Always Mine Read online

  “Oh?” I wondered.

  “Yeah,” he took another swig, “I’ve seen guys like you in college. They’re the ones with the full ride scholarships and bright futures. Instead, you’re just slavin’ away on this farm for absolutely nothing.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. I played with the condensation on the side of the can while I considered my response.

  “I’m goin’ to college. I’m goin’ to be someone, someday. If only the old man would stick around long enough for me to shove it in his face.” He swallowed hard again as he choked on his words.

  “Be someone, eh?” I asked, “So you aren’t someone now?” He looked confused. I pressed my point. “You’re a farmer’s son. You’re the man he trusted to take care of everything. It takes a real man to take responsibility. You already were someone important. Sure, you might not have been important to a million people, but you were important to him.”

  “Him?” he asked, gesturing towards his father’s bedroom with his can in hand, “He probably wishes I’d never been born. He’d still have his wife to take care of him.” Joshua stood up and walked over to the fence I’d been working on. It was in a rough state, barely anything keeping it together except for a couple of stakes and some bad nails. “You know he tried to get me to build this fence once, a long time ago. I think I was barely starting high school.” He ran a hand along one of the cross boards connecting the stakes.

  “I thought it was stupid,” he said, “Why the hell do we need some dumb picket fence? It doesn’t stop anyone from gettin’ into the house. We don’t got no animals that we need to keep in. There’s no reason for it in the slightest.”

  “Did you ever stop to think it might have been part of his dream?” I wondered.

  Joshua paused. I felt like I hit a nerve, I didn’t want to keep striking it, but my stupid pride made me capitalize on the moment.

  “He and your mother probably dreamed of having a little white picket fence surrounding their farm house. No doubt they would have wanted more kids, enough to take care of the fields. He probably wanted to grow old with her, watch you grow up with your siblings and eventually find a girl of your own.”

  ‘What was I saying?’ I wondered.

  “Why would I want that?” he asked, “Why would I ever want to live out my life in some Podunk, one-horse town? I never wanted a girl. Hell I’d be lucky if I had time for anyone,” he added. He paused, though. I couldn’t quite tell but there was something on his mind that he didn’t want to talk about. It was clear he had more to say but just wasn’t saying it. His silence spoke volumes, and I had nothing I wanted to say to break his silence.

  Joshua crumpled his can in his hand and threw it at the ground. He clenched his teeth and let out a grunt of frustration. He scratched at the top of his head then let his arms fall lifelessly to his sides.

  “Why are you willing to give up on your dream to take care of a farm for someone you barely know?” he asked, monotonously.

  “Because when you’ve lived my life, you learn that a decent meal, a roof over your head, and a hard day’s work are worth more than a few strangers chanting your praises.”

  Joshua sighed with his back turned toward me. I don’t know why I said what I did. I hoped he wouldn’t pry further because part of me wanted to tell him everything. I’d lived all my life in frustration and fear. If I could say one thing that would let him know that things might just turn out alright, I would say so in a heartbeat.

  However, instead of talking, Joshua turned back and walked into the house. His silence spoke volumes. I didn’t move until the clomping of his boots came to a halt. I stared down at the empty, crushed can slowly piling up with dirt blown in on the slight breeze. With the last sip of my drink finished, I took his can from the ground, knocked off the dirt, and threw it away.

  Chapter 6

  Joshua

  I sipped at my coffee in silence. Coming home was a bad idea. Confront my father about our shared past was just as bad an idea. I wanted to talk to him this morning but he was sound asleep, and no matter how much I resented him, I couldn’t bear to wake him. What was wrong with me?

  Footsteps snapped me from my thoughts. Isaiah came into the kitchen, barefoot, wearing the same jeans from yesterday. This time he wore a baseball shirt that hung low over his waist and held fast to his taught, muscular skin. For whatever reason, I wanted to pinch him to see if his muscle was real.

  “Mornin’,” he said, jovially. It was still hard to forgive him for last night. “Goin’ to head out straight away. I have a couple other errands to run in town, so I hope you don’t mind if I leave you alone to explore for a while.”

  “It’s fine,” I nodded. I polished off the last of my drink as he downed a tall glass of water, “can we talk about last night?”

  “In the car,” he replied. Somehow his simple response was infuriating. Was he avoiding talking about last night as long as possible? Whatever the case, I knocked the dirt from my boots and slipped them on just as he did.

  The old truck was battered and bruised from years of use. Rust pocked the metal and the paint was nowhere to be found. The rounded fenders showed the hard craftsmanship of years long since passed and the windows were muddied from dirt and harsh rains.

  I pulled myself into the cab that looked almost as bad as the outside. The seats were molded, the steering wheel ripped and torn. The fact that the old truck was still in use was a marvel.

  Isaiah stepped from the house, cupping his hand to his forehead to help see into the truck cab.

  “What the hell are you doin’ in there?” he asked. I leaned to the driver’s side to speak out the window.

  “Aren’t we goin’ into town?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but I figured we’d take my truck,” he shouted back, pointing down the way.

  The blinding sun made it difficult to see but the bed of a green truck was sticking out from behind a nearby barn. Suffice to say, I felt like an idiot. I climbed out of the old workhorse and joined up beside Isaiah.

  “Old habits,” I said.

  “I know that thing still runs, but I feel like I’d have to be pushing it half the distance,” he laughed.

  His truck looked brand new and well taken care of. I slid into the passenger seat as he hefted himself into the driver’s seat. With a twist of the key the vehicle roared to life. We started down the road for the town.

  “So you used to take that truck everywhere?” he asked.

  “As long as I could remember,” I replied, “Hell, I don’t know if I could ever get rid of it.”

  “Trucks like that aren’t something you get rid of,” he added, “They’re something that just disappears when the rain finally rust through.”

  I laughed along with him. It was a nice change from the animosity of last night.

  “So, we’re just going to pick up nails for the fence?” I asked.

  “And some other things,” he said, trailing off.

  “What other things?” I wondered.

  “Oh, this and that,” he said, still evading my question. I didn’t want to press him further as it was clear that he was starting to get annoyed at him pestering. I sat in silence for a time, watching the endless golden fields careen by. I could remember all the farmers in this area for over twenty miles. I’d gone to school with most of their kids. Part of me wondered how many of them had taken over their family’s farm.

  “Listen, about last night,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he waved.

  “No, really. I want you to know that I definitely know the value of a hard day’s work. I want to help you as much as I can while I’m around. I’m not some stupid freeloader.”

  “Good,” he replied with a smile. I started to wonder if that was his goal all along, to guilt trip me into doing something because I was a ‘city boy’. The thought of being considered a city boy was frustrating but in some ways it was becoming true. I liked waking up to a nice cup of craft coffee and the hustle and bustle of people,
with way too much to do, going about their daily lives. It’s the quiet of the country that drove me mad.

  “What do you have against me,” I asked out of nowhere.

  “Against you?’ he asked in turn, “I don’t have anything against you.”

  “Then why did you say all that shit last night?” I demanded, “I think getting an education and becoming something more than a farmer is better for me in the long run. It’s better for everyone.”

  “Without farmers, what will people eat?” he asked.

  “Okay, I get it. We still need people like my dad. But, you never really told me why you keep on working here when you could be something more.”

  He went silent. I was glad that I might finally get my answer. Isaiah stared out at the long stretch of open road. The sun gleaned against the metal of his truck. He narrowed his eyes when the sun struck them just right and it gave him a rugged appearance.

  My heart jumped again. That feeling I felt the other day while watching him hammer in those posts was at the forefront of my mind; the sweat glistening from his body with each swing of the mallet, and my eyes wanting more. He scratched at his chin which made his forearm dance with muscle.

  ‘Dammit, where is this coming from?’ I cursed myself for my stupid thoughts.

  “I didn’t have anything else I wanted to be,” he said, “The sweet simplicity of working something with your own hands and making something grow is a feeling that I don’t really get from any other profession. That’s all I ever wanted.”

  I was ready to laugh. A guy like this just wants to be a farmer. Who would have thought?

  “You don’t want fame or money, then? Farmers are never rich or powerful. Well, small farmers anyway.”

  “Who cares?” he replied, “The way I see it, fame and fortune are about as useful as your dad’s old truck. Money brings peace of mind, but it also makes you lazy. Fame would just give me attention that I don’t want.” After a second he added, “I suppose if there’s one thing I really want, it’s a life with people I love. That’s a life worth living.”

  I didn’t get it, but what was the point anyway. If that’s what he wanted, no amount of convincing otherwise would matter. He was content to throw away his life. I was sad to hear his reply, but what he did with his life was his business. Something that I figured would be best to stay out of; if I could.

  Chapter 7

  Isaiah

  All was silent in the truck as I pulled it to a stop outside the storefront. There was only one hardware store in the area and it was right next to the grocery store. I spied Phillip coming out to greet me only to pause when he saw Joshua getting out of the truck. He smiled wide and ducked into the store, telling me all I needed to know.

  “You grab some two inch nails, I need to pick up some groceries and run those errands,” I said. Joshua nodded and ventured into the hardware store. I could already feel my pants starting to tighten as I walked into the grocery store.

  The space was mostly empty, not many people out this morning. Phillip gestured at me from the back of the store, holding open a door that read ‘Employee’s Only’. I stepped quickly toward him as I looked around the space for anyone that might be suspicious.

  He’d taken me into the large storage area where a few pallets of goods were stored before they were taken out to be stocked. It was completely empty, save for the two of them.

  “Is that the new guy?” Phillip asked, “He’s cute.”

  “And straight,” I added.

  “Too bad,” Phillip replied as his hand stroked at my throbbing dick just begging to be removed from its denim cage, “A boy like that is wasted on a woman.”

  He undid the top button of my jeans. My thick member poured out into his waiting hand. A few strokes along its length and I was ready for whatever Phillip had in mind. I pulled him into a kiss. His moist lips were like mana from heaven after the night I’d had.

  I could feel his dick through his pants wanting to be released, but as my hand approached, it was slapped away. Phillip smiled again.

  “Today is all about you,” he said. He kissed my neck, then my chest, as his head kissed lower and lower. I let my hand rest on his head, and moaned with excitement for what’s to come. His hand continued to work my shaft slowly and methodically.

  His lips teased the tip of my excited cock. I looked down at his proud face as his tongue circled the tip. I could have exploded from the sight alone but restrained myself. Phillip wrapped his lips about my throbbing member, still flicking his tongue under the shaft.

  The tips of my fingers went numb as all my concentration focused on the pleasure his mouth was giving. I gripped at his hair, begging for more. He obliged, taking in inch after inch of my manhood. I needed this. The stress of dealing with Joshua was building. I didn’t know how to talk to him in the slightest, and what’s more he didn’t care a lick about anyone but himself.

  I moaned as Phillip withdrew only to bob back down to take in has much of my dick as he could. Every stroke of the shaft was accompanied by a tiny wave of excitement that built inside the pit of my stomach and the back of my balls.

  My breath quickened as I exhaled the ecstasy that continued to mount. I looked down again at Phillip but this time my vision was blurred. Instead of seeing the wonderful man that I’d spent so many mornings with, I saw Joshua there. In the moment, something grew within me. A sudden surge of excitement raged to build inside of my dick.

  I wanted more of him. I gripped at the back of his hair and pulled him in tighter, ramming my dick down his throat. Everything that was Phillip had fallen away. The sounds I heard were no longer his, replaced by the grunts and moans of a hungry Joshua.

  The sensation swelled inside of me until I could no longer hold back. My body rocked from the orgasm that gripped at every fiber of my being. The man before me gripped tightly to my ass as I clenched my teeth, releasing sticky gobs into his mouth.

  As my vision began to clear, the façade that I’d cast over Phillip disappeared. His excited face came up to join mine.

  “That was the hottest I’ve seen,” he said, “You must be excited to start a life with me.”

  I still struggled to catch my breath, I pulled my jeans back on as I stepped away from Phillip. I scratched at my chin which Phillip had already started to interpret.

  “What’s wrong now,” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I replied, I trailed off for a moment as he collapsed on top of a stack of empty pallets. “It’s just-”

  “Lemme guess,” he interrupted, “You changed your mind and you don’t want to move in with me anymore.”

  “It’s more than that,” I tried to explain.

  “No, it isn’t,” he said, “You’re just afraid to make a commitment.”

  “For good reason,” I replied, “I told you that my family messed me up pretty bad.”

  He nodded. I knew that I would have to tell him now rather than later if I were to have any hope of keeping him from pressuring me into moving in.

  Chapter 8

  Joshua

  What did I just see? Why was I so turned on by it? I was so lost. Isaiah had his dick rammed down another man’s throat, it looked so wrong but I couldn’t turn myself to look away. My hand found its way into my pants and I was playing with myself almost the entire time.

  After the ten seconds it took to get the nails, I figured I’d pick up a few items from the grocery store that I’d need while I was in town. I wasn’t expecting to hear muffled moans and see Isaiah doing … that.

  “I was born into a religious family,” he said. I could hear him talking to Phillip through the cracked door easily enough. I covered my mouth to quiet my breath in hopes they wouldn’t hear me listening on the other side of the door. “I grew up in a small town just a hundred or so miles north of here. I had a lot of time to myself after gettin’ chores done. I knew I was gay since the age of twelve, and it wasn’t long after that my mother found out.”

  I creaked open the door a little fur
ther, doing my best to not make a sound.

  “She would beat me stupid while screaming out passages from the bible,” he said.

  I’d known what beatings were like. Dad could get pretty fierce when you did something wrong, but he never got crazy with religion like some people did, and for that I considered myself pretty lucky.

  “Hell, when she wasn’t beating me, my older brother’s would take the chance. They called me a disgrace to the family. They wished I’d never been born,” he continued.

  Of everything my own father said, he never told me he never said anything like that. I started feeling sorry for Isaiah. There was nothing wrong with being gay. Hell, I knew I few bartenders at places near college that were gay and they were some of the best guys I knew.

  “It took a lot for me to get out of there. I ran as fast as I could, took the first job a town over but they eventually found me and brought me home. The beatings were harder that time. I probably still have a couple scars.”

  Isaiah reached out and held the man he was with. Their embrace was so inviting, part of me yearned to join them. I wanted someone to hold me like Isaiah.

  “I didn’t know,” the stranger said.

  “I never wanted to tell anyone, Phillip,” Isaiah added, “I’m still worried about what will happen if they find me again. I don’t want to be with someone when that time comes because it probably won’t be just me that they’ll be beating.”

  “I understand,” Phillip replied.

  “I’m glad to be where I am, so let’s just take this slow, okay?” Isaiah request.

  Before Phillip could reply, I made the door creak just a little too loud. They were both brought to their senses, dropped their warm embrace, and quickly marched toward the door. I only had a second to escape. I picked the front door and bolted as fast as my legs would carry me. If the store had been any larger I might have been caught.

  I leaned up against the truck with the box full of nails and tried my best to hide the fact that I was trying to catch my breath. Isaiah popped his head out of the front door.