Pickup and Leave
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by Dakota Rebel
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Gay Fiction
Description: Bill and Tommy have been best friends for years and lovers for a little over a month. Spending every night together under the stars in Bill's pickup truck has gotten them through some tough times, but it's not enough anymore. Both men know that the time has come to leave their small town existence and build a better life together somewhere more accepting. They decide that they'd better make their last night in their hometown memorable so they have something good to look back on after they go.
eBook Publisher: Resplendence Publishing, LLC, 2012 April
eBookwise Release Date: September 2012
1 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [28 KB]
Reading time: 14-19 min.
"We ain't never gettin' out of here, are we, Tommy?"
"We're never getting out of here," I corrected Bill with a sigh. "And yes, we are."
"Will you stop with that Eliza Doolittle crap? I'll talk how I want." He crossed his arms and glared at me.
"I just hate when you act like a hick," I said, glaring right back at him. "Things are hard enough around here without letting people think you're stupid."
"Well, excuse me. I forgot we done graduated from Harvard."
"Shut up." I reached out and smacked him upside the head. "Just because you're not Ivy League doesn't mean you're dumb. I don't care how you want to act around the rest of these morons, but around me, you'd damn well better be your real self. I think I've earned that."
We were sitting in the bed of Bill's Ford F-150 pickup truck, drinking beer and watching fireflies buzz the cornfield. We'd shared the same ritual since we'd graduated high school five years ago, though back then it had been Mountain Dew soda or Red Bull. Not much in Osseo, Michigan ever changed.
"Fair enough," Bill said with a chastised smile. "So Mr. Higgins, when we finally leave this Podunk town, where will we go?" He drained the last of his beer and chucked the bottle into the toolbox in the bed of the truck. It never held tools but usually had empty beer bottles and energy drink cans sliding around in it.
I rolled my eyes. Ever since we'd been conned into watching My Fair Lady in our senior year, he'd been calling me Mr. Higgins. While it was true that I preferred him to talk as if he'd had some form of education, I wasn't constantly trying to change everything about him as he accused me of doing. In fact, I was quite happy with every little thing about Bill Thompkins.
We'd been best friends for years and lovers for a little over a month. Bill and I had always joked about running away together, but once we'd realized that we were in love with each other, we'd known for sure that we had to get away. Convincing him to do it was turning out to be a problem. Tolerance wasn't a strong suit in the backwoods town of Osseo. Two gay boys would never be allowed to carry on together in this place.
The people were nice enough but not very understanding. It's a town of farmers, mechanics and stereotypical backwoods hillbillies. If it was even a matter of just getting our asses beat once then be done with it, we might have fought. But that just wouldn't happen. It would be nonstop torture, day in and day out, if we made our relationship public.
It was impossible to believe we were the only gay people in the town, but we would be the only ones "out" if we did it. In a small town like this, secrets are to be kept in the closets...so to speak.
"Anywhere has to be better than this," I said with a sigh. "There has to be somewhere we can go and just be us without giving a fuck what other people think."
Silence settled between us again, broken only by the hiss of another beer opening. Bill handed me a fresh bottle then took one for himself before settling back against the truck window and staring out into space.
I glanced over at him occasionally. The moonlight reflected off his strong-featured face, and I felt a twinge of regret over all the time we'd wasted in the past. We'd kept the truth from each other for so long, but if we'd just been able to share our feelings we could have been together for years.
"I can hear your brain whirring," Bill said, humor in his voice.
"I'm just sick of hiding all the time. Fuck, I hid from you for twelve years. Why are we even still here?"
He snorted bitterly. "Obligation?"
Bill was an only child and believed he'd been bred for the sole purpose of taking over the family dairy farm when his parents were ready to retire. He hated it and resented them for putting him in that situation. He had no interest in farming, and they knew it, but they never supported him in anything else.
After high school, he'd had every intention of going to college, but his parents wouldn't hear of it. They'd argued that a degree wouldn't do a man any good on a farm, so why waste the time and money.
Hell, Bill probably could have gone to Harvard. With his grades and his skill on the football field, he would have been welcome anywhere. But he'd let his dad convince him that his place was with his family and he'd let his dreams die.
It was a big reason I got so pissed off when he spoke like hick. He said speaking properly made him sound like he was better than everyone else in the town. No matter how many times I reminded him that he was better than they were, he just waved my words away and fell back into his country bumpkin act. It infuriated me.
My family was a little more lenient. They run an auto body shop and would have been thrilled if I'd gone off to college. But since Bill was staying, I wanted to stay, too. I had no desire to leave this town and let my friend languish. My choice to stay near Bill probably should have been a red flag to everyone, but if anyone thought it was strange, they didn't talk about it.
"Let's just go then," I said finally, turning to look at him full on. "I've got money saved up, and I know you do, too. Just get behind the wheel and drive me the hell out of here."
"That's not funny," he said crossly.
"I'm not joking." I crawled over him and straddled his thighs. Leaning over, I pressed my lips to his.
His arms wrapped around my waist, gripping me tightly as he swiped his tongue over my bottom lip. I opened my mouth to allow that wandering muscle inside. It tangled with my own, and the faint taste of beer mixed with Bill's own unique flavor danced over my taste buds.
I groaned, dropping my bottle onto the truck bed so I could run both my hands through his thick, brown hair.
"Damn it!" Bill yelped. "You spilled beer all over my jeans."
"I guess you'll just have to take them off then," I murmured as my mouth traveled down the side of his throat.
"I'm going to be all sticky," he complained, though his voice was husky with need, and I knew he couldn't really mind too much.
"Don't worry," I said, sliding between his legs. "I'll lick you clean."
"I don't think that's very proper behavior, Mr. Higgins."