Smitten by R.W. Clinger (1)

Smitten

By R.W. Clinger

Smitten, adj: struck by; afflicted; very much in love with.

—Dictionary.com

Friday, April 14, 2017

Jesse Fitzpatrick stood at the kitchen window, studied the empty driveway to the A-frame’s left, and sighed. A few scattered events rolled about his skull: his sister’s wedding was in a week, and he still needed a date to the function; it wouldn’t stop snowing, even though it just happened to be midmonth; Corralito “Carr” de Vantino was expected to pull in his ice-covered, asphalt driveway from an extended stay in Ecuador with the Armistice Coalition (AC). AC, a group similar to the Peace Corps, gained private funds from local high-end businesses in the tristate area to accomplish its worldly work.

How long had Jesse’s best friend, Carr, been away from Plimpton, Pennsylvania? Almost two years. At thirty-eight, a low-paid, lead crusader for AC, Carr had spent the time away from Lake Erie, building houses and water systems for third-world Ecuadorian communities. For the last twenty-two months, Jesse had kept in contact with his best friend via handwritten letters and very few calls. Carr lived in the Amazon jungle, southeast of the country’s capital, Quito, and didn’t have access to Wi-Fi.

Excited to see his best pal, Jesse watched the snow fall from the heavens and glaze the driveway, creating what looked like beautiful icing on a wedding cake as opposed to a blistery wonderland with springtime already one month into its term. Fortunately, Carr was taking a cab from the county airport to Jessie’s A-frame abode in the woods and next to the lake, presumably carrying the same large canvas bag he had left Plimpton with almost two years ago. Jesse had calculated the cab ride at twelve miles, which translated to forty minutes because of the unhelpful weather, maybe even fifty minutes.

Jesse’s reflection appeared in the kitchen window as he looked outside: ginger hair, soft green eyes, no facial hair, freckles over his nose and cheeks, a cleft in his chin, thin chest but with some muscle, and narrow shoulders, proving he sat and watched television or read instead of working out. One-hundred and eighty pounds of muscle on a six-one frame. The reflection pegged him as physically fit, a salad-eater, nonsmoker, social drinker, and handsome, but not in a Hollywood way like Chris Hemsworth.

Twenty minutes ticked by at the kitchen window. Thirty minutes. Anticipating Carr’s arrival, Jesse looked at his cellphone and saw it was almost five in the evening. The overcast caused the twilight hour to look dismal and dark. Snow started to twirl beyond the kitchen window, accumulating on the ground.

He swallowed saliva down the back of his throat and eventually whispered, “You’re late for everything, buddy. Always late.”

Time for a cup of coffee with just a splash of whiskey. Why not? Maybe the beverage would calm his nerves down. He fetched a ceramic mug from a cupboard, filled it three-fourths full, and added two splashes of Jack Daniels. Jesse took a sip next to his familiar window and decided it had gone done smooth. Still watching.

Jesse and Carr had been best friends since middle school, when Carr’s family moved from Buffalo, New York, to Plimpton. The two had become top-notch video game players back then. Number one (and two) Goosebumps readers. Britney Spears lovers. They had done everything together inside and outside Plimpton Middle School. Thereafter, high school years followed. They tried out for track together, hung around with Martin Meltz, and went to prom during their senior year, but not together, both having the time of their lives. When the pair graduated from PHS at the top of their senior class, Carr decided to enter the AC, and Jesse attended Templeton College, located some ten miles from the house he had grown up in on Dadhi Street.

As Jesse obtained a degree in finance from Templeton, Carr traveled around the world: Congo, Bolivia, Indonesia, and just about every corner of the globe. Time, as if it had no limits, and love slipped between the two friends. They saw each other on and off and throughout the next twenty years following their graduation day at Plimpton High School. Their visits together were short and sweet, always. Carr’s job had landed him in the most beautiful places of the world: Victoria West, South Africa; Meru, Kenya; or Kurna, Turkey. The two men usually had dinner together, drinks, and minimal conversation. Never had they kissed. Carr was always somewhere different in the world to save a ruined, third-world community, helping prevent suffrage among humanity, and changing underprivileged civilizations for the better. And Jesse visited him, traveling to the places where Carr worked for AC, always thrilled to see the guy.

Truth told, in Jesse’s opinion, their visits were far too short when he traveled to faraway lands to see Carr. Sometimes even only hours long. Carr’s life with the AC had caused the friends to always be distant from each other, for decades now. Jesse had never gotten used to Carr’s temporary visits in Plimpton, or how they sometimes met in Berlin, Rome, Rio, or elsewhere on the planet. Life in the AC had caused such hardships for families and close friends, including Jesse’s and Carr’s friendship.

Honorable, Jesse had never replaced Carr as his best friend in the last twenty years. Yes, he had a string of male boyfriends and lovers, men he bumped naked bodies with and lusted for throughout the years, but Carr’s position as a best friend had never been filled by a new man. To Jesse, Carr was irreplaceable, and no one could fill the man’s shoes. No one at all. Never.

More snow started to fall to the earth, and the day darkened. Headlights didn’t pull into the driveway, filling the A-frame’s first floor with yellow-golden light.

Just as disappointment started to flood Jesse’s mind amid relentless thoughts that Carr couldn’t make the trip to Plimpton, again being whisked away to another part of the world under AC’s care, or stranded in Ecuador, his cellphone chirped once, twice, three times.

The cellphone lay on the kitchen table to his left. He picked it up, didn’t recognize the incoming number, and somberly said, “Hello.”

“Jesse?” the voice on the other end replied, scratchy, faint, and undecipherable.

“Who is this?”

“Jesse, it’s me…Carr. I’m in a jam.”

“Carr?” A smile formed on Jesse’s face, and his heart warmed. In fact, his entire body warmed. “Carr…Carr…Where are you? What’s going on? What kind of jam are you in?”

He listened to nothing then. Dead air. Silence. No. That wasn’t true. The wind and snow picked up outside and spun in circles, forming miniature cyclones, which slapped against the kitchen window.

Then Jesse heard a string of squeaks and scratchy sounds from his cellphone. Between the static, he made out three of Carr’s words: cinder…snowdrift…help.

Jesse immediately placed the three words together and thought of Cinder Black Road and how it had sporadically weaved left and right along Lake Erie. Add in some snow, ice, and a cabbie who didn’t know how to handle the road during a snowstorm, and trouble would end up happening, which most likely it did. Jesse pictured a red-and-black Plimpton cab in a snowdrift or ditch, stuck there, needing a tow truck…help.

Jesse threw on a winter coat and boots, snagged his keys off the kitchen counter with his cellphone. In a just a few seconds, he sat behind the steering wheel of his Ford Ranger and headed to Cinder Black Road.

Snow swirled against the windshield as the day welcomed nighttime. The radio played a Bruno Mars song, and he flicked it off, concentrating on his driving. Jesse made a left on Methodist Avenue, heading toward Lake Erie and Cinder Black Road. While driving, he recalled writing back and forth with Carr while Carr was based in Ecuador for the last twenty-two months. Parts of those letters surfaced in his memory:

…saw the most beautiful panther in a cluster of bamboo today…Roberto Isbar, my guide, is teaching me Spanish slang and having fun with it…Roberto has my back here…so deep in the jungle, it’s pitch black at night, freezing cold and wet…somewhere near Tundayme, a small village called Estu…lean-tos built from thick and sturdy bamboo and vines…beautiful and natural waterfalls here in the rainforest…beetles and mosquitoes the size of apples…wished you could see this place and all the amazing sunrises…nothing like Plimpton and Lake Erie…you would love the humitas here, corn pancakes, and patacones, known as plantain chips…the nights are cold, but Roberto is here…next to him, trust him, my true confident here…watches me bathe near the Rio Quimi…we’re not lovers, but maybe he wants to be…smitten with me…attracted to me…hasn’t made a move on me…protects me…

Jesse’s letters to the man were less interesting regarding his life in Plimpton:

…snowing, always snowing…coldest winter I can remember…you’re building great things in the jungle, changing lives, and I’m sitting on my ass transferring money from one bank account to the other for a list of my clients…not so much fun…Easter was quiet, uneventful…I keep in touch with your mother in Waco via Facebook and texting…she’s happy there in her ranch with your aunt…Trump won the election, still unbelievable…soccer team dies in plane crash, somewhere in Colombia because of no fuel in the plane…hired a high school kid to shovel my walks because I was feeling lazy…reading a great book called The Girls by Emma Cline…no vacation plans for the holidays…wished you would come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, know you can’t, though…jealous of Roberto Isbar…wished I could be your confidant in the jungle…wished I could have your back…wished I could work at your side…miss you…miss you a lot…miss you too much maybe…snowing here, always fucking snowing…the shit is never going to melt…

* * * *

Cinder Black Road. Jesse parked his truck behind a Chip’s Towing Service truck. Darkness swarmed the area. Yellow strobes swirled atop the tow truck. Red flashers illuminated the truck’s ass end. The Plimpton cab had obviously skidded off the road due to a sheet of ice and swerved into a snowdrift. Its metal hood looked like a sheet of crinkled tin foil, badly mangled. According to Chip Casteel, the tow truck driver, the cabbie was fine, as well as the passenger, Carr de Vantino. No ambulance was needed, and Plimpton police had better things to do for the community.

Jesse saw the cabbie in the front seat of the tow truck. Near the back of the tow truck, to the left and out of the way, stood Carr de Vantino, hands stuffed into a Columbia jacket, Timberland boots, wool cap on his head. Next to his left leg sat the single bag he had traveled with around the world for the last dozen years, filled with his only belongings, his life concealed by thick canvas.

They made eye contact with each other at the same time. Jesse moved into Carr’s opened arms, and the two men hugged. To his surprise, Carr kissed his right cheek, which threw Jesse off a bit. Carr had never kissed him before. Not once. Jesse wasn’t about to complain, enjoying the world traveler’s scruff on his clean-shaven skin and strong smell of sweat.

The hug ended just as quickly as it had started. Carr gently shook Jesse, clamping hands on Jesse’s wool-covered biceps. “Good to see you, guy? How long has it been?”

Jesse remembered clearly. “Last year. Memorial Day weekend in Mexico City. I flew down there to see you. We drank like Navy guys and partied our asses off.”

Carr collapsed against Jesse and kissed his cheek again: warm, bristly, and a little moist. The perfect kiss from a man who doesn’t kiss men.

Jesse didn’t know how to respond to the second kiss. They were best friends, not lovers. Jesse felt weak in the knees, off balance. Carr shook hands with him and sometimes hugged him after not seeing him for a string of months. Never had the guy kissed him, though. Not once. And never had they gotten naked together and…messed around. Their relationship wasn’t like that. Carr was his friend. Only his friend, and Jesse respected that, refusing to cross a questionable line with the sexy guy.

Jesse wanted to kiss him back, but didn’t. Couldn’t was more like it since Carr was unromantic and uninvolved with people, both women and men. Jesse thought it was best not to make an ass out of himself or cross that line of friendship. He backed away from Carr.

“Let’s get you out of here. Climb into my truck where it’s warm. I’ll toss your bag in the back.”

The bag weighed heavy on Jesse’s back as he carried it to the truck and plopped it inside the Ranger’s bed. Through the truck’s back window, he watched his best bud jump inside the vehicle, closing the door. Four words surfaced in Jesse’s mind that maybe shouldn’t: I’m smitten with him.

* * * *

Carr looked out the front window, maybe watching the snow fall against the truck’s headlights. “I called you using the cabbie’s cellphone. Honestly, I didn’t get one since I just got out of the jungle this morning. I was hoping you could help me.”

“I’ll help you. There’s a Verizon store in town. We can go in the morning and hook you up,” Jesse said, shifting his view from Cinder Black Road to Carr’s profile: dark hair and eyes, thick eyelashes, stubble on his cheeks and chin. Handsome for thirty-eight. A pleasure to look at and study. “You’ve lost some weight.”

“Twenty. Maybe thirty pounds. I’m not sure. Working in the jungle does that. Plus, my diet has mostly consisted of beans, grains, water, and some dairy. The village I’ve been living in and helping to build is a no-kill zone for animals, which I respect.” Carr chuckled and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Truth told, I wouldn’t mind eating a steak. Something thick with some fat. Wouldn’t mind that at all.”

The truck bounced up and down. Jesse changed gears and turned on Smill Road. Mental notes formed: cellphone and steak. He added shower to the list. Carr’s strong, masculine aroma escaped the Ecuadorian jungle and now permeated the cab of the truck.

“You taking Dart Hollow Road back to your place?”

“Can’t do that,” Jesse said. “The bridge is out. A flood happened a few weeks ago between snowstorms. I’ll take Glessner instead.”

“I know Glessner well. It’s not a bad road.”

Carr just didn’t know Glessner Road. He’d lived on it for almost eighteen years with his mother and father, Bernadette and Cash. The Tudor still stood next to the road. When Cash died of a heart attack ten years ago, Bernadette sold the thirteen acres and house. She moved south to be with her younger sister, Camilla, in Waco, Texas.

“New family’s living in your old house. Two men and a baby. Nice guys. They own the Plimpton Dairy and Chocolate Factory in town.”

Carr chuckled. “That will get the community talking. We both know it’s not as liberal as it could be. Gays living in the area is somewhat accepted, but two daddies and a baby might not be. Not that I care, of course. You know things like that never bothered me. I like differences in the world.”

Jesse slowly passed the once-de Vantino Tudor so Carr could get a good look at the place through the falling snow and darkness.

“Not much to see,” Carr said.

“Not really. Davey and Mitch are handling their baby, Gwen, just fine. The community is taking a liking to the three. Plimpton’s making changes every day and thinking outside the box.”

“Good to know. Makes me proud to have grown up here.”

“Likewise.” Jesse made a left on Killford Birch Way and headed for his A-frame and whatever else the evening provided.

* * * *

Jesse watched Carr carry his heavy bag from the truck into the A-frame. Carr was just a few feet in front of him, crunching through the snow and over icy cobblestones adjacent to the asphalt drive. Nice ass in worn jeans, narrow hips, broad shoulders. A prize to win in the handsome department.

“Same room?” Carr asked over his right shoulder.

“Same room,” Jesse responded. He caught up with Carr, unlocked the A-frame’s front door. The two men stepped inside.

Jesse flicked on lights and lit up the first floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the snow-covered front deck and lake. Oak furniture. Fireplace with hot, orange-gold embers inside. Large Scandinavian sofa. A rocking chair. Kitchen to the far right. Small bathroom in the rear. A narrow stairwell to the far right led to two bedrooms, side by side.

Jesse said, “As usual, make yourself at home. My stuff is yours.”

“Will do,” Carr answered, yawning, probably exhausted from his long and bumpy travels.

As Carr climbed the steps, Jesse called out, “Will you have a drink with me?”

“No can do! Hope you don’t mind, but I want a hot shower and sleep.”

“No problem. I understand!”

Jesse prepared himself coffee with two shots of whiskey. He watched Carr walk down the stairs to the first floor in nothing more than a pair of snug boxer-briefs the same dark blue as a spring moon. Outlined cock in cotton, muscular chest covered in black hair, slightly bow-legged, proportional biceps. Still nice to look at, even if he lost some weight. Not emaciated. Just right.

Carr made a right for the bathroom.

Jesse called out, “Towels are fresh. I put a razor, new bar of soap, shampoo, and shaving cream out for you.”

“Better than the Holiday Inn.” Carr stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

* * * *

Jesse stoked the fire and added two logs, bringing it to life. He didn’t put the metal screen back in front of the hearth, but maybe he should have. He sat down on the sofa with his coffee and a hardback copy of Marie Semple’s Today Will Be Different. Unable to read, he looked at the closed, bathroom door. Hot mist rolled out from under the door and wafted about the living room area. He sipped his coffee and placed his book aside.

Carr would stay for the next few days, four tops. Then he would take a flight to Texas to spend a week with his mother and aunt. After that, he was supposed to fly back to Ecuador, north of Quito, to help his Armistice Coalition team at a new village.

Jesse knew his friend’s visit would be short in Plimpton. Frankly, their entire adult relationship had been nothing less. How many times had Jesse flown around the world to see Carr during Carr’s career with AC? Too many for Jesse to count in the last twenty years. Jesse’s stayovers were also brief in the foreign cities he visited while seeing Carr. Usually, they ate meals together and drank before Jesse had to hop on a plane again and fly home. He’d flown to Key West, and they’d snorkeled together. In London, they had high tea. In Springbok, South Africa, they handled asps with a professional snake handler. And Jesse couldn’t forget the time they went sky diving over the Outback. No matter how short their time was together, Jesse always had a good time.

Carr came out of the bathroom with a wet chest and a cotton towel wrapped around his center. His full head of Italian hair gleamed faint blue because of the light. “I feel great now. Best shower I’ve had in months.”

“And you smell better,” Jesse said, chuckling. “I almost puked in the truck while driving you here.”

Carr laughed, moved up to the fire in the towel, and said, “Changed my mind about that drink, if you don’t care.”

“No worries, friend. I’m on it.”

Jesse stood and headed to the kitchen. Honestly, he would have done anything for Carr, smitten with the man. Maybe not in love with him, but definitely smitten. Although the two had never been romantic in their past friendship, Jesse wouldn’t have minded kissing and holding Carr in his arms, among other things.

From the living room, among the sounds of the crackling fire and wind blowing against the front windows, Carr called out, “Make mine extra strong! I want to sleep like a baby tonight!”

“Noted!” Jesse yelled over his shoulder, adding an extra whiskey to Carr’s coffee. Jesse returned to the living room and passed Carr his mug of whiskey-coffee.

He must put some clothes on. The guy is just too hot to be standing around with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Thanks, man,” Carr said, taking the drink.

Jesse found a seat on the sofa again. His gaze strayed to Carr’s hairy chest: pink nipples, rounded pecs, perfectly cut abs, no fat. The place between Jesse’s legs came to life without a touch, twitched, and stilled. Jesse studied the man’s bare shoulders and biceps. Carr’s labor in the jungle benefitted him.

Carr took a sip of his drink, back facing the hissing, burning fire, and said, “Good brew.” Then he saw the book next to Jesse and asked, “What are you reading?”

Jesse blinked a few times. “What?” He looked from Carr’s naked and chiseled torso to the hardback novel to his left. He mumbled, “The new one by Marie Semple.”

“She’s not big on white, upper-class methods, is she?”

“Not particularly. She jokes about it in her fiction. It’s nicely done.” Jesse took a sip of his coffee. “You read the copy of Where’d You Go, Bernadette? that I recommended?”

Carr nodded. “I did. I read it on a flight from New York City to Congo. Funny stuff. Great read. I passed it onto Roberto, but I don’t think he got the American humor behind it.”

Roberto Isbar, Jesse thought. I don’t even know the man, but I don’t like him. Why is Carr always bringing him up?

The fire crackled, and a hot spark flew off one of its burning logs, spitting it out of the hearth. The spark landed against the back of Carr’s right leg, nailing its meaty calf. Carr jumped forward, yelped like a girl, and spilled coffee and whiskey all over the hearth’s rug, the oak floor, and his feet. Quickly, he placed the almost-empty mug on the wooden table in front of Jesse and accidentally lost the towel, letting it drop to his feet. He jumped up and brushed the back of his right leg with a palm.

“Jesus Christ! That stung.”

Jesse could have handled the few seconds better. Open-mouthed, caught up in his own little fascinating world of liking Carr de Vantino far too much, his gaze caught on Carr’s private parts: V-patch of nicely cut pubic hair above a dangling cock, swinging sack of hairy balls, and muscular inner thighs. Jesse licked his lips. He sighed. He felt light-headed. His dick jumped to life again, and he felt a drop or two of wet and sticky pre-ejaculate leak out of his cock’s head, moistening his cotton briefs.

He whispered, “Jesus,” caught up in the moment, lost and confused.

Carr bounced on his feet once, twice, three times. He quickly brushed at his calf several times and shared a few vulgarities.

Jesse snapped out of his delusional state and jumped off the couch. He immediately fell to his knees next to the coffee table, lunged for the towel, and started wiping up the spilled drink.

Finally, Carr stopped pouncing in front of the hearth, regaining his composure. He stood above Jesse and said, “That stung like a motherfucker. That’s what I get for standing too close.”

Jesse turned his head to the left and…

Carr’s dangling balls and cock were inches away from his mouth. Posed there. For the taking. Something. He decided not to take a taste, being on his best behavior, and turned his head to the right, back to his job, sopping up the spilled beverage with the bath towel from the oak floor. His erection subsided.

“Did the spark leave a mark on your leg?”

“No. Nothing crazy. Just a red spot. No real burn,” Carr replied. “But it still hurt like an asp outside Cairo.”

Jesse couldn’t relate the bite of asp and licked his lips, blinked a few times, and told Carr, “Go upstairs to your room and get some clothes on. You’re going to freeze to death down here in the buff.”

Carr stepped forward, closer to Jesse, and instructed, “Wipe the coffee off my feet.”

Honestly, Jesse would have done more if Carr wanted him to, since Carr’s private parts were hanging next to his face. All Jesse had to do was open his mouth, slip the tip of his best friend’s dick inside his mouth, and let the act of seduction of Carr take over.

Continuing to be on is best behavior, Jesse kept his mouth closed and speedily wiped coffee and whiskey off Carr’s feet. One swipe. Two blots. Another swipe. The deed was done before he realized.

“Thanks, man.” Carr ruffled Jesse’s ginger hair. “You’re the best thing I’ve got going on in my life.”

It isn’t true, Jesse thought. There are better things in his life. He has his AC group and family. He has places like Ecuador and the jungle. He has underdeveloped villages throughout the third-world countries that need his hard labor and help. He has deprived families who need and want his attention, houses to be built, love to be shared. He has…Roberto Isbar.

“Forget the clothes. I should just go to bed. I’m exhausted,” Carr said.

“You should. Sorry about the fire. Next time I’ll put the screen in front of the hearth.”

Carr walked away, shifting his tight and hairless bottom from left to right, and said over his right shoulder, “No problem, Jesse. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

Jesse nodded, standing. “Good night, friend.”

“Good night, Jesse. See you in the morning.”

Hard between his legs, Jesse watched the naked man walk up the steps. Black head of hair, strong shoulders, muscular back, nice hips like a soccer player’s, taut rear, dangling balls between thighs, legs, the red welt from the fire’s fury on his left calf, his ankles and feet. Gone. Carr vanished into the upstairs, leaving Jesse again. Always leaving his side. No matter what the circumstances entailed. No matter where they were in the world. Always.

Jesse Fitzpatrick couldn’t sleep that night. No, not true. Jesse chose not to fall asleep. Rather, he stayed up and had a few more cups of coffee with whiskey. More whiskey than coffee, if the truth be told. He slumped into the sofa next to the now screen-covered fire, and his mind drifted to his past with Carr de Vantino…

* * * *

Plimpton Middle School. Age fourteen. Wrestling in gym class. Chests pressed together. Legs entwined. Gym teacher Lance Alder instructing the two of them to practice a variety of wrestling moves: headlock, bear hug, arm bar, cradle, the lift, the back step, half nelson. Innocent moves between boys who will soon be young men. Pinning each other to the mat. Sweating against cheeks. Private parts touching. Legs locked together. Unmoving.

Carr grunting, “Say uncle…Say uncle…Say uncle.”

Plimpton High School. The track team. Running beside each other in their tight shorts and Nike shoes. Bouncing up and down. Huffing. Sweating. The fifty-yard dark. The one hundred-yard dash. Miles and miles of running around the track together. Kicking up dust. Racing each other. Always competing as boys. Toe-off. Blocking. Takeoff. Changeovers. Bounding. Miles and miles of running. Unstoppable boys. Huffing. Puffing. Chests rising and falling. More perspiration. Boys in motion. Running. Running. Running.

Outside the Midway Convenient Store after track practice. Year seventeen. One of the worst (and best) days of their lives together. Buying a bottle of Gatorade. Sharing the liquid. Jesse sipping from the bottle. Carr sipping from the bottle. Some jackass named Mike Deter, a bully, an asshole, stepping up to them. Ready to give the friends some shit. A bully being a bully.

He calls out to Jesse, “Hey, faggot! Suck me off! Let me jack my load inside your mouth! You want that! I know you do! You like to eat cum!”

And Carr de Vantino saving the day, yelling to Deter, “Knock it off!”

And Deter laughing, still being a bully, yelling back to Carr, “I know you fuck his ass! I know you two are fudge packers!”

Carr losing his temper. Carr snapping. Carr beating Deter with two fists. Using Deter as a punching bag. Screaming, “Leave us alone! Leave us alone! Leave us alone!”

More at Plimpton High School. Getting detention because they go swimming in the school’s pool after hours and without a lifeguard on duty. Mermen in the chlorine-smelling pool. Michael Phelps wannabes. Olympians. Dunking each other. Touching the bottom of the pool in its deep end, together, at the same time. Twelve feet down. Twelve feet that feel like twenty thousand leagues under the sea. Laughing together. Splashing. More dunking. Carr trying to pull Jesse’s suit off. Tugging on the material. Trying to steal the suit.

And Coach Jenkins catching them in the pool after hours. Yelling at them. “Get out! You two could drown in there! Get out now! Three days of detention for the both of you! What the hell were you two thinking?”

Adulthood. Age twenty-two. Jesse’s younger sister’s first wedding, Jilly. Downtown Pittsburgh. On the steps of the Cathedral del Angelo. A Catholic church. David Accula dressed in his black and plum-colored tuxedo, his six groomsmen standing around him. Photos snapped by Frankie Petrula, a hired photographer for the wedding event. Carr also in his tuxedo, standing next to Jesse. Holding Jesse against him.

David instructing the seven men, “Closer…get closer.”

Carr squeezing himself against Jesse. Carr’s right hand accidentally (purposely?) falling against Jesse’s rump. Palm rubbing over Jesse’s buttocks. Staying there for a second…two seconds…three seconds.

Carr steering the hand up to the nape of Jesse’s back, whispering, “Sorry about that,” as David clicks…clicks…clicks his expensive camera and smiles. Jesse with a surprised look on his face, mouth hanging open.

Summertime and swimming off the coast of Australia. Bondi. So beautiful. Stunning. The half-hour train ride from Sydney to the beach. The wide strip of soft sand backed by the promenade. A crowded area. Two clubs: The North Bondi RSL and Icebergs. The breezy, coastal path where they take a stroll together. Carr joking about eating kangaroo meat, calling Jesse mate, Aussie, and Kelpie. Laughing together. Swimsuits tight against their hips. Sweaty bodies. Sun beating down on them.

Their short visit in Madrid, Spain. Sitting across from each other at a two-person table in a tiny café called Del Rio Lampara. Knees touching under the table. Eye contact. Both drinking a cold latte flavored with orange peel (toque de leche naranja). Talking about Jesse’s flight from Pittsburgh to New York City and then to Madrid. Talking about bullfighting and the works of El Greco. Alejandro San’s “Amiga Mia” falling out of the ceiling’s speaker. Staring…staring…staring at each other. Just the two of them and no one else on the planet. Always staring at each other.

A walk together in London with Carr. Just the two of them, again. Alone. Side by side. Never holding hands. Shoulders sometimes rubbing together. Standing in front of Big Ben and admiring the massive clock and its hands. Feeling the thick and cold air at the north end of the Palace of Westminster. Studying its Pugin design of Gothic Revival.

Carr saying, “It’s 315 feet tall. The four clock dials are 180 feet long and…”

* * * *

Those past events slowly faded from Jesse’s mind. But then he thought of his nemesis and whispered the name out loud, “Roberto Isbar.”

Curious, he reached for his tablet on the shelf beneath the coffee table and clicked it on. For the next half-hour, he attempted to search for anything he could find on the man, but came up empty-handed. Roberto didn’t have a Facebook page, Twitter account, or Instagram account. After a prolonged search on the Internet, he didn’t find a single thing about Roberto Isbar. Frustrated, he turned off the tablet and returned it to the shelf under the coffee table where it belonged.

He drank. More than he should have. Lots.

And then he fell asleep on the sofa, tucked in its corner.

Jesse couldn’t remember when Carr woke him up and walked him upstairs. Nor could he recall the time when Carr slipped into bed beside him, together at last, sleeping next to each other, side by side. The way things were meant to be in Jesse Fitzpatrick’s life. Perfection.

* * * *

Saturday, April 15, 2017

Carr snored, one arm flopped over Jesse’s middle. Jesse felt the guy’s naked chest against his back, and Carr’s morning wood pressed against his bottom. Carr’s snores became louder, almost unbearable, and next to impossible to sleep through.

Doesn’t matter, Jesse thought. The sun’s out, and it wants to play. Time to get up.

He didn’t get up, though. Instead, he lay there for the next few minutes, relishing Carr de Vantino’s naked body against his own, loving that moment together and listening to Carr snore. Jesse felt the man’s chest inflate and deflate against his back as Carr breathed. He also felt the man’s warm breath and Carr’s firm nipples.

The bedroom filled with Carr’s continuous strings of snoring, not that Jesse minded. In fact, he craved the sound and being close to his traveling friend, caught up in their confused togetherness. He was unsure why Carr had retrieved him from the living room sofa in the middle of the night and walked him upstairs, but maybe he would find out soon. Nor could he understand why Carr climbed into bed with him, sleeping next to Jesse throughout the rest of the night. None of it made sense. But again, he didn’t care, savoring the moment with Carr, desiring nothing less, totally smitten for the man, even when he shouldn’t have been.

Carr stirred, groaning, but he didn’t wake, lost in sleep, exhausted from his world travels.

How strange, Jesse thought. He can go anywhere in the world, endlessly traveling, and Carr travels to my bed, sleeping with me through the night. How lucky for me. How fortunate. Even if I’m confused.

Jesse didn’t turn around and begin to make love to the man, waking Carr up; although it did cross his mind. Rather, he stayed a gentleman, honorable, and climbed out of bed. He went downstairs, made a pot of coffee, and decided to make breakfast: ham and cheese omelets, buttered toast, and freshly squeezed orange juice.

Carr came downstairs at approximately half past eight. He wore nothing but a pair of fresh boxer-briefs that clung to his center. His hair was mussed, and he smelled like bed sweat; nothing a quick shower couldn’t take care of.

Jesse poured his guest a cup of coffee and told him to sit down at the two-person table.

Carr listened, smelling the java.

“You need some clothes on, guy,” Jesse said, staring at Carr’s firm nipples and goose pimples on his arms. “The house is chilly this morning.”

“I’m fine,” Carr replied, blowing on his coffee to cool it down. “Sleeping in the jungle. That’s talking cold. The temperature drops fairly low during the rainy season. It’s chilly as hell, which means the temp in here isn’t so bad.”

“Suit yourself,” Jesse said, sliding a freshly prepared omelet on Carr’s plate.

He wondered if Carr would mention why he had slipped into Jesse’s bed and spent most of the night next to Jesse. How strange it had felt to Jesse, filling him with uncertainties and questions regarding his friendly relationship with Carr, including lines that may have been crossed the night before.

To no avail, while eating across from Carr, staring at his chiseled chest and taut nipples, smelling coffee and eggs, Jesse realized Carr wasn’t going to mention the night before. Therefore, Jesse thought about calling Carr out, but didn’t, keeping the topic off limits. Instead, he kept his tongue under control and simply ate.

The two men talked about Carr’s traveling adventures the day before, exiting South America. Jesse learned that getting through customs after returning from Ecuador seemed like a challenge and twice the amount of time it had usually taken Carr. Plus, leaving Miami took forever because of a rain delay. No wonder why Carr was so tired when he finally entered the A-frame the previous evening.

Then they talked about how it was still snowing outside and Mother Nature slapping Plimpton with below average temperatures, maybe pissed off and moody.

Carr confessed he rather liked the snow. “Trust me, I don’t see it at all in the jungle, missing it.”

“Take some back with you when you go,” Jesse replied. “We’ve had plenty this past winter and spring. There’s enough to go around for many countries to have in South America.”

Strangely, Carr became quiet, perhaps at a loss for words, Jesse thought. Or maybe Carr was just hungry since he shoveled another forkful of egg, ham, and cheese into his mouth. Jesse wasn’t sure. It was odd of Carr not to return a comment, though, skilled at conversing with people over a meal, particularly with Jesse, since they had been friends for the last thirty-plus years and chatted regularly, sometimes even endlessly.

Carr chewed and swallowed, and took a sip of the hot coffee in front of him. “I have a favor to ask you, Jesse.”

“Shoot, guy. Tell me what you need, and I’ll provide. Anything you want, and it’s yours.”

Carr locked eyes with Jesse. “Your truck. Any way I can borrow it for the day? I have a few things to take care of, if you don’t mind.”

Jesse grinned. “No problem. I have things around here I need to do, anyway. The truck has a full tank of gas, which you don’t have to replace. My treat.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

Jesse raised his orange glass and told Carr, “I want to make a toast.”

“Sure.” Carr raised his own orange juice.

Jesse said, “To having you safely returned to me…To harmless travels in the future…And to friendship.”

“To friendship,” Carr chanted.

The two men clicked glasses together, bonding.

Another meal together, Jesse thought. Well worth my time and heart.

* * * *

Following breakfast, Carr decided to take a morning shower, and Jesse started to clean up the breakfast dishes. Jesse’s cellphone sat on the kitchen counter and rang. After drying off his hands on a dish towel, pausing from washing the meal’s dishes, he picked up the phone.

“Jilly…I’ve got my hands full right now. Can I call you back?”

Jilly Fitzpatrick agreed, irritation in her tone. “Don’t make it long. I know this is how you sometimes ignore me.”

“Of course, not.”

Jesse hung up. Carr stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

Déjà vu all over again from last night, Jesse thought.

Carr popped into the kitchen, still wet from his shower, smelling of Ivory soap and avocado shampoo. As he fetched another cup of coffee, he said, “By the way, don’t worry about driving me into town for a cellphone. I’ll get one at some point today.”

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Jesse said, continuing to wash dishes.

“Thanks, bud.”

Again, the topic of Carr slipping into bed with Jesse in the middle of the night wasn’t brought up. Jesse did become somewhat bothered, though, unsure of Carr’s questionable advancement the night before and waking up to him this morning. He needed to know why Carr did what he did.

As Jesse continued washing the breakfast dishes, Carr carried his cup out of the kitchen area and called over one of his shoulders, “Getting dressed. I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes. I have lots to do today.”

Jesse acted as if he didn’t hear Carr and thought, nothing about you is ever in my hair. Never will that happen.

* * * *

After Carr left, thanking Jesse for the use of his truck, Jesse finished the breakfast dishes. Then he decided to call his sister back. He stood in front of the vast, living room windows that overlooked the icy lake and falling snow. She picked up in Pittsburgh on the first ring.

“That took you a while to call me back,” Jilly said, inadvertently rough around the edges, more of a tomboy than a woman, and always blunt and to the point.

“Carr’s here and…”

Jilly interrupted him. “You need not say anything more. I know the crush you have on the guy. He consumes all your interest and always has. We both know he’s the number one man in your life. How long is he there for?”

“Four days. Something like that. Then he’s flying down to Waco to be with his family before he heads back to Ecuador to play in the jungle with a guy named Roberto.”

“Carr’s a busy man,” Jilly said. “Why’s he up in these parts?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t ask him. Thought it would be crossing a line. I honestly just think he’s here to visit. Right now, he’s out getting a new cellphone and other things. Banking or something. As I said, I’m not sure.”

“Busy man,” Jilly repeated. “That was nice of you to lend him your truck. Stay out of his way and let him get his shit done. Maybe he’ll finally fall for you and realize you’re the greatest guy in his world.”

Jesse sighed. “I doubt that will happen to him. He’s hard to keep in one place. He’s a traveling man, don’t forget.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t love you, Jesse. Everyone needs love. He could still travel around the world and have you as his lover. Don’t get me wrong, I like Carr de Vantino, but he’s clueless what he has in you. The perfect man is right in front of him, and he’s never acted on it. To tell you the truth, it makes no sense to me. You two have been close, the best of friends, ever since you were kids. I just don’t know why you can’t be lovers in your adulthoods.”

“Welcome to my world, Sis. You just took the words out of my mouth.”

“Is he seeing a lady friend? A woman?”

“Don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not sure if he’s into women these days. Could be.”

“Because he’s been known to have a girlfriend.”

“Friend is the key word there. As far as I know, he never slept with a woman. He’s only kept girlfriends for their company, not for sex.”

“True. True,” Jilly said, obviously thinking of her past, intimate conversations with Carr. “The man’s a mystery. He’s always made me question his sexuality. Does he want to sleep with men or women? Who knows? Not that it matters, though, of course. That’s his business.”

“I’m pretty sure men,” Jesse said. “Roberto Isbar is in the picture. Carr talks about him a lot and what they do together in Ecuador.”

“Is this guy Roberto his boyfriend?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t ask Carr. I think they’re just friends who work together, but I’m not sure.”

“Maybe you should ask him how he feels about Roberto. It wouldn’t be crossing a line, in my opinion. Find out who the guy is and where Carr stands with him.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jesse said.

“Wrong!” Jilly snapped at him. “Stop thinking and start acting. It makes all the difference in the world. Plus, it gets things done.”

“I’ll do that,” Jesse whispered, deciding then and there to change the subject since Jilly just barked at him.

They talked about Jilly’s second wedding the following weekend in Pittsburgh. Jesse intended to make the drive from Plimpton to Pittsburgh on Friday morning. The rehearsal dinner was Friday night at an uppity restaurant called The Breezewood, seven o’clock. He had reservations to stay at the high-end Windmar Grand Hotel in downtown Pittsburgh, renting a room for two nights that overlooked the three rivers.

Jilly reminded him, “You have to be at the church by one on Saturday. Don’t forget.”

“Basin Methodist, right?”

“Yes. Along the Monongahela River. The address is on a card with your invitation. If you lost it, Google that name.”

“I have it,” Jesse said.

Jilly asked, “Are you bringing Carr as your date since he’s in town?”

That would be nice, Jesse thought. But it wasn’t possible.

He somberly told Jilly, “He’ll be in Texas by next weekend. Nothing holds him down.”

“Well, if plans change, he’s always welcome. You know that. He’s like a second brother to me.”

Jesse cleared his throat and became quiet. His mind started to turn in circles, filling with thoughts of Jilly’s wedding with her beloved, the one and only Mr. Tanner Raymond Westinghouse, Carr’s return to Plimpton, his short stay, and…Carr slipping into bed with him last night.

Jilly asked, “Earth to Jesse. You there?”

“I’m here.”

Jilly caught on, always reading him well, and asked, “What’s going on? You’re not bubbly like you usually are. Let me be the younger sister who can maybe listen out your problems. Be honest with me. I want to know.”

“I don’t have any problems,” Jesse whispered. “Everything’s fine here.”

“I’m calling you out. I don’t believe you. Something’s on your mind. You love weddings and traveling to see me. It’s one of your favorite things to do. There’s no excitement in your tone, though. No life. Something’s up, and you need to tell me.”

She was right. Jesse adored attending weddings and traveling to Pittsburgh to visit his sister. How acute she was, picking up on his challenging mood and situation with Carr.

Jilly spoke softly, an edge of niceness in her tone. “Spiel it, Jesse. We tell each other everything. Now’s not the time to hold back. What’s going on?”

Jesse told her about drinking too much the previous evening, falling asleep on the sofa in front of the fire, and how Carr woke him up and walked him to his room. “He spent the night with me. Naked. But we didn’t have sex. We just slept together. He did have an erection this morning, though.”

“Morning wood?” Jilly asked, direct as usual.

“Yeah.”

“Typical for a man. Tanner gets them every morning. I’m rather thankful for them.”

Silence on Jesse’s end. Nothingness. Dead air. Jilly had said too much about her fiancé; a certain detail he didn’t want to hear.

“Jesse?” Jilly inquired. “Did I lose you?”

“Never talk about Tanner’s dick now that he’s going to be my brother-in-law.”

Jilly laughed, promising. Then she grunted, paused, and said, “I admit, you caught me off guard with all this information about Carr. What’s he up to? He’s never slipped into bed with you before, right?”

“Never. Not once.”

“Strange, Jesse. I don’t get it.”

“Nor do I.”

“Maybe we’re not supposed to get it.”

Jesse shrugged, staring at the wind and snow beyond the A-frame’s living room windows, thinking of Carr driving somewhere with his truck. Always thinking of Carr de Vantino. “Who knows? I just know I’m confused.”

“And maybe Carr is, too.”

“Maybe. Again, I’m not sure.”

Then Jilly’s voice lifted with new life, and she said, “Ask him about it. What do you have to lose? Just come out and question him about his actions. Again, stop thinking about it and start acting. Knowing Carr, which I do, he’ll be honest with you. The guy’s never kept anything from you.”

Jesse faintly smiled, listened to the fire crack in the hearth to his right, and nodded. He told his sister, “I’ll give it a try.”

“Do it. Don’t just try.”

He laughed, always thrilled to talk about life with her, even if their conversations became somewhat ugly, irritating, or difficult. “I’ll will. Promise.”

“That’s my big brother.” She told him she loved him and couldn’t wait to see him on Friday at the dress rehearsal. “We’ll talk soon.”

Jesse ended the conversation with a goodbye.

Jilly clicked off.

* * * *

Jesse worked a few hours on his laptop for his employer, a financial organization called Wessmon Services Incorporated. He sent emails to his coworkers and clients, transferred funds for two clients, and created a spreadsheet of phone/Internet meetings for the upcoming week. Then he decided to tidy up the A-frame and make the beds in both bedrooms.

He made his queen-size bed first, tucking the sheet in and smoothing out the comforter. After fixing the four pillows on the bed, he went into Carr’s bedroom. Just as small as his own, oak boards creating the walls, oak floor, rustic bed, no dresser, a reading chair that matched the Scandinavian sofa in the living room. Jesse made the bed, smelling Carr’s scent on the sheet and pillows: Ivory soap, avocado shampoo, and light perspiration.

Jesse shouldn’t have missed the guy already, but he did. Never did he think he would ever feel codependent about a man. Not in this lifetime. And maybe not the next. But it had happened. Unconditionally. No wonder he picked up one of the pillows from Carr’s bed and pressed the cotton fabric to his nose, breathed in Carr’s strong scent, and felt a ripple of excitement wash through his body, flowing from the nape of his neck, down to his feet. Jesse felt warmly stung by the scent. Enamored. Lustful. Every way he shouldn’t have felt for Carr. For all the wrong reasons, maybe.

How long did he stand there like that, inhaling Carr’s world? Too long. Minutes. Shame on him. He felt half embarrassed by his own actions. Smitten for Carr de Vantino. Longing for the man. Wanting him. Desiring nothing less in a man. And knowing Carr was the epitome of a husband for Jesse: caring, a good listener, heartfelt, honest, and tender, among other traits of the heart.

Jilly is right, Jesse thought. Act, don’t think. Find out what you need to know about Carr. Who’s Roberto Isbar? Are they lovers? Is Carr into women? Why did Carr slip into bed with me last night? Why? Why? Why?

Enough. Jesse stopped consuming Carr’s traveling scent from the pillow and returned it to the bed. Then he exited the room, needing to accomplish other tasks before Carr returned from his truck adventures, whatever they entailed. Jesse had his sister and Tanner’s wedding present to wrap and the wedding card to sign. Also, he had to shovel the walk and sweep snow off the deck. Plus, he wanted to get back to his book, read a chapter or two of Semple’s tale and…

* * * *

7:59 P.M., Sunset

The familiar sound of Jesse’s truck door being slammed woke Jesse up during his evening nap. He immediately sat up on the sofa by the hearth, rubbed his eyes, yawned, and listened to Carr make his way from the truck to the A-frame, feet crunching over the snow and on the deck’s boards outside.

Jesse squinted, filling the room with light by flicking on an end table lamp just before Carr walked inside the house. As Carr slipped out of his Timberland boots and winter jacket near the glass, front door, Jesse asked, “How’d it go today?”

Carr pulled out a cellphone from his jeans and grinned like a little boy. “I’m part of the real world again.” He waved the phone to and fro. Excitedly, he said, “Twitter. Instagram. Facebook. Huffington Post. I have the world at my fingertips now. I’ve really missed that.”

“Good to know. I’m glad you’re happy. It sounds like you don’t miss the wilds.”

Carr stepped into the room and sat down in front of the fire, crossing his legs like a Native American Indian at a very important powwow. “To tell you the truth, I need a break from Ecuador. I miss the things that spoil us here in America.”

“Minus Trump, I hope,” Jesse said, knowing Carr was a Hillary supporter and Democrat.

Carr huffed. “Of course, minus Trump. I don’t have time for haters.”

“Me neither,” Jesse said, listening to Carr’s stomach growl. “Did you eat dinner?”

Carr shook his head. “I just got back from Ashtabula. No time to stop and eat.”

Jesse listened to Jilly inside his head, Act, don’t think. As the familiar voice floated between his temples, he asked Carr, “You had meetings with AC today?”

The company had a branch in Ashtabula, not two hours away.

Carr nodded. “I’m thinking about making some changes in my life. Maybe the jungle and third-world countries need a break from Carr de Vantino for a while.”

“I’m sure everyone needs a break from you occasionally,” Jesse joked.

In his best English accent, Carr told him, “Bugger off.”

They both laughed.

Jesse asked, “You thinking of not going back to Ecuador?”

Carr nodded, looking down at the cellphone in his right hand, staring at its blank, black screen. Then he looked up at Jesse and said, “I’ve taken care of villages and their people for so long. Now I’m thinking I should start taking care of me.”

“I respect that,” Jesse said, nodding. “It’s probably one of the most important things in life. If you can’t fully take care of yourself, how are you going to take care of a third-world village?”

“Exactly. So I had a meeting with Bill Lautner at AC and…”

Spit it out, Jesse thought. There’s no reason to keep it in. Be honest with me, just as Jilly said you would be. Let it out.

“Bill has a job opening at AC for me. He wants to know if I want to take it. It’s a three-year contract.”

“What kind of job?”

“A desk job. If I take it, I would be scheduling flights for AC members and organizing their expeditions around the world. Office work stuff. Paper pushing. A sit-on-your-ass kind of job.”

“Like what I do,” Jesse proudly said.

“Pretty much so,” Carr replied. “It’s more complex than what I’m explaining, but you get the drift.”

“Is it a work-from-home position?”

“I can work anywhere and do the job. It’s computer-based.”

Jesse asked, “So, you can work in Waco and start a life there, right?”

Carr didn’t respond at first. His view tilted down to his phone, rose, and he said, “I guess so. Or anywhere I want.”

“Sounds like a promising change. Do you think you’ll be comfortable doing something outside the jungle?”

“I believe so. Don’t know until I really get my hands dirty doing it. Who knows? I could be the worst desk employee ever.”

Ask, don’t think, filled Jesse’s head again.

“What about Roberto? Will you two still be lovers?” The question wasn’t subtle. Jilly would have been proud of Jesse that he asked, heeding her advice.

Carr squinted and shook his head. The look on his face provided unclarity: crinkled eyebrows, closed nostrils, and tight lips. “We’re not lovers. Never were.”

“But I thought…”

Carr continued to shake his head. “We’re coworkers and friends. That’s all we’ll ever be. Besides, he likes women. He’s a good friend and nothing more. The guy has a girlfriend in South Africa named Umbra. A beautiful and charming model with a very successful career ahead of her.”

Jesse cleared his throat and whispered, “I’m sorry. I thought the two of you were boyfriends. I didn’t realize you weren’t since you’re always bringing him up.”

Carr chuckled. “I do talk about Ecuador and Roberto a lot. But he’s a friend. That’s all. We’ve worked side by side for years now and have gotten to really know each other. He’s my closest ally at AC, and he’s always had my back in the jungle, desert, and wherever else we end up in the world together. As for being attracted to him, he’s not my type. His skin is a little too dark for me.”

Ask, don’t think.

“What’s your type then, Carr, if Roberto Isbar isn’t?”

Carr huffed, grinned, and stood in front of the warm hearth. As he walked to the kitchen, he said over his right shoulder, “You know the answer to that already, Jesse.”

But Jesse didn’t. Honestly, he didn’t. And he probably would never find out the answer to his question. Case closed.

* * * *

They made hamburgers, French fries, and iceberg lettuce salads in the kitchen, shoulder touching shoulder. Roberto in Ecuador didn’t continue to be a topic. Nor was Carr’s meeting with Bill Lautner at AC. Instead, Jesse talked about Jilly’s upcoming wedding, the horrible gift he had bought the bride and groom, a twelve-quart crock pot, and where Jesse was staying while in Pittsburgh, feeling he was overcharged for his two nights.

Carr rehashed stories of their youth: playing softball together, swimming, and watching the movie Porky’s without their mothers’ consents. He brought up their graduation day from Plimpton High School and how he had left for Ashtabula, Ohio, the following day, already prepared as a young eighteen-year-old man to travel around the world and help those in need through AC.

Jesse brought up the high school day outside the Midway Convenient Store and how they shared a bottle of Gatorade.

Flipping their burgers in a skillet at the stove, Carr said, “We were seventeen. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Mike Deter called you a faggot.”

“I should have been haunted by that asshole forever in my life, but you protected me from him.”

“I told him to knock it off, but he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

Jesse laughed at Carr’s side, slicing cheddar cheese for their burgers. “You beat the shit out of him.”

“I did. He had two black eyes and a bloody lip when I was done with him. But he deserved it. Don’t be a bully and not expect to get the fuck beat out of you.”

“Especially by you,” Jesse added.

“Hell, yes.” Then Carr asked, “You know the irony of that day, concerning Deter?”

Jesse looked at Carr, falling into his eyes, knowing this moment was exactly what he wanted with the traveling man: marriage, togetherness, making dinner together on a cold April night after a long day. He smiled.

“I know exactly what you’re going to say.”

“Deter moved to West Hollywood, California, when he turned twenty-one and became a gay porn star. The guy ended up taking dick better than most queers. Curiosity killed me, so I watched a few of his vids.”

Jesse hunched over, laughing too hard. He reached out, grabbed Carr’s left bicep, and pleaded through tears, “You’re killing me.”

“Trust me. I’ve seen Deter in the movie South Pacific Marine Tales. Eight marines lined up and did a train on his ass. Deter took it like a man. Then he was sprayed down with all their loads.”

“Dis…disgusting.” Jesse laughed, still hunched over.

“You ever watch one of his movies?”

Jesse shook his head. “Never wanted to.”

“Well, you might be missing something. He’s the only adult actor I’ve seen take three cocks up his ass at the same time. I never thought it was possible, but bully Deter proved me wrong. I was actually impressed watching his shit movies.”

Jesse fell to his knees on the kitchen, howling, turning every shade of red. He grasped Carr’s left, meaty calf, squeezing the spot where he was burned the night before.

Carr yelped, pulled his leg away, and said, “That’s a sensitive area. Watch what you’re doing down there.”

Jesse looked up at his friend, serious now, and replied, “Sorry.”

Carr placed the burger spatula down and prepared to help Jesse off the floor by reaching down to him with both arms. They entwined arms together, and Carr used his superhero-like biceps, lifting Jesse up and off the floor, grunting.

Jesse fell into Carr by accident. Their chests met, and their lips almost crashed together.

Carr cupped two fingers under Jesse’s chin, looked square into Jesse’s green eyes, and asked, “Always trying to get close to me, aren’t you?”

Embarrassed, Jesse quickly pulled away, didn’t reply, and went back to slicing the block of cheddar cheese, thinking to himself, Smitten for him. In love with him. I don’t want tonight to end, but it will. It will. And soon.

* * * *

They ate in the kitchen, across from each other, with bottles of imported German beer. Topics included stories of Carr’s adventures in Kenya and Congo, Jesse’s goal to buy a new truck in the fall, and Carr’s letters to his mother and aunt in Texas.

As Carr was just about to bite into his burger, he asked, “Do you miss your mom and dad?”

Carr’s question was rhetorical, of course.

Jesse thought of Yolanda and Tim Fitzpatrick for the last eight years, every day. August 28, 2009 had been one of the worst days of his life. Yola, his mother’s nickname, and Tim had been driving through Indiana, returning from a week in the Black Hills after vacationing. A Danville tornado swooped down out of the sky during a thunderstorm and picked up his parent’s minivan. The van flew almost a mile away from where his father was driving on Route 36. When the vehicle landed, it rolled over approximately seven times, killing his parents.

Depression had taken over Jesse’s life for almost two years. Therapy followed. The accident and death of his parents had caused him to become estranged from his sister, Jilly, and strings of anxiety started to control his life, mixed with the continuous depression.

Following the third anniversary of his parent’s death, somehow, someway, he had snapped out of the anxiety, depression, and welcomed Jilly back into his life again. Truth told, though, the pain of losing his parents as a young man hadn’t left his world. How couldn’t he think of his parents every day and miss the two people who had loved and raised him into the man he was today?

To answer Carr’s question, Jesse said, “I do miss them. They were both a big part of my life.”

“And mine,” Carr said. “They helped raise me.”

Carr was right. Carr spent half his pre-adult life under Yola and Tim’s roof, right at Jesse’s side, and Jilly’s. Jesse’s parents fed the kid, gave him the advice he needed to survive, and became co-parents to Carr’s mother and father, Bernadette and Cash. All in all, Carr was more like a brother to Jesse than a best friend in their youths, always had been.

Carr added, “I miss them and think of them a lot. I loved growing up with you and wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Jesse swallowed a gulp of beer and grinned. “We did have some fun together, didn’t we?”

“We sure did. Every day was an adventure with you.”

Over more beers, they talked for the next half hour about their youths, rehashing stories of middle school and high school, remembered birthday parties, going camping together in Cook Forest in their early teens, and other fun-filled tales of innocence.

Before they both realized it, the half hour had turned into two hours, and it was almost midnight.

Jesse watched Carr yawn and told him, “You had a long day. Maybe you should turn in for the night.”

Carr nodded. “Oogg igea.”

Jesse chuckled, translating the two sounds as good idea. Then he told Carr, “I’m going to stay up for a while and read.”

Carr stood from the kitchen table and placed his beer bottles in a recycling bin near the kitchen sink. He gathered his dirty dishes off the table and started rinsing them.

Jesse stood. “Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll take care of them.”

“You sure?” Carr asked.

“Sure as sure.”

Prior to leaving Jesse in the kitchen, Carr moved up to the man, took him into his arms, clamped their chests together, and provided Jesse with a firm hug. He whispered to Jesse, “You’re a good guy. Thanks for taking me in for a few days.”

Jesse felt Carr’s lips against his earlobe, hanging there for a second, two seconds. He felt the man’s warm breath along his neck and part of his cheek. The breath caused goosepimples on his arms and a bolt of heated energy to rise through his spine, up to the nape of his neck.

When Carr pulled away, he told Jesse, “Night. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Never,” Jesse answered, wishing the man would have kissed him, locking their worlds together as one, there and then, two men maybe meant to be united.

Instead, Carr waved goodnight, shared a soft smile, and vanished from the kitchen, leaving Jesse behind and alone, just as he had always done in the last twenty years of their lives as friends. Only friends. Always.

Jesse cleaned up the kitchen after Carr went to bed. Then he sat up, reading next to the fire. He didn’t fall asleep on the sofa like the night before, though. Nor did Carr come to his rescue and walk him to bed. Rather, Jesse read forty pages of the Semple book, yawned, and decided to head to bed. He put the fire in the hearth to bed, adding a layer of coal to its top, brushed his teeth in the downstairs bathroom, turned out the A-frame’s downstairs lights, and walked up to his bedroom. He passed Carr’s bedroom first, listening to the man snore. Then he entered his own bedroom, undressed, and slipped under the warm sheet and comforter. Within minutes, he fell asleep.

* * * *

Sometime in the middle of the night, Carr’s voice stirred Jesse awake.

“Jesse, can I sleep with you?”

Feeling groggy, Jesse opened his eyes, felt Carr slip into bed next to him, realized the man was naked again, and sleepily replied, “Carr…what’s going on, guy?”

“I just want to sleep with you,” Carr whispered.

Jesse felt one of Carr’s arms slip around him and the man’s breath on the back of his neck.

“I just need to feel you,” Carr said. “I’ve been in the jungle and need some human contact. Roberto liked the ladies, not the men. I haven’t touched another human being in quite some time.” He moved his splayed hand along Jesse’s bare chest, grazing Jesse’s hairy pecs and abs. “But I can leave if you want me to.”

“Stay,” Jesse said. “I don’t mind.” Wide-eyed now, fully awake, and feeling nervous, he rolled on his back and stared at the dark ceiling.

“This feels good,” Carr said, fingering Jesse’s navel. “I hate to be alone sometimes.”

Jesse grew hard in his briefs, uncomfortable, but pleasured at the same time. He smelled Carr’s Ivory soap and light perspiration scent mixed with the avocado shampoo Carr had been using during his short stay, enjoying the aromas. Jesse stayed motionless against the man, barely able to breathe.

Recalling the previous night’s bedtime adventure with Carr, he asked, “Last night…You didn’t want to sleep alone, right?”

“I didn’t. Who really wants to? I couldn’t find you in here, though. Instead, you were downstairs, snoozing on the sofa. I walked you up here and slipped in next to you.”

“That was nice,” Jesse admitted. “I didn’t mind. Plus, it saved a kink in my neck from happening.”“

“I didn’t think you would mind, knowing how much you like me and all.”

Silence swirled within the room until Jesse asked, “You’re not going to Waco to live, are you?”

“How’d you guess?”

Jesse smiled, warm inside, enjoying the feel of Carr’s fingers against his chest as they strayed over his ribs, one by one. “I had a feeling.”

“I was thinking of finding a place here in Plimpton. An apartment of my own would be nice.”

“You could always stay here. There’s plenty of room. God knows we already get along. Hell, now we’re sleeping together like a couple.” Sarcastically, Jesse added, “Who knows what will happen next in this relationship?”

Carr gently pinched a nipple and squeezed Jesse against him. “I might take you up on staying here.”

“Please do. I rather like having you around. Always did. Always will.”

Carr left out a peaceful sigh. “Why do you like me so much, Jesse Fitzpatrick?”

“I can’t answer that. I just do.” Jesse turned on his side, facing the traveler, enjoying this intimate and private moment with him. “It’s too hard not to like you, if you want to know the truth and…” Jesse felt Carr’s fingers immediately move up and along his neck, over his chin, and press against his lips, cutting off his comment.

“Jesse,” Carr murmured. “I have something important to tell you.”

Jesse gently pulled Carr’s fingers away from his lips. “I’m sure you do. Spiel it. Whatever it is.”

A sigh filled the room. Jesse heard Carr swallow, then Carr admitted, “I left the jungle for you…for us. Do you know that?”

Jesse had. All too easily within the last two days with Carr de Vantino. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. The pieces of your puzzle were slipping together rather nicely and easily. I just didn’t pressure you about it, although maybe I should have.”

“I didn’t think it would be hard to figure out. Not that I wanted it to.”

Act, don’t think, filled Jesse’s mind. Jilly’s words. Jesse listened to the voice and took his sister’s advice, questioning Carr, “Who have you loved in your life throughout the years?”

“Before tonight?”

“Before tonight. Tell me. I want to know. We talk about everything except for your sex life and the people you’ve dated and fallen in love with.”

Carr chuckled. “I’ve never fallen in love with anyone…except for you.”

Flattered, Jesse smiled again in the darkness.

“I met a guy four years ago in Panama City. Rimando. A nice guy. Sweet. Very good looking. We had amazing sex together. Rough stuff. Kind of pornographic stuff, if you want to know the truth. But I didn’t fall in love with him.”

“Any women?” Jesse inquired, needing and wanting to know about the sexual gaps in Carr’s life that he didn’t know about during the man’s lengthy years of traveling alone.

“Never. I’ve been into men. Mostly you throughout the years, but I never acted on it…until now, of course.”

Jesse couldn’t fall asleep even if he was drugged. Alert and loving this moment with his best friend, he laughed and asked, “Does your mother and aunt know about you being gay?”

“Always. They caught onto me when I was young. I can’t remember the details. But I can tell you they both wanted me to me be with you for over ten years now. Neither has understood why we were never boyfriends or lovers.”

“It may sound conceited, but they’ve always liked me.”

It was Carr’s turn to laugh. “It’s not conceited. It’s a fact. They adore you.”

“Who else have you been with…sexually, Carr?”

“Two other guys. Men you don’t know. An Egyptian in Cairo. His name was Ammon. Dark skin and green eyes. An absolutely beautiful man. He was a little bossy with a short temper. That sort of turned me off about him. Then there was the Italian soccer player named Luciano. He and I were far too much alike, which always made me feel uncomfortable, although he was also good in bed. Those were the two love affairs in my life. Both lasted about eighteen months. Unfortunately, I didn’t love either of them. I simply had affairs with them for the sex, which wasn’t so bad, if I may say so. Although they were great men in different ways, I didn’t fall for them.”

Jesse didn’t share any of his prior sexual flings and boyfriend dramas with Carr because he had already told such tales to the man during the last twenty years. Never had he kept those events from Carr. Throughout the years, mostly by letters, and sometimes via short telephone conversations, Jesse had mentioned the Toms, Dicks, and Harrys he had dated, enjoyed relationships with, or simply had sex with. Never had he kept any secrets from Carr. Truth told, his life had been an open book for Carr, nothing concealed.

Eventually, Jesse asked, “Why me, Carr? Why do you like me?”

“The question should be why shouldn’t I like you? You’re everything to me, and you care about me more than I care about myself. Hell, you’ve traveled around the world just to see me. Maui. Brussels. Prague. Lima. You’ve gone out of your way to be with me and…” Car fell silent, filling the room with his heavy breathing, which proved he was nervous, on edge. “…can I kiss you now, Jesse Fitzpatrick?” Carr asked, breathing on Jesse’s face, smelling of their shared dinner of cooked beef, cheddar cheese, greasy fries, and salad.

“Is that what you want?” Jesse was dead serious, face to face with the man. Their naked chests were locked together under the sheet, warm comforter, and their hearts beat as one.

Carr slid a hand down to Jesse’s cock and wrapped his fingers around it, supplying it with a gentle squeeze and upwards stroke. “It’s what I want, Jesse. I never wanted anyone else.”

Act, don’t think.

Jesse whispered in the semi-darkness of the bedroom, “Do with me what you will then, Corralito de Vantino. I’m all yours for the taking. I’ve always been yours. Maybe you just never realized it.”

Carr responded with another quick squeeze and stroke to Jesse’s cock. Then he kissed Jesse for the first time, beginning something they couldn’t stop or tamp any longer.

They kissed for the longest time, becoming hard together. Dicks aligned as their mouths locked. And then Carr gently pinned Jesse to the mattress, slipping palms and fingers around Jesse’s wrists. Positioned over Jesse, Carr kissed the man’s neck, a shoulder blade, and both nipples. His mouth traveled down and over Jesse’s chest, around his navel. Carr eventually took the tip of Jesse’s cock inside his mouth, sucked on the head, released it, and provided the veined and pulsing, seven-inch stem a vertical lick.

Jesse’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his heart thudded dramatically as…as…as Carr slipped the tube of muscle back inside his mouth and started sucking on the swollen mass, releasing it, sucking…releasing…sucking.

“Jesus Christ, you’re good at that,” Jesse whispered, falling under the traveling man’s sex-spell. “Don’t stop.”

Carr wasn’t about to stop, Jesse perceived, lost under the traveling man’s care, embraced by his unstoppable touch. He removed Jesse’s wrists from his stern grip and teased Jesse’s ball sack. Then, without any notice whatsoever, an extended fingertip strayed to Jesse’s tight opening, brushed against it, up and down…up and down…up and down…and immediately caused Jesse to release a groan of euphoric bliss.

Jesse huffed. “Stop…before I come.”

Carr pulled away from him, finger and mouth, kneeling over the man, kissing his stomach once, twice, three times. When Carr was finished with the satisfying kisses, he asked, “Lube and a condom. Do you have any?”

Jesse could barely tell his guest where the items were because he was dizzy and lost his surroundings for a few seconds, but managed, heaving for breath, practically lifeless and sexually catatonic on the bed. Numb. Bewildered. Lost in a jungle somewhere. Far. Far. Far away from Plimpton and its mid-month, April chill.

* * * *

“Slipping inside you, Jesse,” Carr warned, steering his private part forward, carefully separating Jesse’s middle. Pushing…pushing…pushing his solid weight against Jesse, hiding his eight-inch cock inside his host’s tight bottom, both moaning in pleasure.

Jesse felt the man ride him, slowly sliding his cock deep inside him, pulling out, and sliding in again. Carr’s movement was like that of Pacific Ocean waves at twilight during a calm season. He glided forward, inside Jesse, glided backwards, gently pushed inside Jesse again, paused, and leaned over and kissed him. His ride continued at a slow and careful pace so he wouldn’t hurt Jesse. Riding. Sliding. Groaning. Pulling. Connecting.

Jesse lost his vision, blurry-eyed. He huffed several times as ten minutes, fourteen minutes, twenty-one minutes of Carr’s slow and steady movement inside of him continued. The bedroom spun around him, and his throat grew dry. His erection lay flat against his stomach, reaching up and past his navel, twitched.

He whispered up to Carr, “Coming,” unable to hold his pent load inside a second longer, exploding hot ejaculation over his abs and a pert nipple, dressing his skin with the fine, gluey, and white liquid.

“Impressive,” Carr said. “You came without even having your dick touched. I must be doing something right up here.”

More sliding, riding, pulling, and connecting made Jesse numb beneath Carr, in love with Carr, wishing he and Carr could spend the rest of their lives together, just like this moment. He listened to Carr’s breathing as it intensified, grew louder, and his chest heaved in and out. Suddenly, Carr’s movements quickened, pulsed, and he ground his teeth together. Perspiration dripped off Carr’s nose and nipples, falling against Jesse’s torso. Two hard bolts landed against Jesse’s rump. Then two more followed, and…and…

“Love…you,” Carr moaned, arching his back, gritting his teeth together, tightening his core, and firmly closed his eyes, coming inside the condom. He released his cargo, exhausted, and ended their first round of making love together.

Jesse thought it was better late, then never happening at all in his lifetime with Carr.

Carr fell on top of Jesse, splaying his chest over his host’s. Breathless, his condom-covered dick inside Jesse, he whispered, “I love you, Jesse Fitzpatrick. Everything about you. All of you. I should have told you this years ago, but…”

“Hush,” Jesse said, running a hand through Carr’s thick, Italian hair. “I know. I’ve always known. Let’s just say I was waiting for you to come around.”

“I’m a late bloomer with most things.”

They kissed.

After the kiss, Jesse said, “Late bloomer or not, you make me the happiest man in the world. Tell me you know that.”

“I’ve always known. I just didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe that’s why I hid in the jungle, trying to figure it all out. Years of hiding from you. Years of working. Avoiding how I’ve felt for you. Lying to myself day in and day out as I helped others when I should have been helping my heart and yours.”

Jesse kissed him again, pulled away, and said, “I’d be lying to us both if I didn’t say I loved you back. But, in retrospect, I think I’ve loved you since we were kids. I don’t know if that sounds ridiculous or not, but that’s how I’ve always felt about you, Carr. Every day of my life after we first met in middle school.”

Carr chuckled. “I believe that. Every word of it. You’ve always been smitten with me.”

“Smitten,” Jesse whispered. “It’s a nice word.”

“It’s a nice feeling to have for you,” Carr admitted.

“Shut up and kiss me.” Jesse laughed. “Then we’ll get a shower together, and who knows what else we’ll do.”

Carr kissed him: long and steady, passionately, unyieldingly, perhaps attempting to make up for years of love lost he had never shared with Jesse Fitzpatrick. Two decades caught and tangled in that single moment. Again, perfection.

* * * *

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Jesse couldn’t believe it finally stopped snowing in western Pennsylvania. The sun became a ball of fiery light that filled Basin Methodist, illuminating the maple pews, pulpit at the front of the church, and all its guests. The day’s temperature held at fifty-two degrees; the perfect weather for a bride and groom to be married. Jesse felt squeezed into the black and plum-colored tuxedo as he looked from left to right, standing in the line of six groomsmen at the front of the church on three carpeted steps.

Basin Methodist beheld beauty on various levels: stained glass windows depicting pictures of Jesus Christ on the cross; white lilies on the end of each pew; matrimonial guests dressed in their best attire, a splash of vibrant colors waving throughout the collected pews; Minister Dustin Meller standing next to the dashing groom, Tanner Westinghouse; harpist Lady Anne Bishop positioned far to Jesse’s right, performing Pachelbel’s “Canon”; Jilly walking down and between the pews in her elegant mermaid-style wedding dress; the handsome and aristocratic Frank Westinghouse, Tanner’s father, at her side, giving her away during this event; Jilly smiling from ear to ear, tears in her eyes, hands holding an arrangement of lilies, shaking.

Jesse shifted his gaze to a few of the guests, scanning their smiling faces and tear-filled eyes. So many he didn’t know. Strangers. He did see Tanner’s younger sister, Vivian, a beautiful Angelina Jolie look-alike in the first pew on the right side of the church, seated next to their mother, Louanne Caster-Westinghouse. Both were sobbing and dabbing tissues to their eyes and noses. Jesse’s aunts, Helen and Barbara, sat on the left side of the church with their stalky husbands in the first pew. He also studied the faces of his cousins, Jilly’s friends, and…

There he is, Jesse thought, smiling and feeling giddy inside, just like a child on Christmas morning.

Jesse’s heart started to thud violently within his chest as his gaze settled on Carr de Vantino, seated next to his mother and aunt, who had flown in from Waco for the event. The man looked quite handsome in his navy, pin-striped suit, fresh haircut, and lily boutonniere.

I love him, Jesse thought. I have always loved him and always will love him.

The last week had been a whirlwind of excitement in Jesse’s mostly-boring life: Carr arriving from Ecuador after being away for twenty-two months; Jesse rescuing Carr from the snowstorm; the two men catching up on their lives, chatting with drinks; Carr losing the cotton towel around his waist while standing in front of the hearth; Jesse drinking too much and Carr leading him to bed; Carr sleeping with Jesse; Carr admitting he had loved Jesse; the two men making love and…

Carr accepted the new position at Armistice Coalition, keeping out of the jungles and deserts of the world. The contract enabled him to stay homebound for the next three years.

Jesse agreed Carr could work out of the A-frame, claiming, “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

The other major event that transpired during the last week entailed a short conversation between the two of them, agreeing to take a few days off together, and maybe fly to Waco, Texas, to visit Carr’s family for an extended stay.

Jesse told Carr, “I’ve decided to make the two bedrooms upstairs into one giant room that overlooks the lake.”

Carr didn’t object, liking the idea.

The bride slowly walked down the aisle to the harp music.

Carr winked at Jesse.

Jesse winked back.

They both smiled.

Then Carr did something crazy, out of his mind, playful. Jesse watched him reach into his pin-striped jacket and pull out a manila-colored piece of paper. Carr unfolded the paper, held it up with both hands, just below his neck, and grinned from ear to ear.

The bold and black note on the paper read: I love you, Jesse Fitzpatrick!

Jesse lost his balance a touch, managed to keep from falling, and felt a tear slide out of his left eye and down his cheek. Anyone who saw would have believed he had started crying because of his sister’s special day and the wedding at hand, but the truth of the matter couldn’t be denied. Seeing Carr with his hand-printed sign had melted Jesse’s heart and soul, proving they were meant to be together. Only as lovers now, but maybe soon to be husbands. Maybe in a year from now. Two years. Who knew?

The only thing that Jesse really cared about was being with Carr de Vantino, at the man’s side, having him in his life and being able to share his heart with the man, and whatever else the two would embrace together in the years to come, as one.

Jesse mouthed in return, “I love you.”

Carr winked again.

Jesse winked.

Life became right for the two men at last. Perfection. Finally, perfection.

 

THE END