on the couch, ready for the mindless pleasures of a Colt Studios sex-a-thon. We got hard during the first scene, stroking steadily, fondling each other's balls, then came with the boys in the third scene, our own money shots as noisy and satisfying as those on the screen. I popped first, blasting thick shots onto my chest. He rolled toward me onto a knee and scooped his hand through my cum, using it to lube his cock some more. He braced one arm on the back of the couch and leaned over me as he groaned his way through an intense climax, adding his own ejaculate to my belly. Watching him, the lines of muscle tightening across his belly and down his arm, his body twitching each time his cock fired, was a show in itself. We clicked the TV off and stretched out on the couch together in the moonlit living room, dozing off the beers and orgasms.

I woke a few hours later to the feel of my soft cock buried in his warm, wet mouth. He was sucking me very gently, barely moving his mouth while his fingers skimmed lightly over my balls. It was almost dream-like and I kept my eyes closed, just floating along with him as he slowly worked me up to a full erection. He let my cock slide out of his mouth and moved up to squat over me, one foot on the floor, the other on the couch on the far side of my hip. My cock bounced a little as I realized what he was doing, and he chuckled as he gripped me, guiding the tip of my cock to his hole, grunting his way down onto me until his ass settled onto my thighs.

He leaned forward with his hands on my chest and rocked his pelvis, clenching tightly around me each time. His skin was warm and damp under my hands as I rolled his hard nipples in my fingers, getting a long moan from him. By the time he began pushing off his feet, his ass tugging at the head of my cock with every stroke, we were both breathing hard, and soon I shoved him off and grabbed my dick as I climaxed in a spatter of cum. Evan wrapped his hand just below the purple head of his cock, squeezing rhythmically as his nuts contracted, adding his load to mine.

As the intensity of orgasm cleared from his face, he smiled down at me. I gazed back at him, knowing that way too much of what I was feeling was on my face, but ready to take a little bit of a chance. His smile died away, and we just looked at each other for several long seconds. Then he leaned down and kissed me long and deeply, holding my head in his hands. I put my heart into the kiss and he moaned into my mouth, moving back to look at me again, his grey eyes dark and a little sad.

“Evan…” I began, but he touched two fingers to my mouth, shushing me, his expression tense and wary. I searched his eyes. What did he think I was going to say? What was it he didn’t want to hear? When I finished with, “I’m glad you’re here,” his expression softened and he smiled in agreement. Then he pulled me to my feet, and we walked hand in hand down the hall to bed, where he lay down and backed into me, pulling my arm across him. I pressed my face to his smooth back, feeling his heart thudding steadily against my chest, wondering how to deal with what I was feeling for him. All the ingredients were present for me to fall hard for this guy, to want him around as a permanent part of my life. He had a giving nature that complimented my own, and from our couple of days together, it seemed we were compatible domestically.

And he was hot as hell in bed - our chemistry was better than I'd ever experienced.

I fell asleep to dreams of Evan coming home each evening, sharing the little chores of making dinner every night, playing with the dog, spending hours and hours fucking. It was a great dream, interrupted only by the sound of the front doorbell five hours later.