Don't Read in the Closet volume one (71 page)

“Let's get your
things, buddy.” Parker insisted
,
clapping his arm over
Jaime's shoulder, spinning an about-face they headed for the bus station to
retrieve Jaime's duffel bag.

****

Shredding
lettuce, Jaime observed Parker's confidence and ease handling
himself
in the kitchen. Difficult keeping his eyes off the
magnificent male specimen who made his dick throb every time he looked at him,
not helping they each were wearing only scanty workout shorts. Considering the
heat and humidity, the less clothing worn, the more bearable the heat. Parker
did not have A/C, not unlike most folks in the minuscule town; he was
accustomed to the heat. Still living in the very house he grew up in, an old
two-story farm house his grandfather had built. Never knowing his mother, she
had abandoned him at the hospital, just days after he was born. No one knew who
the baby-father was, there were rumors of course, but without his mother around
to confirm, the identity of his father was only speculation. Raised by aging
grandparents, who passed on somewhere about the same time of Jaime's parent's
passing. Parker's childhood hadn't been easy, but he turned out to be quite the
self-made man. Jaime couldn't help but admire him, feeling nothing but pride.
Never making excuses or allowing his shortcomings to hold him back,
Parker
took life by the balls. Now look at him.
Jaime may be respected for serving
an extended tour in the army, but it did not make him any better of a man than
Park, his bud was loved and admired in the community. You might say, the town
folk actually raised Parker, he
was
their hometown boy. Not able to
resist, Jaime could not help but sneak a peek at the bulge protruding from
Parker's shorts,
damn, he must be hung like a stud horse,
squirming to
adjust the expanding excitement within his groin. He was in awe of the sexy
hunk lazily stirring a pot of freshly snapped green beans and bacon simmering
on the stove. Impressed the man had not only made a reputable life for himself,
but also dinner as well, all from scratch, even baked sour-dough bread and a
Georgia peach pie.

“Where in the
hell did you learn to cook like this?”

Snickering,
Parker moved to the opposite counter, “from watching Me-ma, actually, in this
very kitchen,” grinding peppercorns, the course shards showered over the shark
steaks before massaging the thick slabs of pink flesh with his agile fingers.
“I suppose, I learned to cook out of necessity, mostly to ward off starvation.
Honestly though, if I ate every meal at Morrison's I'd be the size of a
frickin' house. Have you ever considered all the calories and cholesterol they
serve up with each order? Jeez it's scary.”

Jaime could not
help but laugh to himself,
for a straight dude, he sure sounds gay.

“What’re you
smiling about?” wrapping his muscular arm around Jaime's thick neck in a mock
choke hold, just like when they were boys, but, back then, his arm was not
covered in auburn fur. He enjoyed the muscled arm controlling him, so did his
dick, even though he knew Parker was only horsing around.

“Oh,” Jaime put
down the utility knife he had been using to slice a cucumber for the salad.
Staring blankly ahead at the kitchen counter door, he felt Parker's furry chest
pressed against his bare back. Secretly, he fiercely wanted to spin around and
nuzzle the fuzz covering Parker's broad chest. “I was wondering why you never
married, that's all.”

“Never met the
right gal,” releasing his hold on Jaime, to toss steaks on the hot indoor
grill. “And you, you’re still gay?”

“Sure am,
that’s one thing that’ll never change.”

“So, why aren't
you partnered? Haven't found Mr. Right?” The sizzle of the raw meat hitting the
hot grill melded with his teasing laugh.

“And what makes
you so certain I haven't?”

Turning, he
pressed into Jamie's backside, grabbing Jaime's left wrist, examining his ring
finger closely, “I don't see a gold band,” he teased, with a grin.

“Okay,”
spinning around in Parker's arm, still grasping his wrist, nose to nose, their
eyes lock, “maybe I have and he doesn't know it yet,” a suggestive smirk leered
crossed Jaime's face.

Parker's
brilliant smile waned as apprehension washed over him.

Immediately
after the comment, so carelessly spewed from of his mouth, Jaime wished he
could have retracted it; after all, he could not confess his true feelings for
his host. Parker released his hold on Jaime's wrist, returning to check on the
grilling steaks. Jaime observed Parker, worried he had said too much and that
Parker had picked up on his stupid, reckless slip of the tongue.
Damn it,
Jaime, if you don't watch yourself, you'll fuck up an awesome friendship.

“Do you
remember,” excitedly, Parker spun on his heels, “how we kicked West Hawthorne's
ass?” Laughing, acting as if he had already forgotten the uncomfortable tension
that had momentarily crossed between them.

“What a
pathetic excuse for a team. They sucked like no ones shit.” Jaime laughed. “Do
you remember the intimidation on their scrawny quarterback's face when he saw
you step up to the line? Hell, I bet he
crapped
his
pants. You're twice his size.”

“Who'd have
expected a state championship football team would come out of a wide-spot-in-the-road
town like ours? Shit, we barely had enough guys to make up a team.”

“With you
quarterbacking, we kicked some sorry ass our senior year, didn't we?”

“You ain't
shittin',” clapping Jaime on the back. “Ready to eat, buddy?”

****

Jaime could all
but taste Parker's naked body laying next to his, even though the bedrooms were
separated by a few 2x4 studs and panels of sheet rock, it did not prevent him
from fantasizing about him. The very thought of Parker in the next room made
his hard cock beg for attention.
Gawd, I'm so in love with the man, maybe
more now than ever before,
but, with a clear conscience, he could not act
on that love. Burying his face in the pillow, he cried himself to sleep.

“SHIT!” Parker
sprang up in bed, drenched in an apprehensive sweat.
What the fuck kind of
dream was that?
Climbing out of bed, a shaken Parker staggered to the
adjoining bathroom, vigorously splashing his face with cold water. Staring into
the vanity mirror, he asked the reflection peering back, “What was that shit?
I'm no fag. Why the hell was I kissing Jaime?” The reflection did not reply,
making him wonder if the wiring in his head had short circuited. Jaime and he
were best of friends, but why all of a sudden the erotic dream about him.
Why
can't I stop looking at Jaime's lips? What’s going on, I'm straight, right? I
love pussy.
On top of that, he had a roaring boner he could not explain.
Were his dreams and his sudden inability to control his prick connected?
It's
gotta be coincidence. It's gotta be.
The digesting shark from dinner nose
dived in his stomach, making him feel queasy and even more uncomfortable.
Stepping into the shower he struggled to wash away the unacceptable nightmare
and his persistent hardon with an icy cold shower.

****

Dropping Jaime
off at the Duncan house, Parker returned home to putter around the house.
Working the swing shift provided a free morning to run errands and get a head
start on laundry. However, he was unable to concentrate; images of Jaime's lips
swam in his mind, drowning in an unexplained pool of confusion. Everything
reminded him of Jaime, in turn making his prick hard. Had he eaten something
that had not agreed with him or was Jaime just on his mind because he had
returned home? Why was his body betraying him?
I'm not
no
homo. So why're images of Jaime consuming my every thought?
No matter what
he did, last night's disturbing dream haunted him, unable to block the image
and even the sensation of Jaime's lips pressed against his, it was driving him
insane.

After work,
Parker swung by the old Duncan place to pick up Jaime, not that Parker's house
was a long walk by any means, the town was not that big anyway, he just wanted
to help out his bud in any way he could. As Parker neared the porch steps,
Jaime stepped out the open door.

“Well, ain't
this special?” Jaime grinned, planting his hands firmly on his hips, admiring
an approaching sexy uniformed police officer. “Damn, don't you look fine in a
uniform?” Fine was understating the stud-muffin standing before him, using
every ounce of self restraint to not rip off Parker's uniform and rape the man
right there in the yard, in front of God and anyone else.

Parker blushed.
“Hey you stop it, or I might have to arrest you for harassing a public
servant.” Parker laughed, he had to admit, and he liked the complement, even
though he was certain Jaime was only razzing him. But still, he sensed a
rustling in his slacks, and it wasn't caused by the wind.
Damn-it-to-hell,
why'd I go commando today?
He tried willing his stirring cock to rest, but
it had no intention of cooperating, or was there a possibly he did not want it
to?

“You 'bout
ready to call it a day?”

“Yeah, it'll be
gettin' dark soon and I haven't had the electric turned on yet.” Jaime turned
to close the front door.

Parker could
not divert his eyes off the nearly naked man. He only hoped the man could not
feel his gaze burning into his backside as he eyeballed Jaime's firm round ass.
Wondering how his cock would feel inside that tight sweet hole, the very
thought had him leaking precum. Adjusting his cock, he could not let Jaime see
his arousal, the very thought made him shudder. Why was he even fantasizing
about Jaime's ass? Maybe it was because it had been a long dry-spell since he
had last tapped a nice juicy twat?
Yes, that's it. I just need to get laid.
This incident has nothing to do what-so-ever with Jaime.

Leaping off the
porch, Jaime landed beside Parker, making him jump, he was already edgy and
Jaime's enthusiastic antics were not helping the situation.

“You're a
bundle of energy after putting in a hard day on the house.” Parker nervously
mused.

“I was
rejuvenated when I saw you,” exuberantly wrapping his arm over his best cop
pal's shoulder.

Parker
nervously edged away from Jaime as they walked toward the car.

“What's up with
you?”

“Oh nothing,
I'm just tired, I suppose.”

“Okay, just as
long as you don't get all homophobic on me all of a sudden.” Jaime offhandedly
snickered. “Hey, I got an idea. Why don't I make dinner for you tonight?”
Resting his crossed arms on top the car roof, he looked at Parker on the
opposite side of the car, patiently waiting for a reply.

“Honest?”
Questioning Jaime's intentions, “but why?”

“I owe you, a
lot,” he shrugged. “You've been a terrific friend; let's just say it's a start
toward repaying my undying gratitude to my best bud.”

Spellbound,
Parker was unable to tear his green sparkling eyes from Jaime's captivating
lips, tenderly making love to each causally spoken syllable. What was the draw
to Jaime's lips? They were not the soft supple lips of a woman, but those of a
man, still, Parker had always thought they were the most beautiful lips he had
ever seen. He loved to watch Jaime's mouth dance when he spoke, it was like
poetry in motion, and he recalled having read that somewhere and it described
Jaime's lips to a tee.

“Ahem,”
clearing his throat, “earth to Parker.”

Shaking his
head, Parker blinked, emptying his head. Transitioning back to reality, faintly
aware he had yet to answer the question still looming in the air, he managed to
force a grin and nodded. “Sounds like a plan, buddy. A night away from the
kitchen, I could get used to that. Climb in, let's go home.”

On the ride
home, Jaime wondered, was something developing between them, were they becoming
more than just friends? No. He dismissed the thought. Wanting Parker so badly,
he was willing to read imaginary things into the situation which did not exist,
at least not in Parker's straight world reality.

****

After disposing
the dinner dishes in the dishwasher, Parker suggested they go outdoors to kick
back and chill with a couple of beers. Reclined in two folding patio loungers
under the stars, an easy balmy breeze breathed across their bare chests as they
silently digested dinner and nursed ice cold beers.

Parker stared
into the night sky, and swallowed. “When did you first know you were gay?” his
question came out husky and he drew a swig of beer, trying to lubricate his
suddenly dry mouth.

“I don't know.
It wasn't exactly something I jotted on the calendar with an expectation to
celebrate annually.” Jaime chuckled.