Road Trip

Dad swaps my empty plate for a new box of condoms. I try not to. I fight to stave it off. I lose that fight. My forehead beads with sweat and I blush a crimson red. I do my best to recover while his back is to me, rinsing our dinner plates at the sink.

"Dad! It's just us four guys. We'll be beach bumming all day and sharing two double rooms in the hotel at night. Even if one of us actually meets someone, it's not like we'll have the privacy to actually..." I let the sentence hang there, unfinished.

This is not the first box of condoms Dad has given me. The first came almost five years ago when I was turning fourteen. That was the worst because that particular box of condoms was accompanied by a long talk. A long, awkward talk. Dad said things about love, respect and responsibility that he felt obligated to say and I sat there and listened to things about safety, diseases and pregnancy that I wished I could forget. He gave me another box when I turned sixteen, just in case I was running low, and another five months ago when I left for college. Tonight's box makes four. I'm not sure if Dad spends time contemplating my usage rate but the sad truth, despite the fact that I turn nineteen next month, is that I now have four full, unopened boxes of condoms. Would he be disappointed if he knew that halfway through my first year of college I'm still a virgin? Unless masturbation counts. If that were the case then I'd be a veteran expert. Anyway, I could open my own store pretty soon. A secondary market for safe sex. Though it's probably about time to check the expiration date on that first box, not that I see a path to ripping into one of those any time soon, but as Dad always says... Safety first.

He slots the rinsed plates into the dishwasher and turns back to me, "You never know." He winks.

My flushed cheeks had begun to unflush, but now they flush all over again. He steps over and tousles my hair. He's been doing that to me my whole life. I want to tell him I'm not a little boy anymore and that I hate it when he does that. The truth is that I don't hate it at all. It's how he tells me that he loves me and we both know it.

It's been just the two of us since I was three years old. That's when my mom left us. Or left me. Left him? Who knows? The note she wrote said, "I can't do it anymore. I'm sorry." Dad waited until I was eighteen to tell me that. He never wanted me to feel like it was because of me. I always felt that way anyway, but Dad always made me feel so loved that I hardly missed what I really never had. He was never afraid to show his affection; occasionally with words, but more frequently with a hug or a tousle of the hair.

He says, "Just take them with you and I'll worry just a little less."

Dad never sent me away to boarding school or even for a couple weeks to a summer camp. I started college five months ago and this has been our first separation. Ever. But home for holiday break, it feels like no time has passed at all. We just spent a whole week together but now I'm leaving tomorrow morning for a trip to the Keys. Dad is cool with it. Besides, I'll have another week with him after the trip before I head back for second semester.

I say, "You shouldn't worry at all. You've known Quinn, Sebastian and Jay for four years."

The four of us have been friends since the ninth grade. We were never angels, but we're basically good responsible kids. We never got into any real trouble.

"Sean, your friends are fine. I trust all four of you. Parents just worry. That's what we do. Years from now you'll be a thirty year old man worried about your own important people and I'll still be worried about you."

I slip the condom box into my back jeans pocket. Now that I'm a legal adult, I could buy my own condoms. That would be less fun for Dad though. I guess giving me money for condoms would be way less embarrassing for me than giving me the condoms themselves.

He says, "Make sure the house is locked up when you guys leave in the morning."

The plan is that the guys are all sleeping over here tonight so we can get an early start. We're driving and it will take the whole first day to get there. Dad has some sleepover plans of his own tonight. For the first time in my whole life, Dad is dating someone -- Sheila. Since I left for college five months ago, he's had the opportunity to focus on himself. Maybe he should have sent me away to summer camp as a kid. His own condom usage rate couldn't have been too high for the last sixteen years. He might be making up for lost time now that I'm out of the house. I met Sheila at a dinner one night last week. She was sweet and I'm really happy for Dad.

As he slips into his coat I say, "Hey Dad. I'm way too old for a baby brother. Safety first." I pull the condom box out of my pocket. It works. Ha! He blushes. Then he grins and grabs me in a hug.

"I've missed you!" He tousles my hair again. "You better text or call me at least once every day. If you don't, I'll drive down there and find you."

Dad leaves and I wait for the guys. We all met in algebra class freshman year. Now we all go to different colleges in different states. Back home for break, this is the first time we've seen each other since August. Yeah, there's social media and texting, but we're guys. We're pretty loose and chill about the whole thing. Since our respective spring breaks aren't all lining up, we decided to plan a trip to Florida for New Year's week. Jay was able to borrow his mom's minivan and we're all gonna split up the driving.

We're all equally good friends, but over the course of last summer, after graduation, I feel more connected to Sebastian. It's hard to explain. I've felt some kind of pull more toward him. I don't know why. We always end up next to each other at the movies or on the same side of the booth at restaurants. It just seems to happen that way. Are Jay and Quinn better friends with each other than with Seb and I or is it all just a weird coincidence?

The last day we saw each other as the summer was winding down it was just the two of us. Jay and Quinn had already left for their schools a few days before us. The two of us spent a lazy summer day together. We were in my backyard mindlessly throwing a ball back and forth while we talked about the classes we were each registered for in our first semesters. The afternoon had gotten warm and Seb pulled his shirt off. I still don't understand why, but I found myself gawking at him. I'd seen him shirtless before -- changing for gym class, at the pool, on sleepovers... What was so different about that day? I was spellbound by his smooth olive skin. I found myself intentionally throwing the ball high or wide of where he stood. Every time I made him leap or lunge to catch it, the new way his skin would stretch and pull was a spectacle I couldn't not look at. How many different shapes could his normally small round belly button take on? And his shoulders, his arms, his ribs, his spine...

I've filled a mental photo album of visual memories from that afternoon. I'm embarrassed to admit that I also filled my pants with a throbbing erection. Was it the emotion of knowing it would be months before I'd see my friend again? Was it something else?

Another weird thing happened that day. I needed to get my suitcase down from the storage attic to pack for school. Seb was standing there as I stepped onto the ladder in the upstairs hallway. The suitcase was shoved way back into a corner and I had to stretch to reach it. Seb said, "Don't fall," and suddenly his hands were gripping me. I didn't think I was in any danger of falling, but his grip was tight. Since I was reaching, my shirt had ridden up a couple inches. His gripping hands were above my shorts and under my shirt -- on my bare skin. He asked, "Are you ticklish?" And I scolded, "Don't you dare!" but I was already laughing. He started squeezing and attacking my sides above the hips and I shrieked like a toddler. I finally managed to grab ahold of the suitcase and pull it down. When I stepped off the ladder, I looked at my grinning friend and said, "You're so dead."

He bolted down the stairs and I chased after him. Opening the screen door to the backyard slowed him down and I caught him in the middle of the lush green grass. I tackled him and tried to pin him down, but despite the fact that I'm one inch taller and a couple pounds heavier, somehow he was stronger. We tussled and rolled a few times before ultimately he ended up on top. We were both panting and breathing heavily. He had my arms pinned down, but that kept his arms occupied too. We were at a stalemate. There wasn't much either of us could do. Our eyes locked and suddenly I had become very aware of how close together our noses were. And our mouths, our lips. The play fighting and rolling around had given me an erection again. Just as I was wondering if Seb could tell, I couldn't help but notice the firm rod that he was stabbing my thigh with. We ultimately called a truce and the incident was over. Nothing like that had ever happened before. What was going on?

That was the last time I saw Seb but he's on his way right now.

Jay is first to arrive. We all like to goof around with sports, but Jay is the only one of us who takes it seriously. He's on the college baseball team. He is the fastest and strongest of the four of us by a lot. We like to joke that when we're all together, he's slumming it with the geeks. Jay is black but all the girls in high school had fawned all over him for as long as I can remember. The five months have not made him any less good looking. We're catching up for just a few minutes when Quinn walks in. Quinn is your classic blond hair, blue eyed guy. The girls don't swarm him like they do with Jay, but they certainly stare a lot. He's one of those people who turns all heads when he enters a room. When I enter the same room just moments after him, my average height and build, medium brown hair and green eyes turn no heads. But the fact that Jay and Quinn don't seem to notice these things makes them even cooler. We're still standing and talking by the door when Seb arrives. I step aside to let all three of them all the way in and let them park their suitcases and duffle bags along the wall.

With the final friend here, Seb pulls all three of us into one big hug. We don't mind, but Seb is the only one of us who could instigate such an act. All he has to do is smile, open his arms and we all fall into place. As we break apart, Seb and I make eye contact. When we do, two things happen. 1) My knees almost give out. 2) My crotch stirs to life. Seb is Cuban. He has wavy brown hair -- just a shade darker than my own -- and big brown eyes that seem to have a power over me. I guess not much has changed in our five month separation. Why am I feeling the way I'm feeling?

I lead them down to the finished basement where the four of us have spent countless hours playing video games and streaming movies. We have one sofa and two recliners. Some way, somehow, not at all surprisingly, Jay and Quinn take the recliners and Seb and I end up side by side on the couch. We talk and laugh and mindlessly play video games for three hours. We all ate dinner with our respective families earlier, but were all eighteen and nineteen year old boys. By 10:00, we're starving. I make a call and have pizza delivered.

It's like no time has passed. We all eat, talk and laugh. The plan is to be on the road by 7:00 AM tomorrow so while we could easily stay up all night talking, we really shouldn't. We decide to put on a movie before going to sleep.

When I sit back down, Seb presses his shoulder into mine, gives me a big toothy grin and simply says, "Seany."

My toes curl in my sneakers.

About ten minutes in, Seb makes a show of yawning. He leans back against his armrest and plops his feet right in my lap. He laces his fingers behind his head, grins again and wiggles his classic Adidas back and forth. He's wearing sherpa fleece lounge pants that look cuddly and comfortable. His well-worn sneakers also look comfortable. I can't stop staring at them. What is his goal here? The recliners that Jay and Quinn are occupying are a little closer to the TV. They would have to turn their heads awkwardly to see us. And since we can only see the backs of their heads, we can't tell if they're engrossed in the movie or if they've fallen asleep.

I find myself remembering the last day Seb and I were together. I never did get him back for tickling me. Yes, I caught him in the yard and tackled him, but revenge was never had. This moment right now is an opportunity. I tell him in a low voice, "If you want to stretch out and relax, that's fine, but the dirty street shoes have gotta go."

His grin widens, "Your closer than I am." He wiggles his feet again.

Does he want me to seek revenge? Is he hoping I'll tickle him? His sneakers are loosely laced and they slip right off his feet with untying needed. His white Nike crew socks are form fitting to every contour of Seb's perfect 10's. There is a humidity around his feet as his warm, moist socks cling snugly. I find myself enjoying the situation and I begin to stiffen again. My hands casually drop to his right foot and he flinches. I smile. I'm surprised that I'm finding his feet to be beautiful. Do I like feet? Is it a general thing or just Seb's feet? I slide a finger gently up his arch and he rips both feet away from me, shoving and tucking them under my thigh.

He blinks his brown puppy dog eyes at me and whispers, "It's cold in here and now my shoes are gone."

"I can solve that problem." There's a blanket draped over the back of the couch. I pull and tug and cover us both. Not only is the cold no longer an excuse, but if Jay or Quinn happen to turn around, they won't be able to see what's going on underneath. I extricate his feet from under my leg and return them to my lap. The only problem is that I can no longer see those cute feet. But... Like a blind man I can examine them with my hands.

I hook a finger under his sock and slip it off his right foot. He doesn't pull away. I use both hands to caress and explore every square inch. I glance at Seb and he's smiling contentedly. My burgeoning erection is almost at full strength. I wonder if he can feel it pressing up against him? I glance his way again. The blanket is falling away at mid-thigh. I can't help but notice his sherpa fleece pants are tented with his own erection. Full mast. Huge. His eyes are still closed in pure bliss. What are we doing?

After a thorough examination of each individual toe, I find my hands working their way up the inside of his fleecy pant leg. There's plenty of room for me to massage my way up his calf and caress up and down his shin. He lets out a soft moan that I hope Jay and Quinn don't notice. I take my time deliberately repeating the entire routine on his left foot. Seb is in complete vulnerable comfort. I grip his ankle suddenly with one hand and set my fingernails at his heel. His eyes widen in anticipatory fear. He knows if he thrashes or yells, Jay and Quinn will hear. I grin maniacally. I begin a slow drag up his sole and he grips the couch cushions for dear life. Once I feel like I've tortured him for as long as he tickled me on the ladder all those months ago, I stop. I'm nothing if not fair minded.

The movie that neither of us have been watching at all is approaching its conclusion. Seb pulls some blanket up over his shoulders. I slip off my own shoes and lie across the back of the couch behind Seb. I hug his feet to my chest, close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. The movie ends and if Jay and Quinn had been asleep, they're awake now. I hear them rise up out of their recliners and step over toward us.

I guess Seb's eye's are closed too because Quinn says, "What are they doing? Are they asleep?"

Jay replies, "It looks like it."

"Should we rip the blanket off them and wake them up?"

I try not to react visibly, but fear surges through me. They probably think it's weird enough that we're sleeping side by side on the couch. If they saw that under the cover of the blanket I was hugging Seb's bare feet to my chest, what would they think? I'm the one doing it and I don't know what to think.

Jay says, "No. Don't wake them. They're driving the first two shifts in the morning. Let them sleep."

I sigh in relief as their footsteps fade up the stairs.

~~

I drive the first shift. Apparently Jay and Quinn stayed up late talking last night because they're both sound asleep in the backseat. We had decided ahead of time that the radio would be driver's choice. Out of respect for our sleeping companions, I keep it quiet. This gives Seb and I a chance to catch up one on one. While we do so, several times he reaches over and puts a hand on my shoulder or my thigh or my arm. Each time he does I feel a little jolt of electricity. I have to force myself to concentrate on my driving.

I drive a four hour shift before we gas up and have lunch. Seb drives a four hour shift and we stop in Atlanta at a Waffle House for an early dinner. It's colder than I figured Atlanta to be so we're all shivering in shorts and short sleeves as we wait for a table. It's a booth and, of course, Seb winds up next to me. Against me. Like, how small is this booth? But honestly, I'm still cold and I appreciate his warmth. I lean into him as inconspicuously as I can.

Back in the minivan it's our turn for the backseat. This time of the day in December means it's already fully dark outside. We're still cold so we put the blanket I brought along to good use. Once we're on the road and rolling, Seb bends down, picks up my left foot and pulls it into his lap. He works my shoelace and frees my foot from its leather Nike prison. I know this sounds weird, but no other person has ever touched my feet before this moment. Just maneuvering me into his desired position is giving me tingling sensations. Then he begins a massage -- needless to say, the first of my life. I'm almost nineteen years old and until this very moment my feet were as virginous as the rest of me. He works me in all the right places and fortunately the other guys have the music pretty loud because I know I can't stop myself from moaning in pleasure.

My shorts give Seb access to the full length of my legs, and he seizes the opportunity. He works my calves but he doesn't stop at the knees. He works his kneading hands higher and soon he's inside the leg of my shorts. As he works the upper inner thigh, I jerk and spasm because it tickles. Seb mouths, "I'm sorry," but he's grinning like a fool. Access to my upper thighs is made easier because my raging hard-on is pushing my shorts up. As Seb's fingers glide up and down, each trip gets higher and higher up the leg until eventually, his fingertips graze my scrotum and I gasp and yelp. Seb laughs, but not mockingly.

He moves over me and it reminds me of when he had me pinned down in the grass that day in the summer. He lowers his face and for just a second, I think his lips will graze mine, but even though they're close enough to feel the warmth, they just miss. Those lips make their way to my ear and he whispers with hot breath, "Seany, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

Goosebumps pop up all over my whole body and I shiver. He reaches a hand inside the blanket and grabs ahold of my erection through my shorts. My head rocks back and I almost blow a load right there. Seb smiles wider and adds, "It's nice to have concrete evidence that you've missed me too. And I do mean concrete. Yowzah!" He lets go of my member just in time for me to be able to stave off an ill-timed orgasm.

I've never been so turned on in my short, sheltered, pathetic, virginal life. But why is Seb doing this with me? That's what I don't get. I can see why people would be attracted to Jay. He's both athletic and outrageously good looking. I can see why people are attracted to Quinn. He has Ken Doll looks and he's a sweet guy too. I personally have always felt a little pull toward Seb. The other two might be attractive, gorgeous, whatever... Seb is freaking cute. Ridiculously cute. But what am I? I am none of these things. I am objectively the least cute of our group. But in our group, that never mattered.