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“Hey, Matthews! You plan on standing up there all day?”
Closing the folder that contained the speech he would be giving at graduation next week, Blaine glanced toward the bleachers. His heart tripled its beat when he saw the person yelling at him.
Trent was sitting sprawled on the first row of the bleachers, his legs splayed open wide, causing his gym shorts to pull tight across the crotch area. The way he was leaning back with his elbows propped on the second row of seats had his cut-off baseball jersey riding high. Blaine swore he could see the sunlight glinting off his boyfriend’s nipple piercings.
“Hey, Matthews! You listening? I need a ride home. You up to taking me?”
Blaine watched as Trent casually dropped one hand between his legs and scratch his balls. “You asshole,” he muttered, suddenly a little short on air. “Of course I’m up to taking you. Who wouldn’t be after seeing that?”
Vaulting off the stage, he walked from the football field to the bleachers, using the folder to hide the erection he was now sporting. By the time he reached where his boyfriend was sitting, Trent had slipped his fingers inside his shorts and was making no effort to hide the fact that he had a major boner. Of course, his brazen boldness was encouraged by the knowledge there wasn’t a soul within hundred feet of where he was sitting.
“Like what you see, Budman?” Trent asked, his green eyes twinkling with mischief.
Blaine didn’t say a word. He merely grabbed Trent by the arm and dragged him behind the bleachers, not stopping until they were well hidden in the shadows beneath them. He then wiped the grin off Trent’s face with a kiss that had his boyfriend groaning and feverishly humping his leg.
“Shit, Blaine!” Trent exclaimed once his mouth was free. “You tryin’ to make me cum in my pants?”
Feeling alive for the first time since his brother’s death, Blaine boldly slipped his hand inside Trent’s shorts and tweaked the head of his dick. “Do it. I dare you.”
Trent stared open-mouthed at him for a full minute, but then that smile crept across his face, the smile that warned he was about to lose control of the situation.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Trent widened his stance and thrust his hips forward ever so slightly. “You’d love to feel the hot splash of my spunk on your hand, dripping off your fingers and coating your skin so thick you’d be smelling and tasting me for days.”
Trent leaned forward and whispered hotly in his ear. “You’d like that, right?”
“Oh fuck, yes!” Blaine clenched his eyes shut and desperately tried to prevent his body from doing the exact same thing he’d just dared Trent to do. The voice of his homeroom teacher yelling at them proved to be the proper deterrent, and he sighed with relief when his erection deflated somewhat.
“Unless you two want to be suspended, I’d suggest you take it off school property.”
“Will do, Mr. Martin. Thanks.” He slowly eased his hand out of Trent’s shorts before turning around and nodding at his instructor, one of the few sympathetic to the school’s gay students. “Sorry about that. Got a little carried away. Won’t happen again.”
The tall, broad-shouldered teacher peered over his shoulder at Trent. “Is this the young man you’ve been regaling me and Dane about?”
“Yeah, this is him.” He blushed as he dragged Trent forward. “Trent, this is Mr. Martin. He teaches fourth level Physics.”
“I’ve seen you before,” Trent said. He shook hands with the older man. “You hang out a lot with Mr. Strickland from the English department. I see you in his room all the time.”
“Dane’s my life-partner,” the man explained before excusing himself.
Blaine laughed at the stupefied look that appeared on Trent’s face. “Close your mouth, dude. There are other gays at our school besides us.”
Trent gestured in the direction Mr. Martin had gone. “But he’s . . . .”
“What? A teacher?” He looked over to where his instructor was unsuccessfully trying to break up a catfight between two screaming cheerleaders.
“Old,” Trent declared with a frown. “He’s old.”
Blaine fell out laughing. “Older men can be gay, too, you know.” Taking his boyfriend’s hand, he tugged him toward the parking lot. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Where are your books?”
“Threw ‘em in your truck on the way over.” Trent spared a last glance for the teacher and the cheerleaders. “You think they still do it? Fuck, I mean.”
“Certainly hope they do.” Blaine popped the locks on the doors of his truck and climbed behind the wheel.
“Why’d you say that?” Trent asked once he’d retrieved his backpack and was seated and belted in.
Blaine finished buckling his seatbelt before catching Trent by the back of his neck and pulling him close enough to kiss. “I don’t know about you, but I plan to keep doing it with you until my equipment stops working, which shouldn’t be for another sixty or seventy years, if you get my drift.” He released his hold but before he could transfer his hand to the steering wheel it was caught by Trent and squeezed hard.
“You really gonna want me around that long, Budman?” Trent tightened his grip.
“Those are my plans,” he answered. “Unless, of course, you want it otherwise.” Returning the playful grin aimed at him, he allowed his hand to be tucked between his boyfriend’s legs. The grip on his hand increased once Trent clenched the muscles in his thighs. Damn! The boy had definitely been working out if the circulation-strangling vise on his hand was anything to go by.
“Nope, nope,” Trent answered. “Your plan sounds okay to me. Although, I’m actually pulling for eighty years. Why stop at seventy when you can fuck for ten more?”
Successfully liberating his hand, Blaine chuckled. “You do realize we’ll be old and decrepit and probably in diapers by then?”
“Yeah, but we’ll be together. Gotta make sure they put us in the same room at the nursing home. That way we can push our beds together and still fool around.”
His heart immediately swamped with emotions and Blaine could only stare at Trent. He knew the younger teen loved him, and he’d hoped their relationship would last far into the future, but to hear Trent actually talking about them still being together when they were way into their nineties, he felt his eyes fill with tears. “I do so love you, Trent Anderson,” he whispered roughly, leaning forward to capture Trent’s mouth with a kiss that expressed the feelings he couldn’t put into words.
“Uh, Budman?”
Blaine had shifted his mouth so that he could nip at Trent’s Adam’s apple. “Yeah?” he asked after a moment.
“Uh, that teacher of yours is standing right outside your door and, man, is he giving us the stink eye. I really think we need to take this elsewhere.”
Blaine groaned his displeasure, and with one last lick of Trent’s throat, reluctantly shifted back to his side of the seat. He aimed an apologetic smile at Mr. Martin before starting up his truck and shifting into reverse. “Is it okay if we do that?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“Do what?” Trent unzipped his backpack and yanked out his science book. Loose papers went flying everywhere, and he had to unbuckle his seatbelt in order to lean down and gather them off the floor.
“Go somewhere we can make out.” Blaine found he was distracted by the way Trent’s shorts rode low on his hips and revealed a glimpse of his ass. When he finally shifted his eyes back to the road, he realized he was about to run a stop sign and immediately slammed on the brakes.
“For Christ’s sake!”
Glancing down quickly, he couldn’t help but laugh when he saw how Trent was wedged between the seat and the floor. He would have offered to free his stuck boyfriend, but a horn blaring behind him killed that idea. “You okay?” he asked as he shifted gears and eased the truck into traffic.
Trent wiggled around until he was on his knees glaring him. “Why the hell’d you do that?” He rubbed his head. “Dog run across the road?”
With a widening grin, Blaine explained, “Actually it was your ass that caused me to brake so suddenly.”
“My ass?” Trent looked over his shoulder at his rear end as if it held the answer to his question. “What the hell has my butt got to do with anything?”
Blaine expounded with a lick of his lips. “When you bent over to grab those papers that fell, I got a good look at it.”
“Is that all?”
Blaine waggled his eyebrows. “Well, if I may say so, Mr. Anderson, you do have a mighty fine ass. I couldn’t help but stare.”
Laughing, Trent leaned his elbows on the seat. “Can’t argue with you there, but next time make sure the truck is stopped before you start ogling the merchandise.”
“If you insist.” Several seconds passed before he realized Trent hadn’t resumed his seat. He looked over at his boyfriend and saw the wicked look on his face. “Whatever it is, don’t.”
Trent scooted closer and boldly slid a hand toward him. Before another warning could be issued, Trent’s hand was coasting up his thigh and toward his crotch.
“You don’t even know what I’m thinking,” Trent answered.
“Don’t have to. Just seeing that grin on your face is warning enough.” Blaine brought the truck to a stop, but instead of turning down the street that led to their respective homes, he continued straight through the intersection, taking them to his grandfather’s place. “Whatever you’re thinking put it on hold until we get to Gramp’s farm. I think one near miss a day is enough, don’t you?”
He nearly came up off the seat when his boyfriend leaned forward and buried his face in his crotch and kissing the family jewels. “Fuck!”
Trent hauled himself off the floor and settled beside him. Immediately he began nipping at his ear.
“Trent, seriously, quit.”
“Hmmm?”
Blaine unsuccessfully tried to discourage the mouth nibbling on his ear. “I said one near miss a day is quite enough for me.”
“And I totally agree.” Trent shifted focus and began licking his throat repeatedly. “That’s why I didn’t give into the urge to blow you while you were driving.”
“Come on, man. Cut it out.” He elbowed Trent in the ribs.
“Spoilsport.” Trent slid back to his side of the seat, flipping him the bird as he went. “I was only trying to . . . oh hell, forget it.”
Blaine pulled to a stop at the gate that led to the rear section of his grandfather’s 70-acre farm. Before opening his door, he glanced at Trent and sighed at the mulish way his chin was tilted. “I’m sorry I elbowed you, Trent, but you can’t pull that shit while I’m driving. One death in the family is enough, and I sure as hell don’t want to add to my parents’ grief ‘cause we couldn’t keep our hands off each other while coming home from school. Now, would you please drive the truck through once I get the gate open?”
Slamming the door shut, he walked over to the gate and threw it open, motioning to Trent once he had walked through to the other side. He idly searched the field for any signs of his grandfather or the men that worked for him. Finding no one, he got back in the truck and followed the dirt road that led to a stand of oak trees at the far edge of the property. Once there, he threw the truck into park and cut the engine.
Minutes passed as he waited for Trent to speak. Finally he shook his head in exasperation and rolled down the window. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he turned to face his boyfriend. “Don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but I used to come here a lot during those days when I was trying to figure out if I was straight or gay. Used to climb that tree and just sit and think about it all.”
He pointed to a gigantic oak with several low-lying branches. “In fact if you climb up to where the trunk splits in two, you’ll see where I carved our initials in the wood. I did that one the day I decided I was totally in love with you.” He slapped Trent on the thigh. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
He was halfway up the tree before Trent decided to join him. He could plainly see Trent was still sulking, and he wisely ignored his boyfriend’s petulant attitude. His mind was focused on something much more important.
Trent finally took his seat opposite him. “I’m here. Where’s our initials?”
Blaine pushed back a leaf-laden branch and revealed the letters he’d carved into the bark. Instead of the traditional heart, he had enclosed their initials inside a knight’s shield, and it was that design that had given him the idea for the tattoos they both now wore. “I was fourteen when I did that.”
Trent traced both sets of initials before looking over at him. “Can’t believe you had those kind of feelings for me back then. I mean, I know we were best buds and all but . . . love?”
He placed his hand over Trent’s and flattened them so that they were covering the carved shield. “There’s never been anyone else, Trent.” His boyfriend’s disbelieving look had him explaining further. “Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve dated several guys, even fooled around with a few, but not one of them was you. They were just filling the gap until I got up the nerve up to tell you how I really felt.”
Blaine lifted his hand away, but that was only so that he could haul Trent over to his side of the tree. After wrapping one arm around Trent’s chest, he dug in his back pocket for something he had been waiting three months to give his boyfriend.
“I know we haven’t discussed this and you’re probably going to think this is totally lame,” he said after kissing Trent on the cheek, “but I’d really like it if you’d wear my graduation ring.” He held out the ring to Trent and felt his heart skid to a stop when it was not immediately taken. Swallowing his pride, he closed his fingers around the ring and let his arm drop to his side. “Yeah, okay. Sorry about that.”
He rested his chin on Trent’s shoulders and looked everywhere but at his face. “Don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, you’re already wearing my initials on your arm. That should be enough, I know.”
Trent turned and nudged his jaw with his nose. “Can I see the ring again?” he asked huskily.
Slamming the door shut on the hope that kick-started his heart into overdrive, he showed him the ring. “The main stone is a garnet, my birthstone, but if you look real close, you’ll see that the eyes of our school mascot are the color of your birthstone, amethyst.” He felt himself blushing. “I thought it would be cool to incorporate both gemstones into the design.”
The ring was stared at for what seemed like a long time, and he was ready to climb down from his favorite meditation spot when Trent stopped him. “Would it,” Trent scooted around until he was facing him, “would it hurt your feelings if I wore your ring on my chain instead?”
Blaine was caught completely off guard when Trent looped his arms around his neck and latched onto his mouth. They played tongue tag until breathing became absolutely necessary for their continued survival. “You’ll,” he sucked in another gulp of air, “you’ll wear it?”
“Of course, you goofball. I’ll wear it on the chain I’ve got my mom’s locket on. Is that okay?” Trent lifted out the gold chain he’d worn around his neck for the past five years.
With the utmost reverence, Blaine took the chain once Trent had removed it from around his neck and carefully slipped his brand new graduation ring on it. Before handing the chain back to Trent, he flicked open the locket and stared at the picture of Trent’s mother. “Do you think your mom would be okay with me loving you? With us being together?”
Blaine held up the locket for Trent to see. “I know she was happy with us being friends, but do you think she’d be okay with us being more than just friends?”
“You know until just now I never really understood why Mom kept insisting I stick with you. Right before she died, she must have told me that a thousand times. ‘Stick with Blaine,’ she’d say.”
Blaine followed Trent down the tree and jumped to the ground once he reached the bottom branch. “For real? She said that?”
Trent nodded. “I always thought she was telling me that because we were best buds, but now thinking back, I have the feeling she already knew about you being gay and loving me and that telling me to stick with you was her way of making sure we got together.”
If Trent thought he was the only one his mother spoke those words to, he would have been wrong. It seemed every time he and his parents would visit Mrs. Tracy in the hospital, she would say nearly the same thing to him. “You stick with my son, Blaine. He needs you. He’ll always need you.”
Not quite ready to go home, he took a seat at the base of the tree and tugged on Trent’s hand until he was tucked securely in front of him. “Your mom was a smart woman,” he whispered in Trent’s ear before burying his face in the tousled hair tickling his nose.
“Yeah, she was.” Using both hands Trent gripped the arm wrapped around his upper chest. “And no doubt she’s doing that crazy touchdown dance of hers in heaven, celebrating us getting together.”
Blaine looked through the branches of the oak tree at the clear blue sky above them and smiled his agreement. “No doubt, Trent. No doubt.”
To be continued . . . .