Free Dream Boy by Jim Grimsley

Roy's
knuckles whiten. He faces Nathan as if with much effort. “You mind?”
    “What?”
    “Coming
out here.”
    Nathan
slides across the car. He can smell Roy's sweetish breath. Their faces are
close and their bodies aware of each other again.
    “No,
I don't mind.”
    “We
can go to a movie sometime too.” Where words were easy before, they
suddenly come hard. Roy blushes and seems terribly confused. Nathan wonders if
he is remembering the conversation about Evelyn. “I ain't trying to hurt
anybody,” Roy says. “You don't hurt anybody”
    Roy is
searching for something now, and Nathan waits. Finally, in a jerky motion, Roy
leans forward and kisses Nathan on the mouth. The kiss is wet and cool. A
sweetness fills Nathan. Roy waits. Their cheeks are almost brushing.
“Touch me,” Roy says.
    Nathan
slides his hands around Roy's neck. Their hearts are pounding now, they can
feel the acceleration. The choruses of night insects rise around the car, high
pitched, almost frantic.
    Suddenly
Nathan feels older than Roy, and from within him comes some force in answer to
Roy's fear. He moves with surety, kissing Roy's face, reaching for Roy's shirt,
making each motion easy and gentle, what he understands will answer Roy's need.
Nathan leads Roy quietly in the car. The passenger cabin offers the most
protection they have ever had.
    It is a
gamble. Nathan must never reach for too much, he has learned better. The trick
is to gain access to the knowledge he has stored inside, without remembering
how it got there. To move in a way he knows will please Roy without revealing
the knowledge, which has a source. The motion of their bodies becomes a
balancing act. They have abandoned most of their clothes and Roy is lost in the
sensation of Nathan. Nathan has been kissing Roy's cock with his mouth but then
rises over it and presses it against his buttocks. Roy groans in surprise as
Nathan guides him inside and they finish in violence, straining and sour. They
lie quietly on the seat and Nathan feels the difference. Then Roy's confusion,
his anger. Nathan comes back into his body. Roy watches him with a kind of
horror and suspicion.
    There
is a deadly pause.
    “Who
taught you how to screw like that?”
    Nathan
tries to draw away, but Roy grips his arms. “Where did you learn? Answer
me. Who have you been screwing like that?”
    Nathan
remains too stunned to answer and shakes his head. Roy takes deep breaths, a
savage look in his eyes. His grip on Nathan's arm tightens. “Nobody taught
me,” Nathan says.
    “You're
lying.”
    “No,
I'm not.”
    Roy
raises his hand and Nathan flinches, cowers suddenly. Roy sees the hand and the
recoil. He studies Nathan as if for the first time. As if he has never known
Nathan before.
    They
dress in silence. Roy starts the car again, and they head for home. Nathan
studies the stars through the window. The broken place inside him aches now.
Roy will not speak to him because Roy thinks he is nasty. There can be no
question of Roy's judgment. Amidst so much turmoil the other memories are hard
to contain but Nathan manages well enough, until he remembers his mother's
voice from the afternoon, Stay out of your dad's way tonight. A little fear
seizes him and he reaches for Roy again, in his mind at least Roy who feels,
even now, like protection.
    Near
the farms again Nathan says, “Roy” Roy shakes his head, refuses to
speak. “Roy. Please.”
    He
parks the car in its usual place under the walnut tree. In the protection afforded
by the tree shade they watch each other.
    Something
unexpected. Roy is crying.
    From
Nathan's house come sounds. A light on the back porch. The screen swings open,
and a dark broad shadow waits there.
    A
silence like winter cools Nathan's gut.
    Whether
Roy is watching now hardly matters. Whether he understands, or ever will.
Nathan says good night and gets out of the car. He heads across the dark yard
toward the porch light and the shadow of his father,