Selected Scene: “Get on the bike”

Parker nodded and scratched his chest. Ethan realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt under his leather jacket. There was something hot about the leather over his naked torso. Even in the darkness, he could see the outline of his pecs and abs. “What happened to your shirt?

Selected Scenes are a recent scene pulled out of my WIP. They are raw and minimally edited. 


Back to posting! My chest cold turned into bronchitis that took a good six weeks to get over. I’m back to writing and posting again.


Ethan kicked at a rock on the walk sending it out into the darkness of the lake. A kerplunk sound came back as it hit the water. He stopped and grabbed the rail. He pulled on it testing its strength. He had a restless-pissed-off feeling he didn’t know what to do with.

He wanted Sean, but he wasn’t here. It pissed him off that he wasn’t here and it pissed him off that a few days without him was screwing him up. Something was bottled up inside. He wanted to run, to scream, to fuck. His hand twitched. Usually he’d draw when he was upset. But what would he draw now?

He thought of the panels he drew of cursed Vikings. Did he have an animal in him trying to claw its way out? He kicked at the railing post. He was in the dark no-man’s land on the walk halfway between the town’s waterfront and the Inn. The park was still lit up as people drained away for the night. But not many came this way.

He kicked the post again. It didn’t help. He thought of John kissing him, the hotness of Josh, Tom with his cute nerdy scruff and even Parker–the shit that had this jealous funk of his. Or was that Sean? Who was he mad at?

He gripped the cold metal of the railing with both hands and pulled on it. He yelled out into the night, “I just want some cock!”

The sound of a motorcycle approached. He let out a deep breath. “Get a grip. Go back to the room and wank like a normal kid. Call him in the morning.” Something in him eased just a bit. He let go of the railing and turned back toward the Inn.

The motorcycle stopped. “Hey Cabot, that you?”

He thought about ignoring Parker, but he stopped and turned toward him. “Hey.”

“So what are you doing out here in the dark?”

He pointed at the lights about a half-mile away. “Staying at the Inn.”

Parker nodded. “Heard it’s a nice place now that they’ve remodeled it. I remember it was kind of rundown when I was a kid.”

Ethan shrugged as he walked forward. “It’s okay. Kind of crowded this weekend.”

Parker nodded and scratched his chest. Ethan realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt under his leather jacket. There was something hot about the leather over his naked torso. Even in the darkness, he could see the outline of his pecs and abs. “What happened to your shirt?”

Parker looked down at himself and pulled his jacket open. “Some ass at the party dumped their beer on me.”

“So, you didn’t stay?”

“No. Apparently I’m too old for Chance and everyone wanted to get fucked by the famous guy.”

“Oh.” Ethan wasn’t sure what else to say. He was trying not to imagine Chance having a three-way with Josh and Tom in the back of a tour bus. He took a few steps forward and stood right next to him. “Sean said you had a bike. It’s nice.”

Parker patted the shiny black gas tank. “Yeah, Beau here was my graduation present. Father never expected me to stay at a school long enough to graduate, but Stone Creek was my kind of academy.” He grinned at Ethan. “They got the discipline just right and the Commandant didn’t have a problem with boys being boys.”

“Oh.” Ethan said again. The tour bus fantasy was dissolving into one about a boarding school. “I should probably go.”

“Don’t you want a ride?”

“I… should… it’s not far.”

Parker’s hand reached out and grabbed the hair on back of Ethan’s head. He noticed the starlight in Parker’s eyes. He pulled Ethan closer. He didn’t resist. Their lips touched. Mouths opened. Tongues slid over one another.

Ethan’s hand slid under Parker’s jacket. He brushed his nipple. Parker pulled away. “Get on the bike.”

Ethan hesitated. He needed to go. He shouldn’t do this.

“Get on the bike.” It was an order this time. He obeyed.

 

Author: Stephen del Mar

Stephen del Mar lives in the Tampa Bay area and writes in the Southern Literary tradition. His stories are character driven with rich settings. They often have a touch of the paranormal, supernatural, or magical realism. Although he writes about serious subjects, they are sweetened with humor and wit. He says, "It's a southern thing."