When we got back to our blanket, Kathryn and Lyman were there, and Pauly staggered through the crowd with a goofy smile and slits for eyes. He’d clearly been into someone’s stash, but it was impossible not to smile at him. Pauly was the type of guy everyone liked.

We sat for a while, sang some more songs, and Richard never stopped smiling. He didn’t know all the words, but he clapped and swayed, a damn sight happier than the man I had seen staring out the window in the diner this morning.

Lyman eyed him cautiously, and I could see Richard was uncomfortable with his scrutiny. It wasn’t until we stopped singing so we could eat something that Lyman broke the peace.

“So, Richard,” he started, handing him a sandwich. “What’s your story?”

Richard’s cheeks went pink. He looked to the blanket and then out to the crowd of people. “I had some days to spare,” he answered. “Gary asked me if I’d like to come along, and I thought it sounded like a real good idea.”

“Some days to spare before what?” Lyman asked. His tone was neutral but his question was pointed enough.

“He’s flying from New York City to Los Angeles,” I answered for him. They already knew he was going to Vietnam, and I was hesitant to mention it again.

Lyman and Kathryn stared, and I could see their tempers warring with their manners. “The war, huh?” Kathryn asked.

Richard nodded. “Yeah, I did my training in Louisiana, and I came home to see my folks, but…”

“But what?” Lyman asked.

“But my folks and I don’t exactly see eye to eye,” he replied quietly. His eyes tightened when he looked at Lyman, but he smiled when he looked at me. It wasn’t a carefree smile; it was forced and brief at best.

“Do they not agree with the war?” Lyman asked. “Lots of people are opposed to it. You’d be hard pressed to find someone here at this festival who agrees with it.”

I shot him a look. “I think he knows that.”

Richard gave me a thankful smile. “They’re fine with the war. My folks would agree with anything the government says or does. They pray to Jesus and the American flag.”

“What about you?” Kathryn asked. “What or whom do you pray to?”

Richard look out across the sea of people and sighed. “Well, I don’t know. I’ve sat in church every Sunday of my life, been to every Sunday school session and every church get-together there was, listening to them preach about how judgment of others is wrong and that forgiveness is good, yet I was surrounded by people who do a whole lot of judging and not a lot of forgiving.” Richard’s face filled with pain and anger. “And I’d probably believe in Jesus if he believed in me.”

Lyman and Kathryn didn’t know what to say to that.

I put my hand on Richard’s shoulder and rubbed circles on his back. “I’d like to believe there is a God who is free of judgment.”

Pauly nodded slowly and lifted his beer. “Amen to that.”

We ate in silence for a while, and as the sun began to set, the songs around us died down and tents started to go up. Kathryn and Lyman bid us goodnight and headed back to their van, and although they were still wary of Richard, his little speech on religion painted him in an unexpected light. I didn’t think they knew what to make of him.

Pauly was already off talking to different groups of people, so I nudged Richard with my shoulder. “Hope you know how to put up a tent,” I said.

“Sure do,” he replied with a smile. “Country boy, remember?”

“Got something to say about city boys?” I asked, grinning at him.

“I got plenty,” he replied. Then he nudged me with his shoulder and laughed. “Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

He was right about one thing, he knew what he was doing. We pulled the blanket aside and all our gear, and he had that tent up in a flash. We straightened out the blanket on the floor of the tent and threw our bags in just as the last rays of the sun were gone. I rolled out my sleeping bag, pulled out my flashlight from my backpack, and turned it on. “Yeah, okay country boy. You did good.”

He laughed and lay down on the blanket, seemingly more at ease now no one else could see us inside the tent. “You didn’t do too bad either, city boy.” He folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. His shirt almost untucked itself and I caught a glimpse of pale skin at his hip. “I suppose I should get used to sleeping on the ground with no sleeping bag. At least I have a tent over me here. God only knows what it’ll be like over there.”

Over there. He didn’t have to say Vietnam. I knew that’s where his mind had gone.

“I can do camping for a few days,” I allowed. “Though I’ll take a running shower and hot water over the great outdoors any day. But I gotta say, the idea of walking into a foreign jungle and sleeping on the ground, not knowing who lurked around, scares the shit out of me.”

He nodded. “Me too, if I’m being honest. I always wanted to see the world, but not like this.” He rolled onto his side and faced me, one arm tucked under his head for a pillow. “I’m really glad I came here. Thank you for asking me.”

The sincerity of his words squeezed my heart. “You’re welcome,” I replied. “And you can use my flashlight any time if you need to go to the bathroom in the night. And we can unzip my sleeping bag and use it like a blanket, if you like. I only brought one pillow, but we can share that too, if you want.”

He sat up and hugged his knees. “You’re being very kind.”

“No,” I replied simply. “Just being human.”

He smiled and rested his chin on his knee. “Well, you’re one of the kindest humans I’ve met.”

“Kindness is my thing,” I said.

“Oh,” he laughed. “There I was thinking I was special.”

I knew he meant it as a joke, but I could only be honest with him. “You are. I’m not this kind to everyone. I don’t share my flashlight with just any stranger I pick up in small-town diners.”

He laughed and hid his smile behind his knees. I had so many things I wanted to ask him and, more than that, things I wanted to show him and do to him. Here he was, out in the big gay world for the first time just a few days shy of going off to war…

“I don’t think your friends like me too much,” he said quietly.

“Lyman and Kathryn? They’re okay. They don’t like the war, I can tell you that much.”

“Oh, well… I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your friends.” He swallowed hard. “I can be on my way anytime. You just say the word.”

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “You’re exactly what they need to see.”

He shook his head a little and whispered, “And what’s that?”

“The human component of war.” I took a deep breath and exhaled on a sigh. “They go on crusades about the government all the time. To them, the war is political propaganda, and they think it’s the government trying to push some ulterior financial agenda. I mean, Kathryn and Lyman are good people. They’re very passionate about, well, everything. Lyman more so than Kathryn. Their latest crusade is government privatization and corporate greed. Last year it was environmental and ecological sustainability and government and corporate greed. And before that, it was women’s rights and the government’s agenda to moderate women’s health because of government and corporate greed.”

“I’m beginning to see a pattern.”

I laughed. “Oh yeah. They believe the government needs to be watched and held accountable. Which it does, I agree, but Lyman and Kathryn are actively passionate about it. True freedom riders.”

He smiled. “And Pauly? What’s his crusade?”

“He’s just here for the weed.”

Now he laughed. “And you? What’s your crusade?”

“I believe in the people. I believe in freedom, freedom of choice, freedom of rights.” I smiled at him. “I believe in the freedom to fall in love with whoever I want and having my love be equal in the eyes of the law and the church.”

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes becoming glassy. “I like your crusade. That’d be mine too, if I was brave enough.”

“You’re going to war. I think that makes you brave.”

“Or crazy,” he mumbled. He shook his head and blinked back his tears. “Wanna know why I signed up?”

I nodded. I mean, I did want to know, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like what he was going to say.

“So my dad would think I was a man,” he said. This time, when his eyes filled with tears, one spilled down his cheek. He quickly scrubbed it away. “He looks at me and I can see him thinking that I’m one of those sissy boys he rants about. He glares at me, all angry, and tells me those queer men are bound for hell, and he says it like a threat. As if he knows.”

Another tear, and another. He tried to wipe them away but they kept on falling.

“So I enlisted,” he whispered. “Because then I’d be a man in his eyes. Part of me thinks he won’t care too much if I don’t come back. If I die in Vietnam, then he can tell all his church friends that I died a hero while secretly being thankful that he’s rid of his boy who talks a little too girly for his liking.”

“Oh, Richard.”

He dried his face and sniffled. It was a resigned sound. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. Been dealing with him my whole life.”

I took his hand and held it tight in mine. “That doesn’t make it right,” I said. “You’re perfect just as you are, and if your old man can’t see that, then he’s the one with the problem. It’s his loss. Seems to me he’s missing out on knowing a pretty great guy.”

Richard smiled first, then laughed and shook his head like I was being ridiculous. He looked at our joined hands for the longest moment. “I never thought I’d ever get to hold hands with another man,” he murmured. He turned my hand over and threaded our fingers, like he was committing everything to memory. His brow furrowed as if he had more to say but struggled with the words, so I lifted our hands and kissed his knuckles. Then I turned his hand over and kissed the inside of his wrist, and he gasped quietly. “What you said before,” he started. His cheeks were flushed, and he licked his lips nervously. “When I saw those two guys kissing… you said…” His words ran out of steam, but he was so nervous and shy, it was almost painful to watch.

I was pretty sure I knew what he was trying to say. “I said if you wanted your first real kiss to be with me, I’d be down with that.”

He nodded quickly and let out a rush of breath, followed by a laugh. He ran his free hand through his short hair. “I um…”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

His eyes flashed to mine, scared and hopeful. Then he nodded again. “Yeah.”

I switched the flashlight off so we didn’t cast shadows, then took his hand and put his palm to my cheek, letting him feel my beard. I kissed his palm and let him touch his fingertips to my lips. He gasped again, and I ran my thumb over his bottom lip, along his jaw, feeling his stubble there. His eyes were dark and he was breathing hard, and I leaned in, real slow. I held his jaw, and I swear, when our lips touched, I saw fireworks in his eyes.

I kissed him soft and sweet at first, then a little more. Open lips and gentle, and when his eyes closed, I gave him a hint of my tongue. A moan caught in his throat and he deepened the kiss, and I let him. I let him set the pace. I let him take what he wanted, what he needed.

He held my face, his fingers found my hair, and all of a sudden, this kiss became something else. Intensity and heat flared, his tongue in my mouth, and a guttural moan sent a jolt of desire to my groin. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed me back and climbed over my legs so he could straddle me.

Then, as though he realized what he’d just done, he stopped. He put his forehead to mine and squinted his eyes closed. “Sorry, I”

I gripped his hips to keep him right where he was. “Don’t apologize,” I whispered. “You liked it?”

He barked out a laugh, and when his eyes met mine, there was light and happiness. “Loved it. It feels right. Your beard, and your rough hands, and strong body. That’s what it’s supposed to feel like for me.”

I shifted my hips a little but kept him on top of me. “For someone who’s never done much kissing, you’re exceptionally good at it.”

He blushed and laughed. “I should probably get off you now.”

“Or you can stay right where you are and keep kissing me,” I said. “We were just getting to the good part.”

He made a face. “I’ve never…”

I sat up a bit and pulled his legs so they wrapped around me. His ass on my cock felt so good, but this had to be about him. “Lucky for you, I have. So how about you go as fast or as slow as you want, whatever you’re ready for.”

His face burned now and he cringed. “I don’t even know where to start. I mean, I’ve dreamed of it, but I’ve never…” He swallowed hard. “I’ve never even seen men kiss until today. Let alone much else.”

I cupped his cheeks and waited for him to look me in the eye. “Richard,” I murmured. “Would you like me to make you come?”

His eyes widened and he sucked back a breath, but his hips rolled as if he had no say in it. Then he nodded and crushed his mouth back to mine. He held me tighter and squirmed and grinded on me, and I let him for a while. But I soon slowed our pace, and ever so gently, I laid him on his back. His eyes were wide and vulnerability lurked there, with desire and a little fear.

“I’ll take care of you,” I said, pressing my weight on him. He spread his legs wider and pulled my face to his, bringing our mouths together in a sensual, deep kiss. I rolled my hips and he groaned. I could feel his hard erection, and I had no doubt he could feel mine too.

I was pretty sure if we kept going, I could make him come just like this, but I wanted to make his first time something special. So I kissed down his jaw, down his neck, and I lifted his shirt up so I could kiss his chest, down his stomach, and I looked up to his face to find him leaning up, watching, transfixed by me.

I grinned and popped the button on his pants. “Oh man,” he breathed, then fell back onto the sleeping bag.

“I’m going to take you into my mouth,” I said. “Is that okay?”

He scoffed. “You keep talking like that and it’ll be all over.”

I smiled and undid his zipper, then pulled him free of his briefs. He had a gorgeous cock. Six and a half inches, great girth, and a beautiful head that was made for sucking. I breathed his scent in, drew my nose up the length of his shaft, followed by my tongue. Precome beaded at the slit, and I flattened my tongue to lick it off.

“Oh God,” he breathed. His whole body was tense, strung taut. If he was nervous or too close to coming, I wasn’t sure. Or maybe he was uncomfortable…

“Richard,” I murmured from between his legs, and I waited for him to lift his head and look at me. “Is this what you want? Are you okay with this?”

He let his head fall back with a dull thunk and he sighed. “If you stop, I think I might die.”

That made me chuckle, and I licked him again for good measure. Then I fisted the base of his cock and took the head into my mouth, and he cried out, his body jerking. His cock pulsed and he fisted my hair. “Oh God. Oh God,” he hissed quietly.

I hummed around him, to let him know I was enjoying it as well. Then I sucked a little harder and pumped him, and he let out a harsh groan. “Gary, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…,” he rasped.

I groaned and took him deeper, and his back arched, his hips rolled, and his cock pulsed and spilled into my throat. I drank him down and he shuddered and moaned.

I let him go and slid up his body, planting kisses as I went. He had a glazed-over look on his face, his eyes unseeing, and he wore a disbelieving grin. I couldn’t help but laugh. “You alive in there?”

He took a second to focus on me. “I’ve never been more alive.”

I lay down on him, keeping my weight on my elbows. I pecked a kiss to his lips. “You’re so receptive to touch,” I murmured, kissing down his jaw.

He shivered and spread his thighs some more, hooking his foot around my leg. “I can feel your…” He cringed. “You’re turned on.”

“Of course I am,” I said with a smile. “You’re hot as hell, and I really like sucking dick. Made me horny.”

“Oh.” He blanched.

“Talking about sex and dicks and hard-ons is new to you, isn’t it?”

He nodded.

“But don’t worry, I don’t expect you to reciprocate. This was all for you,” I said. I kissed under his ear and took his lobe in between my lips. He gasped and ran his hand over my ass.

“I want to,” he said. “I want to do to you… what you did to me.”

I pulled back so I could look into his eyes. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. I probably won’t be any good at it,” he said with a cringe. “But I’d really like to try.”

I kissed his lips again. “Okay.” I rolled us over so he was on top of me. “Don’t try and take in too much, and don’t swallow.”

“Why?” he looked at me with all his wide-eyed, country-boy charm. “Don’t you like it?”

I barked out a laugh. “Oh, I like it very much. I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I want to do it,” he replied quickly. He licked his lips. “Will you teach me how?”

I put my hand to his face. “Okay.”

He smiled, and he really was very handsome. There was something sweet and earthy about him that appealed to me. He was naïve to the world and so very opposite of all the guys I knew at college. “We sometimes forget the rest of our bodies when it comes to sex. But touch and intimacy is a whole-body experience, not just with our dicks.”

He blushed and swallowed hard. “What do I do first?”

“Kiss me, slow and deep,” I whispered. “Then explore my neck and chest. Learn how to please all of me.”

He crushed his mouth to mine, so I spread my legs for him and he replied with a roll of his hips. I slid my hands under his shirt, over the skin of his back, and he deepened the kiss. When he pulled back, he smiled and laughed like a kid on Christmas morning. He shuffled down a bit and pulled at my shirt, then ran his fingers through the hair on my chest. I was by no means hairy, but he sighed. “You have no idea how good that feels,” he whispered, then he leaned down and kissed my breastbone, then he tongued my nipples, making me moan.

“You like that?” he asked.

“Love it.”

That spurred him on, and he was all wet mouth and roaming hands and hot breath, and for a novice, he sure knew how to press my buttons.

But the ache in my balls was begging for release and grinding, searching for more friction, and I wasn’t getting enough. “Undo my jeans,” I urged him. “I need more.”

He knelt back on his haunches and took his time popping the button. He licked his lips as he undid the fly, and holy hell, his excitement, his nervousness was driving me closer and closer to the edge.

He pulled the front of my briefs down and gasped quietly when he touched my cock.

“You like it?” I asked.

He nodded, and finding some courage, he freed my cock and ran his hand over the length. “I never thought I’d ever…,” he whispered.

“Stroke me,” I said. He did, and I thrust into his hand. “That feels amazing.”

He leaned in close, inhaled deeply, and his hot breath on the exhale felt so good. He pumped me, watching the skin slide under his touch, like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Then he licked the head, softly at first, then again a little harder. He flattened his tongue and tasted precome, and he closed his eyes and moaned.

Then, just like I wanted him to, he closed his lips around the head and took me into his mouth. He was slow and tentative, and there was something perfect about that. It was new and everything he’d only ever dreamed of, and he was savoring every moment, every touch, every taste.

I ran my fingers through his hair and he glanced up at me, his still innocent eyes despite my cock in his mouth. “Oh fuck, yes,” I murmured. “So good, Richard. So good.”

It took all of my willpower not to thrust, not to fist his hair and fuck his throat. I wanted to come so bad…

He worked my cock a little harder, a little deeper, and his cheeks were flushed pink and his lips were red and wet, gliding over me like silk.

“I’m close,” I said, giving him a warning.

A look of determination flashed in his eyes, and he sucked harder, pumped the base of my shaft like I’d done to him. I’d expected him to pull off, to chicken out, but he wanted it.

So I gave it to him.

I let go of my restraint and my orgasm washed over me, through me. I groaned with the force of it.

He made a noise of distaste and I remembered the surprise of it my first time. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on his face. But, he shocked me again by swallowing. I laughed then and pulled him up into my arms, rolling us onto our sides, and he was quick to bury his face into my chest.

I let the silence sit for a while, giving him time to get his head around what we’d just done. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, great,” he murmured.

“Not freaked out at all?”

He pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Should I be?”

I traced a line from his eyebrow down to his jaw. “Not at all. I’m just checking you’re okay. It was your first time with a guy, and that can be a little daunting.”

He studied my eyes for a long time. Then he said, “Gary, I want to do it all.”

“What do you mean? Do what all?”

“Everything. I have two days left before I need to leave for New York, and I might never get the chance again. Even if I come back from Vietnam… I’ll never get to be me again. Like I am here with you.”

I cupped his face. “What did you want to do?”

“Everything,” he said with a grin. “Everything my dad and his preacher friends would hate. Drinking, dancing. And… and… I want you to… I don’t want to go to Vietnam a virgin.”

“Technically, what we just did was sex.” I kissed him softly and whispered, “You’re no longer a virgin, Richard.”

“No, I mean… I want you to have me…” He squeezed his eyes shut and ducked his head. “I don’t know how to ask for it. It’s so embarrassing.”

I lifted his chin and kissed him again. “Don’t ever be embarrassed to ask for something.” His cheeks were so red I could feel the heat of them on my palm. “Do you want me to fuck you? Anal sex, is that what you want?”

He cringed, but then he nodded and tried to look away. “When I dream of it, when I fantasize, that’s what I want. Is that wrong? Should I even want that? Doesn’t that make me the fruity one?”

I pulled his chin back and waited for him to meet my eyes. “It’s not wrong, and you’re not fruity. I hate that term. Sex is a beautiful thing. And yes, if it’s what you want, that’s perfectly fine. And normal. Don’t think you’re not equal by wanting to receive, okay? It doesn’t make you any less of a man.”

“Am I that obvious?” he shook his head and scoffed.

“No. But I can guess if your dad preaches that homosexual men are evil, then being the one who catches is the worst kind.”

“Catches?”

“Yeah, the guy who catches, like in baseball; there’s the guy who pitches and the guy who catches, if you know what I mean. The guy who receives.”

“Oh.” He chuckled and sighed. “There’s so much I don’t know. You must think I’m pretty uncool.”

“I actually think you’re kinda great.”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

“Hell, yes. I didn’t know clean-cut, all-American boys were my thing, but apparently they are. Well, you are.”

He blushed again and buried his face against my chest, seemingly lost for words. So I rubbed his back for a while, just enjoying the closeness, then kissed the side of his head. “So let me get this straight. You want to spend the next two days, before Uncle Sam slaps a uniform on you, having all the sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll your body can take?”

“Anything and everything that would make my dad flip out.”

I laughed. “I’m sure I can help with that.”