From his place near the back of their property at the outskirts of a cornfield, Justin sat cross-legged in the grass; he pulled nervously at some blades of grass nearby with both hands as he looked over at the glow of a lantern emanating now from the open barn doors.  He could make out shapes from within, moving in distortion with the flickering of the kerosene lamp, but he refused to contemplate what exactly his brother and Brian were doing.  Besides, it didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening at the moment; he had already seen - and heard - enough earlier to know exactly what they were doing...

"Damn it!" he growled in frustration, feeling the tendrils of his own desire flaring up as he thought about the gorgeous neighbor boy who had begun to occupy all of his waking - as well as sleeping - thoughts lately, and who had taken inordinate glee earlier in tormenting him at the dinner table.  The boy was both exasperatingly arrogant but also oddly vulnerable in some ways as he thought back to their encounter in the Walker barn earlier.  Clearly Brian wasn't very comfortable in this rural environment; the boy was from Pittsburgh and no doubt more at ease in a big city setting.  When it came to proclaiming his masculinity, however, he had no problems asserting himself no matter WHERE he was...

Which was the crux of the matter; Jared was obviously attracted to Brian, too.  Of course, what gay boy wouldn't be?  "Just once," he murmured.  "Just once couldn't you have thought about ME instead of your damn dick?" he whispered.  He sighed.  He loved Jared - his older brother could actually be quite protective of him when it was needed.  He recalled several times in school when he had rushed to his defense in gym, for example, when some of the bigger boys in his class had picked on him.  It was definitely a big advantage to have one of the star athletes in school stand up for him, and he had been grateful for that.  It worked both ways, though; he had helped his brother out when he was struggling with algebra or chemistry and needed to maintain at least a "C" average in order to remain on the baseball and football teams.  He knew if it hadn't been for his tutoring - as well as a little bit of ghostwriting on his part for his term papers - his brother would have never been able to stay on the squads, and he knew it would have devastated him to be suspended.

Jared always did place a great emphasis on his reputation, and while he was in high school on the varsity teams he relished all the attention he had received as the chief jock.   Of course, in such a small, conservative town as the one they lived in, one didn't dare breathe a word about your homosexuality to others; the word ‘fag' would roll smoothly off local tongues just as easily as the day's farm commodities report if they knew about it and your family would be forever stigmatized, a chance that their father had studiously told them they couldn't afford to take with the state of the current economy.

Even though he had accepted their lifestyle, he had warned them NOT to go around ‘flaunting' their sexuality or even breathing a word of it to anyone else; he had reminded them that their livelihood of selling their mother's honey, their crops, everything that brought in money for them to live on, was tied to Versailles.  Even the money that was generated as a result of their horse race winnings would not be possible if others did not bet on their horse to win, not to mention the veterinarians, feed mill operators and storekeepers that would suddenly be too ‘busy' to help them out if they needed it.  No, they were firmly reminded, there was way too much riding on their silence to worry about being ‘honest.'

Justin did not agree with that mandate, but as long as he was in his father's house he had no choice.  He knew his mother didn't agree with his viewpoint, either, but she had been brought up to believe that in the household the man ruled the house and made the big decisions, not the wife, and it was an upbringing that she could not bring herself to break from.

So in order to keep his sexuality a secret, his reputation as a ladies' man intact, and remain on the high pedestal everyone placed him on, Jared entertained his younger brother with tales of how he would go through the motions of taking out the cheerleaders who were always the most beautiful girls in school while excusing himself to visit the bathroom where he would promptly drag the closest, halfway decent boy along with him for a quick fuck to make his ‘dates' with the females more palatable. Justin didn't necessarily agree with his brother's deception while he had been in school, but he understood it in light of the small-town mentality that existed.  Perhaps it was no wonder, then, that Jared had pounced on the first real opportunity he had to indulge in his whims with the sexy neighbor boy had had virtually dropped in out of nowhere, one where he didn't have to carry on any pretense as to his sexuality.

Just then Justin heard his brother's voice picking up in volume, although he couldn't make out what he was saying.  Could they be done already?  "That didn't take long," he muttered; his stomach fluttered as he made out the tall form of Brian Kinney ambling out of the barn, heading off in the opposite direction toward the Walker farm.  Apparently their new neighbor had no intention of going back into the farmhouse to say goodbye to anyone, including him.  He stared after him for as long as he could until Brian's form was gobbled up by the darkness; a few seconds later, he noticed his brother emerging from the barn, also, swinging the kerosene lamp alongside him as he placed it down long enough to push the heavy wooden doors closed behind him.  As Jared clicked a clunky, metal lock together around the two ends of the barn doors to secure them, Justin noted that his brother's shirt was now hanging completely open, the flaps flowing back and forth gently from the mild breeze that always seemed to envelope the barn at night; his hair, which had been so meticulously groomed earlier, was now mussed up and sticking out in all directions as if he had been strenuously working out.

His face darkened with jealousy as the idea of just what sort of activity his brother must have been partaking in surged through his mind.  His breathing heavy with anger and disillusionment, he watched Jared swagger back toward the house with the lamp before he finally stood up from his observation point, his hands balled into fists at his sides.  There was no way he could go back into that house and see the smug look on his brother's face.

Biting his lip in indecision and now silhouetted in the slim sliver of moonlight hanging above, his legs began to instinctively move him toward the stables on the other side of the barn; it was where he always went when he needed to calm his nerves.  There was something about the quiet majesty of the antique structure with the steeply-sloped roof, thick, wooden, beams and the rooster weather vane perched on top that always made his mood lighten, despite whatever happened to be bothering him.

Now as he approached the stables, he was greeted with a soft whinnying sound from the nearest open half-window.   Despite his worries, the sound made him smile and his mood lift just a bit as he walked up and whispered, "Hi, Boy.  I've missed you, too."  He felt bad about the lack of attention he had been able to provide for Headstrong lately; the fence painting had taken up much of his time the past couple of days.  He knew that Vic had made sure all the horses had been groomed, bathed, and fed during his absence, and the stables cleaned out in the meantime, but the job of keeping them all exercised, especially Headstrong, normally fell to him; he took his responsibility to do that very seriously, so the fact that he had been unable to follow through on that bothered him.

He reached up to fondly stroke the soft skin on the left side of Headstrong's nose as the horse whinnied again; it was one of his favorite spots to be caressed, just like the ears on a dog.  "I know," he whispered.  "I'll make it up to you tomorrow; I promise."  He blew out a plaintive breath between his lips as he lay his forehead against the animal's, cupping the horse's mouth gently with the palm of his right hand.  He giggled softly as Headstrong nuzzled the ticklish flesh with his lips.  "Sorry, Boy, I didn't think to bring you a treat; I'll bring you something out tomorrow, okay?"

He knew it was foolish; he knew the horse couldn't possibly understand what he was saying.  But he was certain that the horses responded to his voice and his touch.  He recognized that he had been born with some sort of gift; an instinctive ability to bond with them, and it was his avid hope that he would be able to soon use that gift, along with his love of art, to help others.  First, though, he needed to get through the summer, and that meant not only continuing to work with the horses but also dealing with his brother - and his brother's relationship with Brian Kinney.  "It's going to be a long, hot summer," he told the horse.  He thought he could see the large, expressive eyes blinking back at him sympathetically in the dim moonlight as he sighed.  "I better go, Boy.  I promise I'll be back tomorrow to work with you, okay?"  He stroked the horse's neck one last time before turning to head back to the house, his burdens still firmly in place but his heart just a little lighter.

"Justin!" Jennifer called as she noticed her son passing by the dining room archway; she could have sworn he had told her he was going to go up to his room to rest.

Breathing a sigh of resignation, Justin turned to pause in the doorway.  "Hi, Mom," he responded quietly.  He noticed that only the adults were now at the table; remnants of dessert and half-filled coffee cups indicated the dinner was now winding down.

"I thought you were upstairs, Honey," Jennifer commented as the others turned to look over at him.

Justin could feel the heat of embarrassment rising into his face under their scrutiny as he furiously raced to come up with a logical explanation.  "Uh...I did.  But it was so hot upstairs that I had to open the windows and go outside for a while until it had time to cool off."  Justin's father, always trying to conserve money (at least where house utility bills were concerned; apparently Jared's ‘hobby' didn't count when it came to budgeting), had declared that the central air conditioning was off limits until July.  Instead, they had to rely on big, metal, box fans to cool the typically hotter portion of the house.  Thankfully, they did a decent job of circulating air from one side of the upstairs to the other.  It wasn't the best of solutions, but it did save on cooling costs.

To his relief, his mother nodded with a slight smile.  "Yeah, I know how hot it can get up there."

She tilted her head over at the partially-eaten lemon meringue pie.  "We've got some dessert left.  Would you like some?"  She seemed to study him as she peered over at him intently.  "Are you feeling better now?"

Justin pursed his lips together.  Was he?  Not really, but he wasn't going to tell HER the real reason why.  "Yeah," he told her instead.  "I feel fine now."

She smiled.  "I'm glad to hear that, Honey.  Have a seat and I'll get you a piece of pie, then."

Somehow Justin didn't think he could stomach sitting there at the table with Brian's aunt and uncle, or risk having the memories of his and Brian's ‘game' earlier flashing through his mind, so he reluctantly shook his head, although he knew how wonderful his mother's pie was.  "No, thanks," he said.  "I think I'll just turn in; I'm pretty bushed.  Now that the fence is done, I need to get back to work on exercising Headstrong tomorrow for the race next weekend."

At the mention of next week's harness race, Sarah stole a glance over at her husband, noticing his stiff body language and the tight lines drawn around his mouth.  She knew exactly what - and who - he was thinking about.  Of course, he always thought of their son whenever harness racing was mentioned.  How she wished that things were the way they used to be.  That would mean that their son was still alive, though, and as much as she wished that that could be true, she knew that wasn't going to happen.   She reached under the table to squeeze his left thigh as finally he turned his head to look over at her.  They locked gazes for a moment before she told her hosts, "Uh, we'd better be going, Jennifer, Craig.  It's getting late and we all have to get up early tomorrow."

"Do you have to leave so soon?" Jennifer asked, not quite wanting the night to end.  Visitors there were few and far between, living far from the nearest small town, and she had been having quite a pleasant evening with their neighbors.  While Craig wasn't exactly the best conversationalist at the most ideal of times, he had still managed to maintain a polite back-and-forth interaction with Will while she had enjoyed discussing new recipes with Sarah, as well as news about Versailles, including the new library being constructed in town.  It wasn't the most exciting of topics, but to Jennifer they were enjoyable nonetheless.

"Yeah, we need to go," Will interjected; his voice just a little brusque.  He frowned in irritation.  "I wonder where that boy is?  Brian went out with your son at least an hour ago.  I TOLD him before we came over here that I needed him to get up early to work on the chores he didn't finish today."

Justin soaked all that information up like a sponge in a mop bucket, all the while wondering how much he should tell his neighbors about Brian's whereabouts; apparently Jared must have gone upstairs through the front door earlier when he had returned.  He noticed that whenever his brother didn't want to explain something he made a habit of quietly entering through the seldom-used front entrance and heading up the steps to his room without anyone being the wiser.  He knew Brian had no intention of coming into the house.  He supposed that it wouldn't hurt to tell them that since he had already mentioned he had gone outside earlier.  "I saw Brian heading in the direction of your house a little while ago."

They all turned to look at him, making him feel a little awkward over their penetrating stares as Will growled, "Nice of him to let us know."  He scooted back from the table, placing his navy-blue, cotton napkin on top of the table as the chair made a scraping sound on the hardwood floor.  "We'd best be off then, Sarah.  I still don't trust that boy; all I can say is I'd better find him in bed when we get home."

Looking a little embarrassed at her husband's gruff manner, Sarah pushed her own chair back and rose to join him.  "We had a lovely evening," she told Jennifer politely.  Turning to Craig, she added softly, "Good luck with the race next weekend.  I'm sure with Justin riding Headstrong you'll do very well as always."

He nodded at her silently, noticing a frown appear on Will's face as they turned to leave.   No doubt the man was feeling melancholy again about Dale.  He could feel sympathy for the man, losing his son like he did, but he wasn't going to exclude his own son from competing in races just out of some odd sense of respect for the other man's loss.  "Thanks, Sarah.  I'm sure you're right.  The horse is very consistent for us."

Sarah smiled fondly at Justin as she walked over toward the archway; he really was such a sweet boy.  "Thanks again for your help earlier, Justin," she told him.  "We really appreciate it.  Don't forget I owe you a cobbler."

He nodded with a smile.  "I won't."  And he meant it; her prize-winning cobbler - always much sought-after at the county fair - was one of his favorite desserts.  The thought of having an excuse to visit the Walker farm in the near future, though, made him feel both apprehensive as well as excited.  Perhaps he would have to take her up on her offer very soon if he could work up the nerve...That is, if Jared wasn't around keeping Brian ‘busy.'

"Justin," Will addressed him curtly before he turned and proceeded abruptly down the hallway toward the back door, his thoughts occupied both with his deceased son and with their recalcitrant nephew.  Sarah hastened to keep up with him as a few seconds later the screen door banged against its frame and they were gone.  As the car started up and he heard them leaving, Justin turned his head as his father called out his name from his place at the table.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Did you see Jared out there?  That Kinney boy isn't the only one that needs to get up early for chores.  I promised your mother that I'd have him take over some of yours tomorrow so you can concentrate on taking Headstrong out to the exercise track."

Justin nodded, silently pleased that his older brother would apparently be much too busy tomorrow to think about a repeat performance with their hot neighbor.  That was some consolation, he supposed...

"I saw him earlier about the same time that Brian left.  He was coming back to the house.  You didn't see him?"

Craig frowned as he shook his head.  "No, we didn't.  Now where could he be?  Justin, go upstairs and see if he's in his room.  Let me know if he isn't.  And if he IS, tell him that I want him downstairs bright and early at 6 a.m. so he can eat breakfast and get started on your chores.  If he gives you any guff, send him downstairs and I'LL take care of him."

Justin nodded, secretly pleased that their father would be the one meting out punishment if Jared objected.  It was about time that his older brother got back to work for a change.  "Okay," he told him with a nod.  "I'm heading off to bed, too."  He knew it was best to work out with Headstrong in the early morning so he didn't overwork him in the mid-day heat.  He glanced over at his mother, who was rising from her place at the table to begin collecting dishes.  "You need any help, Mom?"

"No, Honey," Jennifer told him with an appreciative smile.  "I can do it.  You run along; I know you have a busy week ahead of you."

Justin nodded before turning to leave, taking the steps wearily; the task of painting most of the day in the hot sun had left him bone-tired and more than ready to go to bed.  As he reached the landing and headed toward the opposite end where his older brother's bedroom was located, though, he was filled with anxiety.  Oh, he was going to enjoy telling Jared that he would have to wake up early for chores tomorrow, but he was NOT looking forward to his brother's arrogant recap of his rendezvous with Brian, which he knew Jared would no doubt take special delight in describing for him.  He knew his brother; he would be unable to avoid bragging about it - every last, painful detail...

As he reached Jared's open door, he noticed him sprawled out on top of his favorite queen-sized bedspread - the navy blue one with '57 Corvettes all over it - reading some type of classic car magazine.  He was still dressed in his dinner clothes from before, except now he had his shirt wide open and the sleeves were rolled up.  Justin swallowed hard at the implications as he saw his brother glance up at him as he appeared in the doorway; he pretended to feel more confident than he was, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest as he peered back at him.

Jared plastered a grin on his face, kind of like the cat that ate the canary, as he spied his brother.  Showtime..."Well, look who's up past his bedtime?" he teased with a lopsided grin.  "Looking for some more household chores to do?  I have some dirty laundry that you can take downstairs to the washer if you want."  Jared smirked as he reached over to retrieve the pair of white briefs that he hadn't bothered to put back on after he and Brian had sucked each other off; he had crumpled them up on top of the bed earlier, just waiting for an opportunity to use them to his advantage later.  It seems his ‘opportunity' had just walked in.  "Here," he said just before he threw them over at Justin, who ducked just in time as the briefs scudded on the carpeted floor at his feet.  "You can wash along these with your teeny-tiny, tighty-whities; I seemed to have stained them earlier."

Justin glared over at him, trying hard not to think about what that meant.  "No, thanks," Justin replied stiffly.  "You can take your own fucking dirty clothes downstairs yourself."

Jared slowly twisted his lanky body to rise from the bed and walk over to his brother...  "Suit yourself," he told Justin with a toothy smile.  "I have some other clothing that needs washed anyway."  He bent down to pick up his briefs as he replied in a sort of conspiratorial stage whisper, "Even with the condom, I shot such a load into Kinney that I had to use these to wipe me off.  Whew!" he exclaimed with a wiggle of his brows.  "You know he has a beautiful dick - and ass.  I told him if he's a good boy, one day I'll even let him top ME.  Sure you wouldn't rather keep these as a souvenir?  It'll be the closest you'll ever get to him."

Justin couldn't stand it any longer; his attempt to come off as nonchalant and uninterested failed him miserably as his eyes flashed in fury and despair.  He had to try and maintain some semblance of dignity, however, or he knew he would come off as a weak, pathetic kid.  "Fuck you, Jared!  What makes you even think I care about WHAT you two did?"

Jared snorted in skepticism as Justin's face reddened in embarrassment.  His brother was so transparent and just like any typical, older brother one of his favorite pastimes was teasing his sibling.   Justin always carried his heart on his sleeve, and this was no exception.  "Oh, you care, all right," he told him as he leaned in closer to his brother's face, close enough to smell peppermint; apparently Justin had been chomping on another one of those insipid white-and-red hard candies again like he always did...

He smiled knowingly.  "You're not kidding me, Squirt; you think he's as hot as I do.  The only difference is that he only needs YOU to help milk the cows!"  He felt bad as he watched an expression of pain flicker across his younger brother's face; his intent really wasn't to hurt Justin, although he DID have a reputation to maintain and it was great fun to tease him.  After all, it wouldn't do to let Justin know that he had actually struck out earlier.   Surely Justin realized he was way out of his league here.  Someone like Brian would just chew him up and spit him out with nary a glance backward, so he was really doing him a favor in a weird sort of way.

Justin used the palm of his right hand to push his brother away from his personal space.  His felt both furious as well as humiliated.  "That's what YOU think, you asshole!  Brian was looking at ME across the dinner table, not you!  And that's not ALL he was doing, either!"  His eyes widened as he realized that perhaps he was giving too much away as his brother's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Justin?  What do you mean...that's not all?"

Shit.  Justin's face turned a deep pink as he fought to explain his statement.  "Well, um..."

Jared crossed his arms over his exposed chest as he glared over at his younger brother.  "Go on...explain what you just said.  You said Brian was doing something else at dinner.  What exactly would that be, Squirt?"

Justin felt particularly vulnerable staring over at his brother's well-defined, muscular pecs.  Next to him, he felt like some wussy.  But he wasn't going to back down, either, damn it.  "Well, if you MUST know, he was flirting with me!"

Jared reared back his head and laughed, not only at the righteous-sounding statement but at his brother's look of smugness.  "Flirting with you?  And how, pray tell, was he doing that?  Did he bat his big, bad, chocolate eyes at you?  Did he give you a wink?  Did he waggle his eyebrows?  Tell me - I'm dying to know."

"No, he didn't bat his big, brown, chocolate eyes at me, you moron!  He...he was...."  God, how could he say this without sounding weird?  Well, he supposed there was only ONE way to say it, wasn't there?  He took a deep breath and let it out as he said, "He was playing with my cock - and my balls - under the table with his foot, that's what."  So there - take that, Hot Shot!

To his dismay, however, instead of being impressed - or even jealous - Jared merely smirked back at him in amusement.  "Oh, is THAT all?  Well, he did a lot more than ‘play' with me," his brother replied haughtily.   He reached over to ruffle Justin's hair affectionately as Justin moved to get out of his grasp, feeling suddenly like a two-year old child being greeted by his long-lost grandmother.  "You really are a hoot, Little Brother.  When I see Brian again, I'll make sure to give him your regards."

Justin couldn't help asking; it was one of those questions he didn't want to know the answer to, and one of those that he did.  "You...you're going to see him again?"

Crumpling his discarded briefs into a sort of makeshift, miniature basketball, Jared turned his body just enough to lob the pair with a perfect arc into the open top of his brown, wicker hamper located over in the far corner.  He turned to Justin with a smug look on his face as he nodded.  "Sure.  I told him I'd take him out in my hotrod as soon as it's road worthy.  In the meantime, I think I'll introduce our new neighbor to the good ‘ole swimming hole - swim trunks optional, of course."

Justin glowered at him in disgust before a sudden thought occurred to him.  It was HIS turn to grin now as he told his brother, "Well, it won't be tomorrow...Stud.  Dad wanted me to tell you that you'll be taking over all my chores tomorrow so I can work out with Headstrong for the race coming up next week."

Jared's reaction was instant and furious.  "What the fuck?!"

Justin was enjoying his brother's reaction enormously.  "You heard me; Dad said that you would have to..."

"I HEARD what you said, Justin!" Jared growled at him, upset that his plans to spend more time with Brian were being rudely thwarted.  He glared over at his brother as he said,  "Well, we'll just see about that.  I'm going to go talk to Dad right now.  He promised me that I could spend time working on the new car."  How could he do this to him?

Justin smiled.  "Go ahead," he dared him.  "He said if you gave me any guff to send you downstairs anyway."  Despite his disappointment of earlier, at least he could derive a lot of satisfaction out of the look on his brother's face now.  "I'm going to bed."  He was tired and suddenly weary - both physically AND mentally.  Hopefully when the first rays of the morning sun struck tomorrow, things would look a lot brighter.  Somehow he suspected he was wrong, but he hoped so, anyway.

"I'll just DO that!" Jared called after him in a huff as Justin turned and walked down the hallway toward his own room on the other end.  "Don't think this is the end of this, Squirt!  You can't tell me what to do."

Justin merely shook his head sadly as he reached his own bedroom and slowly closed the door behind him.

Early the Next Morning - Walker Farm

The sun's rays were barely peeking up from the eastern horizon as a bleary-eyed Brian slowly stumbled down to the Walker kitchen; in a case of déjà vu, his uncle was once more sitting at his customary place at the end of the table, sipping a mug of coffee as he held the open paper in his other hand, scanning the morning's news before he began his tasks for the day.

Will glanced up briefly as Brian ambled up to him, studying what his nephew was wearing.  Brian had at least taken his advice this time and had donned more suitable clothes for farm chores.  He had on a worn, classic pair of blue jeans, a sleeveless, black, cotton wifebeater shirt (although Will had no idea it was actually called that - he just thought it was a sleeveless, round-neck tee-shirt), and a pair of some weird kind of black sneakers that looked like they might have been a sort of pebbled leather.  He snorted softly to himself over that thought; it wasn't that he hadn't warned Brian about possibly ruining some of his good clothes.  If he WANTED to run that chance, that was his choice...

"Coffee?" Will mumbled, not taking his eyes away from the local section he was reading.  He nodded over toward the portable carafe that was sitting on a round, woven potholder at the other end of the table.

Brian rubbed the sleep from his eyes thinking back briefly to last night's events; after he had walked back from the Taylor farm, he had stood outside on the front porch of his aunt and uncle's porch, taking a much-needed drag from his cigarette and taking advantage of the solitude before his relatives returned from dinner.  He had stood there, his hands on the wooden porch railing, looking out onto nothing but field after field of corn and soybean crops.  No houses (other than the Taylor house, which you couldn't see from this vantage point), no city lights, no car headlights; nothing as far as the eye could see in the dimness of the moonlight.  He could hear an occasional soft moo from Checkers in the barn nearby, and crickets - lots and lots of crickets.  The sound was almost deafening in the still, tranquil, cool, night air.  He had never realized how loud the quiet could be at night, having come from an urban area.  How did one ever get used to this?

He had stood there for several minutes, reliving earlier events in his mind.  He had thoroughly enjoyed his little game of parrying with both Taylor brothers at dinner earlier; at the time, both boys had made what could have been a tedious event much more enjoyable.  Each had their own unique, attractive qualities.  Jared was much more assertive, sure of what he wanted, and not afraid to go after it.  He didn't hide his desire for him.  He liked that in a guy.

Justin, on the other hand, was clearly at a loss as to how to communicate his wants and needs, and was obviously much less experienced when it came to sex.  That much was obvious in the way he would easily blush at him simply after he gave him a certain look, or the way he was unable to hide his gasp of surprise when he had used his foot to probe what felt like a surprisingly large cock on someone so slender.  His tormenting of the younger brother had been quite entertaining; he had gotten a big kick out of evoking such a quick, immediate response out of him.  He couldn't hide his amusement every time Justin either dropped part of his dinner, or physically reacted otherwise to his overtures.  And he thought he would fucking lose it when his mother asked him if he wanted any more meat.  He grinned; that had been too hilarious, watching the blond try furiously to hide his boner as he hastily escaped from the dinner table.

The only bad part about the whole evening, in fact, had been his inability to fuck the older boy.  He had never expected to be turned down by some backwater hick from Kentucky (albeit a rather hot one, though); no one, in fact, ever turned Brian Kinney down and it made him highly agitated - as well as totally frustrated.  Normally he would have just dismissed the boy after a stunt like that and gone in search of some other prey, some other very convenient prey...The only thing that stopped him, however, had been the thought of being able to at least temporarily escape his bucolic prison for a while if he played along.  If the guy wound up being as good at fixing cars as he boasted, at least he would have a set of wheels at his disposal soon...

"Are you listening to me?"

The word Boy didn't spring from his uncle's lips, but as Brian returned his attention to the present and peered over at him, the word was clearly dying to escape from the man's lips.  He sighed, knowing that before he could play he had promised he would do his chores, and despite what his uncle might think, he always kept his promises, no matter how distasteful.

"I'm listening," Brian told him glumly as he pulled out a chair and plopped his long body into it.  He reached over for the carafe to pour some of the remaining coffee into his cup.

Will nodded as he folded up the newspaper section and placed it beside his plate to give him some direct attention at last.  "Well, that's a start at least," he conceded curtly.  "Your aunt's gone out to the chicken house to get some eggs; she'll be back in soon."  He eyed his nephew intently as Brian took another gulp of his coffee, noticing the boy had put an outrageous amount of sugar in it before adding some milk from the small pitcher sitting in the center of the table.  He always took his black; he couldn't imagine putting all that other gunk in his drink.  He held his tongue as he added, "Speaking of the chicken house, that's going to be your first assignment today.  It's time for the annual cleaning."

Brian didn't like the sound of that at all.  The word cleaning was ominous enough; adding the word ‘chicken' to it made it sound downright abominable.  "What KIND of cleaning?" he asked warily, hearing the backdoor screen open and shut as it creaked and banged.

Will didn't have a chance to answer immediately as Sarah walked in with a basket of eggs crooked under her arm by the handle.  She eyed both men cautiously, knowing how they liked to spar with each other as she walked up to the kitchen table.  Arching one eyebrow at her husband as a warning before she bent down to give Brian a kiss on the cheek and a small smile, she greeted her nephew.  "Good Morning, Brian," she told him softly.  "Did you sleep well?"

"It was okay, "Brian told her grudgingly as she nodded, turning to walk over to the stove and flipping the front burner onto a medium setting.

"How do you like your eggs, Brian?"

He shrugged.  "Scrambled, I guess, but I don't normally eat them.  Too much cholesterol," he explained.

He thought he heard his uncle huff like he had just expressed some sort of sacrilege as she nodded curiously.  "What DO you normally eat for breakfast, then?"

"Usually just some whole wheat toast with a little marmalade and some guava juice."

"Some what?" Will asked, temporarily forgetting their previous conversation.

"Guava juice."  Was his uncle hard of hearing?  "It's from a tropical fruit."

"Never heard of it," Will responded brusquely.  "Out here we have orange juice, period.  That's always been good enough for us."

Brian sighed.  "Whatever," he told his aunt as she looked over at him questioningly.  "Orange juice is fine."  Brian had long ago learned how to pick and choose his battles, and arguing with his uncle over what juice to drink for breakfast was way down the list at the moment.

Sarah nodded.  "There's juice already mixed up in the fridge.  Would you please go get it, Brian?  There're juice glasses above the sink."

Brian nodded as he pushed back from the table and did as she asked while she prepared the eggs and retrieved some homemade honey wheat bread from the corner, wooden bread box cabinet.  Slicing four pieces of bread off the loaf, she plopped them into the stainless steel toaster nearby and began to mix the eggs up with a little milk.

"Did you shoo all the chickens out of the coop like I asked, Sarah?" Will asked his wife from his place at the table.

Sarah turned her head to look over her shoulder and nodded.  "Yes.  Rhodie didn't want to come out, but I finally managed it.  They're all out in the enclosure now."  At Brian's look of confusion, she smiled.  "Rhodie is our Rhode Island Red.  He definitely thinks he rules the roost - in more ways than one.  He can be very stubborn when he doesn't want to do something.  I had a heck of a time getting him out of the coop so it could be cleaned out."

Will smiled then.  "I was just explaining that to Brian when you came in."  He turned to his nephew to explain with more glee than Brian cared for, "Your first chore today is to completely clean out the coop with a rake and the garden hose and then put all new pine shavings back in.  The old bedding needs to be raked up and shoveled into our compost bin behind the coop near Sarah's vegetable garden, and all the nesting boxes need to be completely disinfected and cleaned, also."

Brian's mouth hung agape as he stared at his uncle like he had just babbled in a foreign language.  He knew he had agreed to do his chores today, but being up to his armpits in chicken shit was not what he had had in mind.  "You want me...to clean out the chicken coop?"  He could barely get the words out.  A vision of him needing fishing waders just to walk around in what must be a ton of chicken muck swam before his eyes as bile rose in his throat merely at the thought.

"That's what I said," he uncle repeated as Sarah walked over to slide a portion of the scrambled eggs into each man's plate.  "And it needs to be done immediately after breakfast.  Trust me, you do not want to be working around chicken manure when the sun starts beating down on it, unless you want to be asphyxiated in the process."

Sarah returned with a plate of the toast as she placed it down in the middle of the table along with some of her homemade strawberry jam.  "It's because of all the ammonia," she explained as she finally took a seat opposite her husband at the end.  "It's not healthy to breathe it all in.  You need to wear a mask over your mouth and nose while you're cleaning it out, too."

"A mask..." Brian murmured in disbelief.  And he thought this would be better than lying on a bunk in prison?  Perhaps he should rethink that option.  "Working in chicken shit..."

"Brian, I told you about the language," Will admonished him with a glare.  "It has to be done.  Farm work isn't glamorous.  Now eat up so you can get started on it."  He left no room for argument in his voice.

Brian sighed.  He shook his head in disgust as well as resignation, knowing he had to do it.  That didn't mean he wouldn't find some other way to occupy himself later.  All work and no play definitely would make him a dull boy, and he had no intention of ever being called ‘dull.'  "Okay, okay," he grumbled as he reached over with the intention of stabbing some of his fluffy scrambled eggs on his plate.

He was stopped by his uncle's hand on his wrist as he glanced over at him.  "Grace first," he was sternly told.  With another sigh, he placed his fork down on the plate and waited until his uncle had said his piece, wondering what he personally had to be thankful FOR.