Aaron & Slade

I watch Slade staring blankly out the window. We've been sitting in my truck in complete silence for a couple of minutes, and it concerns me to see him so distracted and unaware.

I wish I knew what was going on in his head. Is he thinking about his parents? Is he thinking about his outburst? His assertion that I should hate him still upsets me. He's not to blame for last night, I am. I didn't try hard enough to talk him out of telling his parents. He's hurting because of me.

Reaching for his hand causes him to jump. Confusion spreads across his face as he looks around. "We're still here?"

Clearing my throat to loosen my nerves, I say, "Yeah, 'cause I wanted to talk to you first."

Shaking his head, he says, "Aar, I don't want to talk about last night."

"I want to talk about us, Jones," I tell him.

Slade grips my hand tight. "Baby, we're fine. Just drop it."

"I can't do that. Last night, you blew up at me for saying, 'I'm sorry'. What if I say or do something else to upset you?"

He closes his eyes. "That was one time. It won't happen again. We're good, okay?"

"The way you reacted last night was scary. Jones, I need to know you're okay."

With nervous laughter, Slade rolls his eyes. I reach out, grasp his thigh, and give it a firm squeeze. His laughter subsides replaced by a melancholy smile, and he asks, "Why're you pushing this so hard?"

"I won't stand by and watch you twist in the wind. I love you too much to let that happen. If it means hounding you until you talk to me. I'm gonna do it," I say worriedly. "Please?"

Slade clears his throat, exhaling a heavy sigh; he chews on his bottom lip as it quivers. He holds my hand tighter. I entwine our fingers. A look of resolve sets across his face, and shifts to face me. "Let's talk, but after this, no more, 'kay?"

Nodding, I reply, "You have my word."

"I've been thinking about how my parents will never accept me or us, and they're gonna kick me out," Slade says quietly.

My brows knit together. "He said they weren't kicking you out."

Skepticism sets in his eyes. "Mama may not want me gone but Pa does. I don't know what I'm gonna do if he talks her into it."

His sad eyes pierce deep into my soul. Sliding closer to him, I run my free hand across Slade's cheek to his neck. His head falls to my shoulder. I press several light kiss to his ear. "Don't think that way."

"I can't help it. Everything's broken 'cause of me," he whispers.

"It's my fault, not yours," I state somberly.

His head snaps up. "No, it's not."

I reply, "Yeah, it is."

Slade cups my cheeks, and says emphatically, "Aar, it's not your fault."

I brush my shaggy, blond locks from my eyes, and focus on him. "If we'd just stayed friends, if we hadn't fallen in love, and if we hadn't gone to the cabin, you wouldn't have decided to tell your parents. So, yeah, all of this

is my fault

."

His nose sweeps across mine, and he kisses me gently. "Aaron, you're so smart, but that has to be the

stupidest

thing I've

ever

heard you say. Baby, I'm glad we didn't stay friends. I don't regret falling in love. And for as long as I live, I will never, ever regret going to the cabin with you... never."

"Yeah, but I didn't try hard enough to convince you to lie. If we did, things would be different." Slade shrugs bobbing his head from side to side. Confused by the gesture, I ask, "Care to elaborate?"

"I didn't listen to you when you tried to be the voice of reason. I never thought about the consequences. I was thinking with my heart instead of my head. I was too far gone for you to talk sense into me," he continues; his face masked in seriousness. "I wronged you by forcing you into coming out."

"No, you didn't...," I begin, but Slade cuts me off.

"Aar, you said last night I didn't, but we both know I did. I threatened to breakup with you. It was emotional blackmail. I knew it was wrong, but I said it anyway. Having to deal with all of my crazy while you were thinking about your dad was unfair. You should've told him when you were ready. I can't apologize enough to you for that." Slade leans in looking me deep in the eyes; he cups my face in his hands. His voice cracks when he says, "Baby, can you ever forgive me?"

I cover his hands, holding on tight. "There's nothing to forgive. Jones, I'd made the decision to tell him right before you said you'd breakup with me."

Dejection flashes in his eyes, he wipes his tears away. "You still wouldn't have come out last night if I hadn't suggested it." He shakes his head slightly. "When I think back to the way Pa looked at you it sends a chill down my spine. I would've killed him with my bare hands if he'd hurt you."

Chuckling quietly, I lean my forehead against his. "I would've done the same thing."

We hold each other, whispering back and forth, when Slade makes a surprising announcement. "I'm jealous of you," he says gently.

"You're jealous of me?" I ask dumbfounded.

"Your family told you they still love you, mine refuse to talk to me. I've tried calling everyone but no one answers," he says pained. "I need Mama more than I've ever had, and she couldn't care less."

"Slade...," I start but I have no idea what to say.

"I'm done talkin'," he says definitively.

.

"Jones, I'm sorry."

"I know you are, Aar. I'm sorry, too." We sit in silence while Slade plays with our hands. Calmly, he says, "Let's go. We've killed enough time. Besides, you have some serious ass-kissing to do for making me talk about my feelings."

I laugh hard. He looks confused, which only makes me laugh harder. Through gasping breaths, I tell him, "Jones, the ass-kissing is a given. Anything else you want me to do?"

Slade joins in, when he realizes what he'd said. He slides closer to me and asks, "Anything?"

I gulp feeling his hand stroke my inner thigh and whisper, "Yup, just name it."

He kisses my neck, nibbles my earlobe, and states breathlessly, "I want you, baby."

I choke out a gasp, and sputter, "What?"

He moans softly, grasps my cock, and licks my ear. "You heard me. I want you to take me... right now... to Charlie's." He slides back to his side as his laughter reverberates through the truck.

I sneer openly at him while adjusting myself. "That's not funny, Jones."

"Yeah, it is. You should've seen your face. It was priceless."

Sarcastically, I say, "You think you're so freaking hilarious, don't you?"

"Oh, I know I am," Slade oozes. When he sees my not too pleased face, he pinches my cheek. "Oh, don't be such a Gloomy Gus. It was a joke."

"I'm gonna get you back. Just you wait," I growl.

"Oh, I'm so scared," he says shaking his hands in mock terror.

I smile and wink overtly at him, scanning him lustfully from head to toe. "And you should be."

His hands move down his chest and stomach. "You've gotta work hard to get with this."

With my arrogance proudly on display, I scoff, "Nah, you'll give it to me."

"What makes you think I'll just give it to you?" Slade counters.

"Because you want me just as much as I want you," I state boldly.

"Eh, maybe, but your odds are better, if we go to Charlie's," he says, licking and kissing my neck.

"You're such a tease. If I knew all it took to get you into bed was to feed you, I would've done it a long time ago," I say, grinning obnoxiously, and he rolls his eyes. "So, Charlie's, really?"

Slade nods. "Yeah, they're not busy on Sundays. We can be in and out in no time."

I clutch my stomach. "Remember what happened the last time we ate there? I think I went through a whole bottle of the pink stuff."

"That only happened once. C'mon. I'm in the mood for the slaw bomb burger," Slade whines jokingly.

His giddiness is catchy, and I cave. "Fine, lunch is on me. I'll even spring for extra fries and onion rings."

Slade's eyes widen in mock surprise. "Wait, extra fries

and

onion rings? Does this mean I have to put out now?"

"I think it does," I say laughing.

"Okay," Slade sighs before smiling mischievously.

<><><><><><>

While parked in front of Charlie's, I manage to secure a room from a motel that allows 18 year olds to reserve rooms. "We're all set but check-in's not for a couple hours."

"Good. Let's get in there and get our grub on," he says hopping out the truck.

Walking inside, the place is virtually empty. We grab a booth in the back sitting across from each other. Our server introduces herself as "Debbie". She takes our drink order and disappears.

Slade grins and he says, "I should get extra garlic on my burger."

I lean forward and whisper, "If you want my lips anywhere near yours, nix the extra garlic, but then again that's entirely up to you."

He laughs. "You're such a buzzkill."

Debbie returns with our drinks. "Okay, boys, what're you having?"

I point to Slade. He recites his order. "I'll have the slaw bomb burger with fries: medium, 86 the cheese, with everything, jalapenos, and extra tomatoes, mayo on the side, onion rings, and another order of fries."

Debbie turns to me. "And what about you, honey?"

Giving her a half-smile, I shake my head. "Nothing for me thanks." After she leaves, I turn to him, "It's still weird to me how you'll eat cheese on everything else but your burger."

He shrugs. "I can't help it. It's been that way since I was a kid. Cheese ruins it."

"It's the best part of the burger, you weirdo," I tease.

He responds with a relaxed tone, "I like what like. And, baby, you should happy you're on the list of things I like."

Pouting, I ask, "Just like?"

Slade moves his head side to side. "It could be more than like, but you're starting to bug me."

With a wide smile, I reply, "I like you, too."

A couple arrives sitting at the booth across from us. Out of the whole restaurant, why sit there? We shake our heads and change the conversation to the upcoming NFL season. We get into our usual debate over the teams who will make the playoffs, and who deserves to win the Superbowl.

Debbie appears with his food. He smiles when she places the plates in front of him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, honey. Let me know if y'all need something else," Debbie says and walks away.

"That was super quick. Are you sure you wanna chance eating that?" I ask, looking at the greasy mess.

"Um, yeah," he answers, stacking onion rings on top of his burger. He opens the ketchup, places a large pool on the side of the plate, and dips multiple fries before cramming them in his mouth. I sneak a few for myself. We have idle chitchat as he eats. It's not long before he takes his last bite, downs his drink, and follows it up with a deep, loud belch. I can't help laughing. The couple beside us looks over in disgust.

He rubs his belly and smacks his lips. "Damn! That was freaking good."

"You have absolutely no manners, Jones," I tell him, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Whatever. I'm going to the john," Slade says. He quietly calls out over my shoulder. "Debbie, we'll take the check."

"Sure thing," Debbie says. She jots something down and places the check on the table. "Pay up front with the cashier. Thank you for coming to Charlie's; we hope to see you again."

"Thanks," he says standing and heads to the bathroom.

After paying the check, I walk in the bathroom where Slade's washing his hands. "Are you ready?" He asks looking at me in the mirror.

I nod walking to the urinal. "Just gotta hit the head first."

He groans loudly, stands behind me, and wraps his arms around me. "I'm about to go into a food coma. Thanks for lunch, baby. I hardly touched breakfast."

Looking awkwardly towards the door, I say, "I noticed. You should step back before someone walks in."

I grunt when he tweaks my nipples. "Then hurry up so we can get the hell outta here."

Peeing quickly, I wash my hands and announce, "Done. I'm right behind ya."

"Not yet, but you will be," Slade throws over his shoulder walking out the bathroom.

<><><><><><>

We sing along badly to Thomas Rhett blaring through the speakers. Out of nowhere, Slade exclaims, "Shit! I left my backpack."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I can't believe this," he says with a loud, exasperated groan.

Reaching out, I run my hand through his hair. "Jones, it's not that big a deal. We can buy what we need."

"It's a waste of money buying stuff we already have."

"At least, we know we'll use it," I say encouragingly, and he just shakes his head.

Ten minutes later, I pull into a packed parking lot of the store closest to the motel. We walk in, and make a beeline to the health aisle. He places everything in our basket.

"We should grab other things while we're here," I say, looking towards the food section.

"Okay," he answers.

As we're walking, Slade's sexual teasing is overt and unexpected. Normally, he wouldn't act this way, but it's as though he doesn't care. I push him into an empty aisle. "What's up with you?"

He looks innocently up at me. "Why?"

"Jones, we still need to be careful. So can you dial it back just a little?"

He sighs and whispers, "I'll stop."

"Don't stop. Just don't be so obvious about it," I say, heaving a hefty swat to his ass and walking away.

In the refrigerator section, I grab a can of whipped cream, and he arches an eyebrow. "I like the direction you're going."

I graze my hand over his when I know no one is looking. "Strawberries or peaches."

"Peaches. We did strawberries last time," he replies huskily. I reflect back on that night fondly and smile.

We select some snacks and drinks. As we're walking to the front, he grabs my hand; pulls me into an isolated corner hidden by a clothes rack, and kisses me. The basket slips from my hand with a thud. My arms wrap tight around his waist with his around my neck.

I manage to say with a strangled whisper, "Do you've any idea how bad I want you?"

He grabs hold of my crotch and tugs gently. "Oh, yeah, I think I do." With a couple quick kisses, he pulls away. "You go first, but leave the basket; I'll pay for everything."

I fix my appearance. "How do I look?"

He smiles and says, "Like you're gonna get laid. Meet me up front."

I make sure the coast is clear; I kiss him, and scurry away with an awkward gait. Each step has me wishing I could walk through the store naked. I think of anything to relieve the pressure in my shorts to no avail. Standing in the front covering my now semi-bulge with a large cup of soda is no easy feat.

Slade's in line awaiting his turn. Our eyes lock. I bite my bottom lip seductively. He licks his and scans me over lustfully. Sadly, he breaks the gaze when he steps up to the cashier. Minutes later, we're walking hastily out the store and to the truck. He pounces the second we're inside pulling me down on top of him.

I loosen his grip and say, "Someone can walk by and see us."

"I don't care," he replies, kissing my chin, jaw, and then up to my ear.

"The motel is ten minutes away."

"Yeah, but thirty minutes before we can check-in, let me give you some incentive for later," he says, kissing me hard and deep.

<><><><><><>

Fighting off Slade's amorous advances is not easy to do especially with his tongue in my ear. He moves his focus to my neck. I can't curb my moans. The motel's exit is next, I breathe a sigh of relief and mutter, "Oh, thank God."

He chuckles in my ear and asks, "What's wrong, baby?"

"You're nothing but trouble, Jones!" I whine playfully, "Nothing

but

trouble."

I pull into the spot closest to the lobby door, and jump out before he can accost me further. I'm here before our official 2pm check-in time, maybe they'll allow me to since I'm already here.

Much to my chagrin, a system malfunction makes my check-in an aggravating one. I know it's not the fault of the front desk, so I keep my irritations to myself. Slade and I text throughout the ordeal with us both feeling cheated. Nearly an hour after arriving, my check-in is finally complete.

The clerk smiles warmly and says, "Again, I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Brooks. Sometimes situations like this are unforeseen, so as a courtesy, I'm charging you for a double bed instead of the king. In addition, here is a voucher for a complimentary two-night stay for two, which never expires."

Touched by her generosity, I smile appreciatively. "Thank you, ma'am, that's very kind of you. But it's not necessary."

"It's not a problem, Mr. Brooks," she says smiling brightly, looking past me out the door at Slade. "I remember what it's like to be young and in love. We've delayed you long enough. Okay. Your room is on the top floor. Go up and turn left, you'll be five doors down in room 19. The ice machine is a little further down on the right. If you've any further questions, call using the phone on the nightstand by pressing the front desk button. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you." I depart with a respectful nod. Slade's standing by the truck, drinking a bottle of water, which he hands to me. "We have room 19," I say, taking a sip.

"I can't wait to get the hell outta this heat," Slade proclaims, his irritation evident as he grabs the bags, and leads the way. Reaching the room, he steps aside. I fumble with the keycard but manage to get the door open on the second try.

A blast of cool air greets us when I throw the door open.

"Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" Slade whoops, dropping the bags on the table. He takes off his shirt, and stands in front of the AC. "That feels so much better."

I survey the room. The king-size bed looks comfortable; there's an HDTV mounted on the wall in front of it. There's a medium-sized table along the wall with the couch lined in front of the window. The smell of disinfectant hangs in the air though it's not nauseating.

Slade moves away from the AC with a satisfied sigh. I wrap my arms around his waist, and place several kisses to the back of his neck. He leans his head back against my shoulder, kisses my cheek and chin. We rock gently side to side.

A weird feeling fills my head, and even with my eyes closed, it's intense. I falter but cover by abruptly stepping away from him, and blurt out, "I'm gonna get some ice. I'll be right back."

"Hey!" Slade exclaims. "What's more important, getting ice or me?"

I kiss his forehead, and say, "You, always you, but we need to put the whipped cream on ice. It's probably on its last leg."

"Way to ruin the mood, babe," he says pouting pitifully.

I counter with an annoying whine, "But I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

Slade laughs softly. "Ok. Let me borrow your jack knife. I gotta cut these," he says, holding up the peaches. He places a soft peck to my cheek when I hand it to him, and he walks into the bathroom.

I grab our ice bucket, and step outside. After closing the door behind me, I lean against it. That feeling has to be stress related from last night. There's no other explanation for it. I push away from the door and head to the ice chest.

As I fill the bucket, I notice another sitting on the side, and I fill that one, too. I walk back to the room and hear Slade's rich laughter wafting through the air from four doors down. Stepping in the room, I hang the "Do Not Disturb" sign, and shut the door behind me. I see him lying across the bed watching TV.

Placing the buckets on the table, I say, "I can hear you outside. What're you watching?"

He turns to me. "Some show about stupid criminals. This guy got caught on the fence after he robbed the place, and called 911 to help get him free." He cackles, and goes back to watching the program.

Rolling my eyes, I grab the cut peaches and whipped cream, and stuff them in one bucket. I move the drinks to the bathroom. Plugging the sink, I place the bottles inside, and dump the ice on top. Voila, we have an instant cooler.