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Robby tightened the hand around the steering wheel as his truck, which was rust-red and marred with dirt and dust, shook violently on the unpaved road. His sunglasses slid down with the vibrations.
The sweltering Nebraska sun hung low in the sky and beamed directly into his tanned face. Robby pursed his lips around a cigarette as he came to a crawling pace, before turning the wheel sharply to the right to park next to a line-up of other beat-up, dirty trucks.
The dive bar on the side of the road had a simple sign hanging from the side of a chipped exterior. The Drunken Bow, Robby mouthed around his cigarette, before he shook his head with a soft chuckle.
When he got out of his truck, the Nebraska heat hit him like a slap in the face. Dirt and dust tickled his nose. If he wasn’t smoking, he’d probably also be able to smell the corn and the cows that were in the surrounding fields.
Robby made his way to the bar’s entrance. His boots churned loudly on the gravel path. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, before pulling open a heavy wooden door. Loud country music greeted him, along with the scent of spilled alcohol and sweat.
The bar had only three people sitting at it as he made his way over. There were two men of an age similar to his own, leaning against the bar top, chatting amicably with the bartender; a pretty-ish woman a few years Robby’s junior. Three seats away from the men sat another, much younger man. Robby didn’t get a good look at him immediately, not until he slid into a stool one removed from his.
The bartender quickly came to take his order with a grin. “You’re not from around here, are you?” She asked as she reached for the whiskey on the shelf behind her.
“Just passing through,” Robby said in confirmation. He put his elbows on the bar, before quickly pulling them away again when he felt the sticky sensation seep into his skin.
“Figures. We don’t get much tourism down here. Where’r you headin’?” She asked, putting a simple glass of whiskey with ice in front of him, the grin still firmly plastered on her face.
“Not sure yet. Just driving around for now,” Robby answered with a quick nod of thanks. The woman opened her mouth to question him further, but was interrupted by the men on the other side of the bar. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she turned and made her way over.
Robby took the first sip, humming under his breath. The song blaring through the speakers switched to a softer country song, one with more guitar and less drums. Robby nodded in approval.
As he sipped his drink he let his eyes wander around. It did not take long for him to find the younger man sitting close to him. He let his eyes roam freely while the younger man was unaware he was being watched. The man couldn’t be older than twenty-five, which made him much too young for Robby to find interesting. And yet.
The young man had his dark red flannel partially unbuttoned with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Underneath he wore a white tank top, the edge of which was almost entirely translucent with transpiration. A small silver cross shone like a beacon between sweat-slick clavicles. The dark-wash jeans and work-man boots completed the outfit, but much more interesting to Robby was the man’s face.
The man’s side profile was sharp and pretty, with a nice strong nose, soft-looking pink lips, and a prettily curved jawline. The man’s skin was surprisingly pale for the sun-soaked environment. The curls framing the man’s head like a dark-blond halo reminded Robby a bit of how a younger Jack Abbot did his hair, though that was at least two decades ago.
When the man flicked his eyes to the side, perhaps feeling someone’s gaze locked on him, Robby had to swallow thickly. Even in the dim light of the dive bar, the young man’s eyes were piercing. Robby smiled ever so slightly while he felt himself sink deep into those watery blues.
They did not share a word, simply looked at each other. When Robby reached for his glass to take another sip of alright-whiskey, the young man’s eyes dropped to Robby’s throat to watch him swallow. It made Robby smile around the rim of his glass.
The song changed again, this time to something a little slower, a little more base-heavy. Robby felt heat curl up like smoke deep inside of him. Thinking of smoke, Robby was craving another one.
He kept eye contact with the young man as he slid out of his stool. He reached blindly for the wallet in his back pocket and slapped a few bills on the sticky counter top. With his half-empty glass in hand, Robby began to make his way to the exit. He let his eyes linger for a parting glance.
When he heard the young man’s boots hit the uneven wooden flooring behind him, Robby bit back a satisfied grin.
The outside air had not cooled down by much, but the sound of cicadas had grown much louder. Robby walked slowly through the gravel, all the way to the edge of a corn field adjacent to the bar’s parking. When the heavy wooden door opened and slammed shut behind him, Robby took another sip. When loud, gravely footsteps made their way towards him, Robby reached for his packet of smokes to light another one.
“Where’r you from, if you’re not from around here?” A soft, breathy voice asked from behind him.
Robby ducked his chin to light his cigarette in the warm summer breeze. He inhaled, and then exhaled a puff of gray smoke.
“So, you were listening in, huh?” Robby muttered, turning his head slightly to catch the younger man’s eye.
“Hard not to. Like Mabel said, we don’t get much tourism ‘round here. Not many new faces.” The man shrugged, unashamed.
Robby hummed, dragging another inhale of smoke to caress his tired lungs. “Pittsburgh. I’m on a forced sabbatical."
“What, you piss off the boss or somethin’?” The young man stepped forward with a curious tilt of his head. Robby turned his head to look back out across the corn field. Their shoulders brushed. When Robby held out his half-smoked cigarette, the young man took it without a word.
“More like killed him.”
The young man coughed loudly, choking on his inhale. The corners of Robby’s lips twitched up in amusement, though the reminder of Dr Adamson did not let him fully smile. “Just kidding, kid,” Robby said, patting the still-coughing young man. “My mentor did die and I guess I didn’t handle it very well. Was sent away to find the meaning of life or something.”
“Jesus. Sorry, man. How’d he die?” The young man asked after he finally calmed down. When Robby glanced at him briefly, he found the young man with red cheeks and watery eyes. Beautiful.
Robby didn’t know where the sudden ease to talk about his experience came from. When Jack or Dana pressed him to talk to someone, anyone, Robby would shoot them down. He didn’t need a shrink to talk about his fucking feelings. He never shared his experiences during Covid with anyone after it was all done and over with.
For some reason this stranger, this young man he never met and would never see again, made him want to open up.
“I’m a doctor. We both are, or were, I guess. He got sick during Covid. I tried to save him, got him hooked up to this machine that kept him alive. But then this young girl came in, and she needed the machine.”
The young man’s shoulders brushed his purposefully. When Robby glanced over, the man was holding his cigarette out for him. Robby sighed gratefully and took it from him. In exchange he held out his whiskey, the ice of which had almost entirely melted in the heat. The man took the glass with a small nod.
“Anyway,” Robby muttered around the edge of the cigarette, “I had to make the decision to take him off the machine. He died almost immediately. In the end I couldn’t even save the girl, either. She also fucking died.”
“That’s fucked up man, I’m sorry,” the young man said softly, bumping his shoulder against Robby’s again.
Robby let out a rough, shuddering breath. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He pretended they were there due to the smoke and dust in the air.
“Yeah. It really was.”
They smoked and drank in silence after that. Cicadas and the seeping sound of music from the bar behind them filled the air. Warm summer air ruffled the corn husks in the field in front of them. A truck pulled up at the bar. Laughter and chatter interrupted the peace. Neither Robby nor the young man next to him turned to look.
“Can you give me a ride home?” The young man asked eventually, after they shared a second cigarette and the glass had been emptied and put on the ground next to them.
Robby glanced at him for a moment, before nodding seriously. The young man smiled slightly.
Robby’s red truck creaked and groaned as they both hopped in. When Robby turned the key, the cd he’d been listening to immediately filled the air. From the corner of his eyes he could see the young man bob his head in approval. Robby swallowed his laughter.
“Take a right here. Just straight ahead. Left now. ‘kay, just more straight ahead. ‘nother left here. Jep. Stop here?”
Robby slowly let the car roll to a stop. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he glanced out of the windshield. Dennis had given direction to a small dirt road in between two fields of tall corn. They hadn’t passed a single car on the way. There most certainly wasn’t a house anywhere close by.
“Hey, kid, you live here?” Robby asked incredulously. When he heard the click of a seat-belt being undone he turned to look at his passenger. The young man was staring at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then what–”
Robby held up his hands in surrender as the young man suddenly, expertly moved himself into Robby’s space. Suddenly he had a lap full of warm, sturdy man. His mind spun and arousal began to simmer under his skin. Oh. This was happening.
Robby let his hands fall to the young man’s hips, gripping them tight before the young man could begin to grind down.
“Before we do anything else, what is your name, kid?”
“Dennis. Can I kiss you now?”
Robby spanked that firm, denim-covered ass as soon as the words registered. Dennis grinned at him with a wicked glint in his eyes. Robby grinned back, feeling younger than his years. When was the last time he had a filthy car hook-up? More than thirty years ago, probably.
“I’m Robby, nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, yeah, old man. Kiss?” Dennis leaned forward, his mouth hovering just above Robby’s.
Robby did not answer, simply tilted his head up to slot their lips perfectly together. They smiled into each other's mouths, before arousal overpowered them both, and their kiss quickly became heated. Tongues and teeth greeted each other like old friends.
“You taste good, kid,” Robby murmured against his lips.
Dennis moaned and shifted his hips against Robby’s, rubbing their groins together in the tight, confined space. It did not take long for Dennis to become impatient and desperate for more. Robby felt greedy hands groping at his sweat-soaked shirt in an attempt to pull it up and away. Robby shifted forward slightly to make it easier, dislodging their lips briefly to allow it to pass over his head.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, old man,” Dennis moaned, letting those greedy fingers bury themselves into Robby’s chest hair.
Robby grinned, pleased, before taking the initiative to pull off Dennis’ red flannel and sweaty white tank. It left them both naked from the waist up, with only their respective jewelry hanging from their necks.
“You Jewish?” Dennis asked, one finger tapping against the Magen David, making it press firmly into Robby’s skin like a brand.
“That a problem, kid?”
“Jeeze, ‘course not. Just curious,” Dennis scoffed, before he used warm hands to cup Robby’s cheeks to pull him into another heated kiss. Robby’s heart skipped a beat when one hand trailed back down to caress his chest. He let his own hands wander everywhere they could reach, always coming back to grope the young man’s ass.
“How’d’ya wanna do this?” Robby asked as he began to kiss down the side of Dennis’ neck, tasting salt on his tongue.
“Just like this. Just lemme do the work, yeah? Fuck, you’re so hot,” Dennis cursed, tilting his head up to give Robby more access to the sensitive skin of his neck and throat.
Somehow, while Robby was distracted by the taste, smell, and warmth of Dennis on his lap, the kid managed to undo the button and zipper of both of their jeans. When Robby sluggishly pulled away from the marked-up skin, he could see Dennis wiggle around in his lap, attempting to pull his jeans all the way down.
Robby greedily reached out to help, pulling starched denim from strong, pale legs. The gray boxers the young man was wearing had a wet spot right where his tip would be. Robby licked his lips. He wondered if he was even saltier there.
“Do you have–”
A condom and packet of lube were quickly thrust against his chest. When he looked up from his chest to Dennis’ face, he found the young man grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You little minx. Were you planning on getting fucked tonight?”
“A boy can dream,” Dennis said, shrugging casually.
Robby barked out a surprise laugh, before he leaned up to pull Dennis back into another kiss. While they made out, Robby ripped open the lube package and slicked up his fingers. When he reached around to press the first finger into the young man’s hole, he found the hole already slick and slightly softened.
Robby groaned loudly as he pressed the first finger inside, caressing soft, velvety heat. His cock throbbed desperately. Dennis moaned into his mouth when he soon after added a second and third finger.
“Fuck, you prepped for this?”
Dennis nodded against the side of Robby’s cheek, their lips having gotten detached during a particularly loud moan.
“Such a good boy,” Robby murmured as he let his fingers thrust in and out a few times, until he deemed the hole sufficiently prepared.
“Fuckin’– get in me, Robby. Need it, yeah?” Dennis pleaded, grinding down into Robby’s lap desperately. Robby nodded, pulling his fingers out with a slick squelch.
After that it was easy. Robby rolled down his underwear to rest under his balls, and quickly rolled on the watermelon-flavoured condom. He rolled his eyes at that when he first noticed. Dennis was practically buzzing with desperation, pleading softly between little pants for Robby to hurry the fuck up.
“Oh fuck!” Dennis groaned loudly when he slowly but surely let himself sink down on Robby’s cock. “Yer so fuckin’ big, Robby. God. Nghh– fillin’ me up so good.”
“You got a filthy mouth on you, kid,” Robby gritted out between clenched teeth. He had to fight to keep his ass planted on the seat, and not thrust up like a dog in heat before Dennis was ready for it.
“Yeah, I know. Fuck, that’s it. Exactly what I fuckin’ needed. Ah!”
When Dennis sank all the way down, he panted wetly against Robby’s shoulder. Robby wrapped his arms around the kid's middle, hugging him close. His cock twitched inside the tight, wet, heat surrounding it. The scent of sweat and smoke danced in the air. Robby wanted to stay like that for the rest of his life.
Dennis gathered his breath, pulled back from Robby’s shoulder, and began to properly ride him. His thighs trembled and his stomach quivered. If it was still bright out, Robby was sure he would’ve seen his cock moving under the thin skin.
As soon as Dennis found a comfortable rhythm, his eyes blissed out and his mouth slack, Robby knew he could move. He planted his feet firmly, gripped the edge of his seat, and snapped his hips up to meet Dennis half-way during his next descent.
“O–Oh fuck! Ah, ah, ah!”
“You moan like a whore, kid,” Robby groaned as sweat began to properly drip from his forehead.
“Hah! Y–Your who–whore– nghhh!” Dennis’ bouncing became more frantic as Robby pressed deeper and more pointedly inside of him. Each time he would brush against the kid’s prostate, a high pitch Ah! would escape red-bitten lips.
“Close! C–Close, ah!”
“M–Me too, kid. Come on, keep goi– ah fuck! Keep going,” Robby groaned. He leaned up to capture that gaping little mouth back into another filthy, tongue-and-teeth kiss. Dennis was fairly out of it, so all he could do was breathe and moan into Robby’s mouth.
It did not matter. It was the hottest thing Robby had ever experienced.
“C–Coming! Ah! F–Fuck!” Dennis shouted, bouncing frantically on top of Robby’s lap. Robby pulled away from his mouth and stopped thrusting back up. He grabbed hold of the kid’s hips and pushed him up and down firmly. Come spurted from Dennis’ twitching cock, soaking them both in white.
Robby came a few moments later. He forced Dennis to keep bouncing until the stimulation became too much for the kid. His hole clenched so tight it was almost painful. It was perfect. Robby’s cock twitched and swelled. His come filled the condom in one messy spurt. Dennis sagged tiredly against his chest.
“That was sooo fuckin’ nice,” Dennis murmured tiredly into Robby’s neck.
“Yeah. Yeah, it was,” Robby agreed.
-
And it was. It was the nicest, sexiest thing Robby had done in years, and had done in the years following. After their messy hook up, Robby took Dennis home, kissed him goodbye, and left Broken Bow the next morning.
Sometimes, during lonely nights, when he was desperate for something good to flood his mind, he thought back to that dirt road in Nebraska. He thought back to watery blue eyes and sweet pink lips. He thought back to hot summer air and sweat-slick skin.
He was never supposed to see the kid again, but the universe had always been cruel to Michael Robinavitch.
“Dennis Whitaker, MS4.”
Ahw, fuck.