Chapter 15 Getting Kicks on Route 66
Call-me-Janet would not leave her son alone with his guests. She sat glued to her La-Z-Boy, gabbing her way through a laundry list of questions. It seemed to Matt like she was working up the nerve to ask something intrusive.
Meanwhile, Adam was the ghost of a beautiful boy, hovering on the periphery of the conversation, blinking occasionally, but otherwise disengaged.
Matt wished he could make the beautiful boy smile, that he could restore the spark that Colton and Dean Smith had extinguished.
Call-me-Janet motioned to Josh and Matt. “May I ask you all a personal question? How can you boys be so sure you’re …that way? Have you even tried dating girls? Adam hasn’t. His father thinks he should give it a chance.”
“Say the G-word, mom,” Adam said, his voice emotionless. “‘Gay.’ It’s not a disease.”
“I tried dating girls,” Matt said. “I was just going through the motions, and it didn’t change anything.”
“Ditto,” said Josh.
“GAY!“ Call-me-Janet blurted. “There, I said it.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes.
An awkward silence ensued.
Josh fidgeted nervously, held up his glass. “This is great tea, Mrs. Max—”
“Call me Janet,” Adam’s mom interrupted. “Please.”
Matt picked up the card and carried it over to the wingchair where Adam was sitting. Held it out. “SGA voted to send you this card. They wanted you to know that they care about you.”
Adam took it, began reading.
Matt could have stopped there—maybe should have stopped there—but he didn’t. He leaned down, dropped one hand to Adam’s shoulder, and with the other hand pointed out various signatures.
Adam flinched at the touch, looked up, searched Matt’s face, then smiled.
Matt squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then removed his hand.
Adam’s eyes flicked away and his smile faded. It had been a momentary, fleeting thing, but Matt’s heart raced all the same.
An hour later, Matt and Josh said their goodbyes—only after they’d eaten a proper lunch of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.
Call-me-Janet swept Matt into a hug, thanking him profusely for coming. She released him and pulled Josh into her arms.
Adam stood there in his pajamas, small and frail, still hiding his left wrist.
“May I hug you?” Matt asked him.
Adam nodded meekly.
Matt embraced him gently, whispered in his ear. “I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I’m going to get you readmitted to MCU by next fall.”
Adam just stood there, blinking.
Driving away from Ponca City, the Conoco refinery in his rearview mirror, Matt smiled at his memories of Adam.
A thought niggled at the edges of his brain, asking how much of his promise to Adam had to do with giving Adam something to hope for versus how much had been his own selfish wish to have Adam on campus by his side, his to kiss, his to ravish.
“Can I ask you a question?” he said to Josh.
“It’s about Adam, isn’t it?”
“What makes you think that?”
Josh laughed. “You’re not as subtle as you think. Touching his shoulder? Hugging him at the end? And I heard what you whispered to him.”
Matt was flustered. “I just think he got a raw deal. I’d do this for any student who attempted suicide.” He turned on his blinkers, passed a van that was tooling along.
Josh studied the road ahead. “You probably would take a card to any student going through a rough time. You’re thoughtful like that. You took a card to that registrar lady…”
“But?” Matt prompted. There was an obvious “but” coming.
“But, let’s be honest. Something changed once you met Adam. You’re attracted to him. There’s nothing wrong with that per se. He’s sweet and hot in his own way. Not my type, but that’s alright.”
Matt sighed. “Okay, sure, I like him. He’s kind of hot.”
“He’s also fragile. Now is not the time to be hitting on him, and it isn’t the time to be giving him false hope.”
“False hope?”
“I’m pretty sure MCU has never, ever in its 50+ year existence readmitted anyone—certainly not a fag. It isn’t going to happen.”
Matt clenched his jaw. There was a first time for everything.
“See that side road?” Josh asked, pointing. “Turn onto it.”
Matt obeyed, but he was watching the clock.
He had to get back in time for soccer practice.
He’d known it would be a tight turnaround for this trip, had known he’d be missing all his classes, plus chapel.
He had to be back by 2:00 for soccer, though.
He could not miss that, could not even be late. He was already on Coach’s shitlist.
“Let’s keep it between us that Adam’s mom knows we’re gay,” Josh said. “William would worry about that.”
Matt nodded.
Josh directed Matt to pull over by a stand of trees. Gravel crunched under the tires. They were out of sight of the highway.
“So, what was your question about Adam?” Josh asked.
“I’m just curious. Since you were his sponsor, did you guys shake hands? Did he know about the GM?”
Josh chuckled. “You’ve got it bad, dude!
Adam and I got together a couple of times.
The first time he was so nervous, we just talked.
The second time, I gave him the standard GM blowjob.
Same as William gave you. Adam knows there’s some kind of gay fraternity on campus.
Nothing more. I was going to recommend him for membership but never got the chance. ”
Josh wriggled out of his shorts, underwear, shoes, and socks. He sat there wearing only his t-shirt, giving Matt a “what-are-you-waiting-for?” look.
“Dude, I’ve got practice,” Matt said. “Another time.”
Josh imitated Matt’s tone. “Dude. Waist down. Naked now. You’ll make practice.”
Matt hesitated. “It feels wrong,” he said.
Josh shook his head. “Trust me on this. You need a handshake and so do I. That was an emotionally draining experience.”
Josh’s cock stood at attention, veins spiderwebbing it, the glans purpling. His clothes and shoes littered the little carpeted floor below his seat—all but his underwear. Those he kept within reach.
Matt acquiesced. Maybe he did need this.
Josh held onto Matt’s underwear, tossed the rest of his clothes behind the seat. He handed the underwear back to Matt, told him to sit on them. They would be his cum rag. “Start driving,” Josh said.
“Driving? In traffic?”
“The windows are tinted. Just drive.”
Matt pulled back onto the highway. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so wrong about a person. When he had interviewed for the GM, he’d chalked Josh up as a follower, a “loyal, friendly retriever.” This guy could lead a platoon of Marines straight into enemy fire.
“You like ass, right?” Josh asked.
Matt’s throat went dry. He nodded.
Josh half-turned in his seat, facing Matt. He leaned back against his door, propped his right leg up on the dashboard, his left leg on the console, giving Matt a nice view of his furry, chestnut crack.
“Stick your middle finger in your mouth,” Josh said. “Get it sloppy wet.”
Matt wet his finger while Josh used his hands to part the fur and expose his hole. The hole had a red tint to it. “Finger me while I jack,” Josh said. “Just one knuckle in. Be gentle.”
Matt drove with his left hand on the wheel, his right middle finger one knuckle deep inside Josh, gently probing the spongy hole. The coarse hair surrounding the hole brushed against the back of his hand. Josh’s balls rested in Matt’s palm.
Josh gave Matt a show. Stroking his cock. Grinding on Matt’s finger. Moaning. The radio played. The occasional car whizzed by, oblivious to the goings on in the Jeep.
Matt side-eyed Josh, watching the road as well. Josh’s balls retracted, pulling in tight. His ass clenched around Matt’s finger. His toes curled.
Just before Josh came, he grabbed his underwear, used them to catch the spurting cum.
Matt withdrew his finger reluctantly.
“Your turn now,” Josh said. He sat up, reached for Matt’s cock.
Josh stroked Matt’s cock slowly. The only sounds in the Jeep were Matt’s soft moans and the radio.
“Sniff your finger,” Josh ordered.
Matt held his finger under his nose, letting the musky odor infuse him. It was intoxicating.
Josh brought Matt to the edge several times but always eased off at the last moment.
“Don’t torture me,” Matt begged. “I need to cum.”
“I’m waiting for the right song,” Josh said.
A few minutes later, a bright techno beat began.
“This is it,” Josh said. “Now, taste your finger. I want the tang of my ass on your tongue when you cum.”
Matt stuck his middle finger in his mouth, sucked the flavor from it.
The song was “Another Night” by Real McCoy. Matt had never heard it before but would not forget it after that day. For the rest of his life, whenever he heard this song, he would be transported back to this moment in time. A time when he was young, reckless, intoxicated on ass.
A base beat joined the techno sound from the radio. Then a woman sang.
Josh stopped stroking. He hawked up spit into his hand, curled his fingers and thumb to form a circle. “Turn on the cruise control. Then fuck my hand,” he whispered.
Matt arched his back and bucked his hips to fuck Josh’s hand. He fucked in rhythm with the beat.
Now a gravelly, husky male voice started rapping. It was a bedroom voice that could coax girls to drop their panties, guys to do so too.
In Matt’s mind he was fucking Josh’s furry ass. His hands held Josh’s ankles—not the steering wheel. Matt pounded into Josh’s fist, feeling the orgasm building inside him.
Sexy guy continued rapping. His was a voice that bespoke permanent five o’clock shadow.
The orgasm, when it came, was electric. Matt convulsed, pumping out cum to the techno beat, the taste of Josh’s ass on his tongue, the musk of that ass in his nostrils. But it was Adam’s freckled face he saw.