“If the city don’t treat you right, you’re always welcome at my place, bud!”
He didn’t know how much those words would stick with him. The heat in Simon’s cheeks showed his hand, though; just the thought of being so close to Greg for the rest of his life excited him. He hid away from Greg’s sight, trying to will the blush away. What was the point of such juvenile dreaming now? He had a future! He had college, and big time business positions ahead of him! Yet here he was, still fantasizing about this stocky farmer’s kid, at the last party of his high school career.
“I’ll be fine,” he laughed. At least, he tried to pass it off as laughter. His voice cracked as he spoke. “But you really just want to stay on your dad’s farm for the rest of your life? You don’t wanna go somewhere new, even for a little bit?”
Greg pondered that for a moment. Simon peeked back at him as he did. There was always something so endearing about how Greg got lost in thought, to him. The subtle pout of his bottom lip, his thick finger twirling around the chestnut brown locks covering his forehead, the shine in his olive eyes as they flit up and down, skimming the contents of his mind like a book. He always took a second longer than most to come up with his answers in class, but those moments where Simon could see the wheels turning left him fixated.
“Guess I could go hiking in the mountains someday or somethin’,” he shrugged. “I don’t think I have anything I’d want to leave this place for, really!”
“Wish I could be satisfied with just staying home, but…” Simon paused. It might be the drink talking, but maybe there was one thing that could keep him grounded in this small town. He’s been looking at him the whole night. This might be the last chance he’d have to tell him the truth. And now that he looked at Greg, waiting anxiously for him to finish the thought, maybe all that’s left is to say it out loud. Simon opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. He adjusted his glasses, trying to cover his embarrassment. “... but all the big job opportunities for me are in the city, you know?”
That sad smile. His lips pushed up those chubby cheeks, but Greg’s eyes were screaming out his disappointment. Did anything else matter that night, after seeing the hurt Simon caused him, in that last moment together?
If the city don’t treat you right, you’re always welcome at my place, bud!
Always… Simon gave that a dry chuckle. He was pretty sure neither of them were expecting him to take up that offer ten years later…
The rundown car sputtered down the gravel road, a road he hadn’t seen for a decade now, and certainly never drove down himself. He certainly didn’t think he’d have to drive down a gravel road once he got his first placement. The thought didn’t cross his mind after the second, or the third, or the fourth, or the fifth… Being let go just a day shy of three months at his sixth big office gig, though, that broke Simon. Now all he really had left to his name was this dirt-cheap ride and a few boxes worth of clothes and trinkets. He was pretty sure his student loan cancelled all that out, but at least he chipped away at it for the last few years. How much was left of it, he pondered… At least another $20,000, right?
That was the wildest part of that night’s conversation, though: if everything went smoothly, he wouldn’t have to worry about a cent of that! Greg’s message came in about a week ago, a complete surprise to Simon. All he wanted to do at the time was catch up with his old high school buddy, that awkward nerd that wouldn’t shut up about making it big in the big city. Simon had no clue what possessed him to vent about his troubles, and he had even less clue what possessed Greg after that.
How much of that student debt do you have left?
Maybe he was just curious what student debt really looked like, since he never had to deal with it himself.
20k, give or take a bit. why?
Oh, that doesn’t sound too bad! I bet I could pay that for you!
What the fuck.
so that’s 20,000 dollars
twenty THOUSAND
Yeah, I know that! I passed math, lol! :P
ok, but you can’t actually mean that, right? who would just pay off someone’s student debt like that???
Well I mean, I wouldn’t do it for ‘free,’ lol! I could pay that off for you in exchange for maybe a year’s worth of work on the farm, easy!
Then we’d get more time to catch up and everything! :D
Simon stared at the screen. Words escaped him. How was this man still throwing him off guard, ten years later? It was all way too good to be true, being able to spend all that time next to the one who got away, and being able to clear that crippling debt, all for some physical labor for a year? Hell, he could finally put some muscle on his frame with this deal, now that he thought about it! No need for the gym! He didn’t even have to abandon his chance to be a big shot; just one year in that dingy, dusty town, and he’d be back on track!
He was about to type some kind of response, when he pondered the life ahead of him. Sleeping next to that beefy bod, having that man all to himself to do whatever they wanted in the late hours of the night… He never saw Greg after high school, so the fantasies started feeling weird when Simon realized all he could imagine was that teenaged hick. Still, he couldn’t help but think that it might be a better way to live than the same song and dance of being ditched, rejected, and ghosted by every company that hired him.
No, he wasn’t giving up. He just needed a break… That’s all.
i need a new place to sleep anyway; my rent’s up this month
Of course, the thoughts of how the year would pan out teased his brain the whole drive down. He still had no idea how the years had changed Greg. They barely changed him, or he certainly didn’t feel as if they did. He gained a bit of a gut, and he had an inkling of facial hair grow out finally, even if he always had to shave it down just to look presentable to employers, but his face still looked too young, his arms and legs were still so stringy, and his composure might have actually become paler since high school. Just to top it off, he could see his auburn hair thinning, and his hairline slowly retreating over the years. At least that helped him look a bit more mature…
He would see Greg soon enough, though, as he approached the familiar plots of land flooded with wheat and corn. Or, were some of those barley? He never could tell the difference; it wasn’t his field of study, or his field to farm, either. Simon had visited Greg’s childhood home at least a couple times, so he thought he’d recognize it pretty easily when he saw it. He recognized a few other houses on the way, and they hadn’t changed one bit from his memory, save for maybe a new coat of paint or two. Sure enough, the rust orange bricks and birch wood of Greg’s farm house popped into view, and Simon knew he’d arrived.
He had only just left his car to hear a familiar voice, just a touch deeper than he remembered:
“Wow, you made it all the way here in this poor thing?”
Simon looked up, and his heart jumped into his throat. He knew exactly who stood before him, but holy shit! Greg always had a bit of extra fat on him, covering up a touch of muscle he had from working on the weekends, but the last decade gave him a good helping of both. His thick arms looked even thicker with a coat of hair so voluminous it might be mistaken for fur, and there was plenty more popping out from his half-unbuttoned flannel shirt. Speaking of which, he wasn’t sure if that shirt could button any higher, with the size of the man’s chest! His face wasn’t absent of hair, but he definitely seemed to keep the beard he grew under control, only grown out about a quarter-inch or half-inch in length. His mop of wavy chestnut hair seemed the same as ever, though, which added a boyish charm to this rugged man in front of him. And those olive eyes still shone like the last time they had spoken…
Simon had to use all the will he had to keep the heat in his loins under control. Fuck, what did he just say? What was he talking about? How long ago did he say it? How long was he ogling this man? Simon was awash with shame and worry, and stuttered out a greeting: “H-hey Greg! Nice t- to um, see you again!”
“Hah, you’re just as jumpy as ever, bud!” Greg gave his shoulder a pat. The force of his hand on Simon’s lanky frame threatened to buckle him over. “Come on, let’s get your stuff inside, already!”
“Oh yeah, of course!” Simon reached into the car and started pulling out the ragged boxes with his belongings. He was fully prepared to take it one box at a time, but he was maybe halfway up to the house when he saw Greg passing him with every other box stacked up neatly in his arms. “Wait, is that everything? That took me like an hour to get into my car from my apartment!”
Greg just chuckled. “Yeah, hiking a bunch of these down a flight of stairs would be pretty rough, huh?” He took the elevator, but Simon’s ego was already getting a bit too bruised for his comfort, so he kept that to himself. “Hey, you could just hop into my arms, and I can carry you and your stuff in at the same time!”
Simon was so thankful for the box in his hands covering his crotch. “No, nono, that’s fine, I got this..! I’ll just get this… one box… into the house, and we can get right to the meat of today’s work, right?”
Greg raised an eyebrow. “Well I mean, I’ve done most of what needs to get done on the fields today, but there’s a few things we can fix up before we get to bed.” He scanned over Simon’s attire, pouting ever so slightly. “You might wanna take off that shirt, though.”
“What!?” Greg almost jumped. He hadn’t heard Simon shout quite like that before.
“That button-up’s too tight on you to do any real lifting; it’ll rip on you for sure. Plus, you don’t wanna get a nice shirt like that all sweaty, do you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Simon sighed. “I’ve got a t-shirt in one of these boxes I can throw on in just a second, then…”
Simon was acutely aware of how difficult just washing the dishes was for him at this point. At least he had an excuse for that much; all the lifting and raking and other strenuous physical work had left every bone in his body aching. He could barely hold a plate without his hand quaking. Somehow, the excuse meant nothing to his shame.
“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Greg’s hand placed itself gingerly on Simon’s shoulder. “It was pretty rough when I started taking up this work day in and day out, but give it time, and you should grow in the muscle you need to tackle it all no problem!”
Somehow, the thought of having that muscle was now very abstract to Simon. “Didn’t you already have plenty of muscle back then, though? I’ve got nothing…”
“Oh, I was more fluff than anything in high school,” he giggled. Greg’s chest was now pressed against Simon’s back, and the twink’s hands had a whole new reason to be shaking. “Takes a lot of protein and vitamins to get where I am now, but the good news is you’re on the fast track for that! That stew was one of my mom’s recipes, chock full of veggies straight from my own personal garden out back - you know, the one we were tending around 4 today - and I got the beef from ol’ Brandt’s place - can you believe he’s still in business? Still has the best meat in town, too!”
“Maybe not the best meat…” Simon’s eyes went wide when he realized he spoke that out loud. “I-I mean, I always liked that stuff from… From that old German guy…”
“Yeah, that’s Brandt! The guy I’m talkin’ about!” Greg was laughing up a storm. Simon giggled nervously along. “Well your family always got their meat straight from the grocery store, right? The stuff from there was alright, but it takes a real cook to work that meat and make something special out of it, but Brandt! Oh, you should see the sausages that man puts together!” Simon was desperate for Greg to stop talking about meat at this point.
“You’ve really got it bad for Brandt, huh?” Why was that how he chose to turn this around!?
“Hah, no, I’m not that into old guys like him!” Simon could swear Greg was now pressed even closer to his slender frame. “But you remember his daughter? The girl who used to run the cashier; she went off to college before our first year of high school, but she came back to town a while back, and what a bombshell!” He gave Simon a noogie as he spoke. “She had tits the size of your head, I swear! I tried to keep my eyes off them, but she didn’t mind me looking when we spent the night here!”
Ah, so he really was into women this whole time. Simon’s heart sank, until he thought of something. “I don’t… remember the butcher having a daughter?”
“Oh yeah, she had a different name back then; she goes by Violet now! Honestly forget her old name, but it’s all the better; she doesn’t like much having people call her whatever it was.” That’s when Simon felt something rubbing against his ass.
“H-hey, are you…”
“Ha, sorry, got a little lost thinking about Vi, I guess!” Greg stepped back from Simon and adjusted his pants. “I got around with a few of the other girls in town too, but she was just awesome!” Simon had put away his last clean dish, and stepped back from the sink, only to find Greg staring him dead in the face. “‘Course, I’m sure you found a few good ones in the city too, right?”
Simon’s eyes were wide, but he looked away sheepishly. “I uhh… Don’t really know, actually. I kinda focused on just getting a good job more than anything…” They made their way upstairs to Greg’s bedroom. “I just didn’t really click with anyone in college or anywhere else, really…”
Greg stared at him intently. “Nothing? Just you and your hand, this whole time? Well, guess that’s something we can fix while you’re in town, huh?”
There was some special kind of cruelty to those words, Simon felt, given who was saying them. “I mean, I guess if I bulk up enough, I’m sure someone might look my way eventually, sure, but I… Well, I don’t think many people in this town liked me all that much either, and now that I’m back, I wouldn’t expect anyone to just change their mind after seeing everything I…” Simon turned to Greg, shirtless, and with his pants down to his ankles already. His boxers were either down with his pants, or weren’t there to begin with, because Greg’s cock was out and free, still half-hard from earlier. Or was it only hardening now? Simon couldn’t help but stare and admire the girth of it, before his voice came back to him. “What are you doing…!?”
Greg gave him a wily smirk. “Fixing it? I didn’t really think you wanted to go out and find a pretty girl, after all~!”
Simon’s face was flushed instantly, as the realization dawned on him. “W-wait, hold on,” he sputtered, “You- you’re joking with me, right? I-i thought-- What about what you said about Violet and…!?”
A kick to the side was all it took to remove Greg’s pants from his ankles, and he slid under the covers, holding them open for Simon. “It’s called being bisexual, bud! Besides, if I’m being honest with you, I remember you gave me a whole lot of looks back in the day, and now that you’re here, I thought we might pick up where we left off~!”
His aching body should have been enough, but he still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t dreaming for a moment. “W-well, I… I mean I wasn’t… I’m not saying you’re not handsome, but… Well I mean of course I’m not, but…!” He struggled to collect himself. “It-it’s not you, I swear..! What I mean is, this isn’t your fault, or…! It’s a ‘me’ thing!”
Simon caught a glimpse of that thinking pout that Greg always had, if only to watch it turn to annoyance. “Yeah, I’m picking up on that…” He shuffled his body around, but kept the covers open to his pal. “Well, it’s fine if you’re not looking for that right now or anything, but you still oughtta get in bed; we’ll be getting up just before dawn tomorrow, after all!”
“I-I can sleep on the couch, it’s fine, I’m sorry..!” He was still stammering even now, hiding away the tent in his pants. “I wouldn’t want to impose on you or anything in your own home…”
“Thought the idea was we’d be sharing this home for a year or so?” Greg was grinning. “I’m not putting you on the couch, least of all on your first night.”
It wasn’t clear how long they bickered about it, but what Simon knew is that Greg eventually caved, and took the couch himself.
“No, hold on, you gotta lift with your legs; that’s gonna kill your back!”
Try as he might, he was pretty sure his legs wouldn’t handle that weight either. Simon was doing all he could to lift the tools out of the way. Greg was behind him now, pouting as he watched. This was the fifth task today he had to supervise Simon perform, worried the poor guy would snap in half if he was left alone. Seeing his methods, Greg might have had a point.
“I need to get it off the ground first…!” Simon huffed. That was when Greg’s hand grabbed the handle of the toolbox, guiding it back to the ground.
“Here, keep your back straight, and squat down.” Greg put one hand on the small of Simon’s back, and the other over his chest, correcting his posture as he brought the lanky man down. They could both feel his heart pounding now, and that only made it pound harder. “Easy, now, just push up with your thighs and your ass when you’re getting up…!” Greg’s hand firmed against Simon’s chest, as the weight did its best to pull him back down. His grip was shaky as he stood. “There, you can set them down over there, but squat down like you did when you lifted them up, alright?”
His stance was awkward, but he did everything he could to keep his back straight on his own. It seemed for a moment as if he could hold his own, though Greg still eyed him as he waddled to the spot. His knees shook as he descended, slowly bringing the toolbox to the ground. It was only a few inches from the ground when his back bent over. Greg smiled at first; it wasn’t perfect, but it was a good start for a guy with no upper or lower body strength.
Then Simon buckled over the toolbox, collapsed onto his knees and shaking. Faintly, his choking and sobbing could be heard. Greg jogged over, placing his hand on Simon’s back. “Hey, hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I-- I can’t… I can’t fucking do it..! I just keep fucking everything up like this…!” He was sniffling between words.
“What? No, you did fine, it’s alright! It’s just a toolbox, it’ll be alright!”
“It’s just a toolbox, and I couldn’t even get that right..!” The cracks in his voice were knives to Greg’s heartstrings. “I just keep fucking everything I do up! I couldn’t hold down a job, I couldn’t get a boyfriend, I can’t even lift a toolbox without breaking down crying..! Am I good at anything!?”
Simon couldn’t see the thoughtful pout Greg took, but he could feel the hands massaging his shoulders. “Alright, Simon, I get it now. I know what’s wrong here.”
“Yeah, you see? I’m not worth it--”
“You need to relax, big time.”
He sniffled, and turned to Greg. “Are you serious right now?”
“‘Course I am.” The frown Simon wore did nothing to deter Greg. “I never picked up on it when we were kids, but you’ve got a serious anxiety problem. I bet you were doing just fine at all those jobs of yours, and they couldn’t see that, or they couldn’t see the rest of what you had to offer.” Simon couldn’t help but admit to the comfort that came with Greg’s thumb rubbing against his trapezius. “Now you’ve got yourself convinced no one like you or they just ‘tolerate’ you, when you got plenty that people love you for!”
Yeah, well…” He choked back the rest of his tears. “Not like we’ve got a proper therapist in town or anything to help with that…”
“Well, we just need to chip away at it, bit by bit, and make sure you can love yourself for what you got!” Simon sighed, and turned away. Greg pouted.
“Then again, I got a quick fix for this kinda thing, too…”
Simon squinted at Greg. “What do you mean a quick fix?”
“Well, before we get into that, I gotta tell ya,” Greg warned, “this fix really changes a guy. You might not find yourself wanting - or really, even able - to get back to the city if we pull out that bad boy. I’m not pulling out that bad boy unless that’s something you’d be cool with.”
Simon pondered that cryptic offer. He thought of all the jobs he couldn’t pin down, all the failures he dealt with in the city. He wanted to get back on his feet, but now… Perhaps it was just because he was vulnerable in this moment. Then he thought of the night before, and how his anxiety fucked that up for him. How it fucked them up ten years ago, when he couldn’t even come out to him.
Simon gazed into Greg’s olive eyes. “How does it work?”
Greg beamed. He stood up Simon and started pulling off the lanky man’s shirt. “First of all, you’re gonna have to lose the clothes for this!”
He was thrown off guard again, but this time, Simon let Greg take the lead. Whatever he had planned, he was going to see it through. “Okay, but can I get my pants myself?”
Greg did what he could to hold back his giddy laughter. He ran off to grab something, and returned to bring Simon out to a hill out near the back of his property. Having to walk that far completely naked save for his glasses was unnerving, especially since he had a clear hard-on before even leaving the barn. The hill was a tame, well-kept patch, the grass only a few inches long. The only shade came from the passing clouds.
“Is… this it?” Simon kept looking around for some kind of surprise or something special.
“It sure is~!” Greg patted Simon’s naked back. “Every so often, I’ve found myself getting a fair bit anxious for one reason or another, or just down in the dumps, and what I do to tackle that is sit out here on the hill and just watch the clouds go by for an hour or two!”
Simon glared at Greg. “You’re fucking with me. Is that seriously what you brought me out here for? Why did I even take off my clothes!?”
Greg raised a finger. “That’s what I do! What I’m gonna have you do is a touch different: you have to wear this.” He revealed from behind his back a metal contraption…
No, Simon couldn’t entertain this farce. “That’s a cooking pot. A really shoddy one, at that.”
“You can call it what you want, but if you want this quick fix, what you’re gonna do is put this on your head and lie on the grass.” His voice was stern as he spoke. Were it not for the absurdity of the situation, Simon may have meekly followed along.
“And how long are you expecting me to do that for!?”
At this point, Greg flipped the pot onto Simon’s head, and gently shoved him onto his ass. “You aren’t gonna worry about how long you’re out here for; you don’t get up from this spot until I come back to get you!” With that, Greg walked away. Simon wanted to get back on his feet and protest, he wanted to chew out this stupid idea for all it was worth.
Instead, he recalled why he agreed in the first place and decided, even if all it did was entertain this stud, he would follow along and see where it takes him. If nothing else, it let him rest his muscles a little more; he was still sore from the day before. He adjusted his body until his head rested neatly on the grass, or at least it would, had the pot not separated the two. It was a bit uncomfortable, but it blocked out the sun from his eyes, so there was some use to it.
He watched the clouds passing by, forming complex shapes and thinking of all the things he could see them forming. He chided himself over immediately seeing a penis in one of the clouds, especially when all it ended up doing was reminding him of what he missed out on last night. Somehow, even sitting here and watching the clouds pass managed to remind him of his failures. He had been here for maybe a few good minutes, and was already worried this would somehow do more harm than good. It didn’t help that the pot felt warmer against the back and top of his head as time went on.
He watched the clouds passing by, forming shapes in them, and thinking of how close they might match the real thing. There was a dragon here, a horse there, and one of them kind of looked like a buff man flexing. He was reminded of Greg and his physique. Oh yeah, that was waiting for him back at the farm, right? Simon almost forgot how insistent Greg was to have him just lie here and wait for him to come back. He didn’t budge from his spot. He was honestly getting comfortable with it now. Then again, the pot against his head felt pretty hot now, didn’t it?
He watched the clouds passing by, forming pretty basic shapes. Circles, most of them. Puffy circles. Like balls, or nipples. Or Greg’s eyes. That reminded him that he had been here a while but he completely lost track of time. Should he just go back? No, Greg said he’d come back for him. Plus, the grass was really comfy now. The pot was pretty comfy too, if not really hot.
He watched the sky. Not even the clouds. Just the sky. He lost focus on the little things, and honestly the big things too. There was saliva pooling on the sides of his lips, ajar as his jaw slacked. Why was he here again? Where was here? And what was this hot thing on his head? Guess it didn’t really matter.
“Hey buddy, how’re you doing over there?”
He got up to see where the voice came from, but his movement was sluggish. He blinked slowly, looking up to see a hefty man with brown hair and beard. He looked familiar, sort of. “Hi…”
“Hey,” he cooed. “You’ve been out here a while, pal; you doing okay?”
He just shrugged in response. His jaw was still slack, as the drool trailed down to his chin.
“Jeez, you were out here a while, huh?” The man pulled off the thing on his head. “Aw jeez, look at this, have you had this on your head this whole time? No wonder you’re so out of it: you must’ve cooked your brains through with this here pot!”
“Cooked ‘em…? What’s that mean…?”
“First, do you remember anything? Like who I am, or who you are?”
He thought for a moment. At least, he tried. Nothing came to mind. He shook his head to respond.
“That’s what I thought, bud.” The man patted his shoulder. “You see, this here pot was sitting on your head while you sat in the grass over there, and it got all hot from the sun. Because of that, it started cooking whatever was inside it, and you had your whole head in this thing! Now you’ve gone and lost most of your brainpower, ‘cause your brain got all the moisture cooked out of it and shrunk down.”
Try as he might, he really couldn’t understand any of what the man was telling him. “Are you uh… Are you saying I’m dumb or something?”
He laughed, “Yeah, basically! ‘Course, you weren’t all that bright sitting in the sun with a pot on your head, now, were you?” The man pouted a bit, stirring up a memory. “Well, first of all, you forgot your name, right? Your name’s Si; it’s short for Simon.”
Si let the words sink in. Si is short for… Somehow, Si just stuck better than the full name. “Yeah… Si… But wait, what’s your name?”
The man laughed. “Ah, it’s some big, complicated name you’re not gonna be able to remember now. You can just call me ‘Sir!’ It’s a lot easier to remember, right?”
Si didn’t bother thinking about it. That seemed pretty easy to accept. ‘Sir’ stuck in his head pretty easily, after all. He nodded, “Sir… That’s real easy…”
That’s when Sir had a wily grin stretch across his face. He picked up Si and slipped a hand between his asscheeks, fiddling with the hole between them. “You know what’s super easy, though? You’re super easy, you little flirt~! You’re really just gonna lie out here on the grass completely naked?”
Si just gasped in response. Whatever Sir was doing, it felt good, and he wanted more. He wiggled his hips, getting more from the exploring fingers. “Haha, I don’t even know why I was out here…”
“I can tell you later, if you want…” Sir unzipped his pants clumsily, exposing his rod to Si. “Right now, how about you and I have some long-overdue fun?”
At first, he didn’t know what that meant, but as Sir slipped inside of Si’s open and ready hole, there was an itch in the back of his mind. A realization, about two things. The first was that he was definitely a much different person than when he woke up today. He knew that the crawling of his thoughts was slow, and he was always so much faster than this. He knew there was a lot he had forgotten, and there were little things here and there he wasn’t remembering. He might recall them later, but not all of them, and that was fine.
Because the second thing he realized was earlier today, he made a decision that was smarter than anything else he had done for the past ten years.