Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Author's Chapter Notes:

Brian and Justin have a close encounter of the watery kind; Brian discovers the lie that Jared told his brother. 

 

Later that Same Day...


Brian was somewhat surprised by the lunch his Aunt Sarah had whipped up for him and his uncle; from what little he knew about southern cooking, he had expected some lard-laden fried chicken, potato salad swimming in mayonnaise, and perhaps a piece of chocolate cake with icing two inches thick for their mid-day meal.   Instead, when he arrived back at the house to the sound of a cowbell being rung from a square, wooden pole mounted near the back of the house that signified the food was ready, he was greeted with broccoli coleslaw with low-fat dressing, baked catfish sandwiches on homemade, whole-wheat buns, and collard greens.  A fresh-fruit cup for dessert and unsweetened iced tea (sugar or sweetener optional) rounded out the menu.

 

"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it," Sarah said to her nephew with a smile after Brian turned his nose up - literally - at the sight of the collard greens nestled inside the white, Corelle-type bowl as he took his place beside his aunt and uncle.  "They have a lot of iron and they're very healthy for you.  Try them with a little vinegar on top."

 

Brian leaned over to peer inside the bowl.  "What's in there with them?" he asked warily, as he poked around the inside of the dish with a large serving spoon.

 

"Don't play with the food, Brian," his uncle quietly scolded him, making him feel like he was three years old.  "It's Canadian bacon and red union."  He took the spoon away from his nephew to say grace briefly before he turned to scoop out a generous portion of the greens and place them on his plate.  "If I can get used to this version, so can YOU."

 

Sarah smiled at her husband's grousing.  "Will grew up on classic southern food just like I did.  But a few years ago the doctor warned him about his cholesterol being sky high and his hypertension, so I slowly weaned him off the more fattening versions and started serving him healthier ones.  Neither one of us really miss it much now, and we're both a lot healthier."

 

"Speak for yourself, Missy," Will told his wife sternly, although there was a hint of affection in his voice as well.  Sarah knew he wasn't being critical, not really anyway, although she knew he DID miss some of her famous, batter-fried chicken.  She did make an exception for her prize-winning berry cobbler, though; Will always DID have a soft spot for blackberry cobbler a la mode, except now he enjoyed it with low-fat frozen yogurt instead of vanilla ice cream.  "Give me some of your good old biscuits and gravy any day."  He sighed.  "Those were the good old days..."

 

He looked at her with a sort of half-grin as he reached over to unexpectedly squeeze her hand before letting it go, evoking a smile of delight from his wife in return before she passed the bowl of coleslaw to him.

 

Brian watched their interaction with interest; it was the first time he had really seen his uncle act affectionately toward his aunt, and the first time he had seen him genuinely smile since they had met.

 

"Brian?  Up for a challenge?  You don't seem like the type to back down from anything new."  Sarah held the bowl of collard greens out to him tentatively, knowing her nephew would be unable to resist her gentle dare.  Brian studied the bowl for a few seconds before, with a nod of his head, he accepted the container and spooned a small amount onto his plate.  Squirting a few drops of vinegar onto the greens as his aunt had suggested, he drew a small forkful up to his lips and took a tentative taste.  Both his aunt and uncle watched him curiously as Brian warily chewed the concoction around in his mouth before taking a swallow.

 

"Not bad," he advised in his typical, noncommittal way.  Sarah grinned at him before she, too, took up a forkful of the greens and ate.  The rest of the meal was spent in atypical, congenial silence for a change as they briefly took a break before Brian and his uncle resumed the rest of their duties for the afternoon.

 


One Hour Later...


Brian warily eyed the machine from a few feet away.  It looked sort of like a cross between a push mower and a snow blower.  It had a handle and a pull cord to start it like a mower, but it also had rounded blades shrouded by a curved metal piece below it that he had never seen before.  There was no discharge vent, either, like you normally saw on a snow blower to throw the snow off to the sides.  "What the fu...uh, what is it?" he asked with a frown.

 

Standing a few feet away from him in the barn, his uncle scoffed at him softly; it seemed like Checkers was amused as well, for she let out a soft moo at about the same time.  "You've never seen a rototiller before?"

 

"A what?"

 

Will shook his head, still amazed whenever his nephew demonstrated his lack of knowledge regarding farm life.  This boy reminded him in so many ways of Dale that sometimes he forgot there were still distinctive differences, too.  "A rototiller; it's used to break up soil in preparation for crop planting.  I want you to use it on Sarah's vegetable garden."

 

"I walk behind it?" Brian asked incredulously.  The thing appeared to be extremely heavy; it was obviously made entirely of steel from how old it looked; there were definitely no plastic parts on THIS machine like newer models would have.

 

Will huffed out an impatient sigh.  "Of course you walk behind it.  Now roll it out outside and I'll show you how to use it."

 

Brian's gaze swept over longingly to a large, antique-looking red tractor in the far corner of the barn, sitting rather forlornly by itself and partially obscured by a faded, gray, canvas tarp covering most of it.  He had first seen it the other day when he had come out to milk the Walkers' cow and had been immediately intrigued by it.  Any type of machinery fascinated him (well, at least any that he could ride on), and this had been no exception.  He had lifted the tarp off it and hoisted himself up onto the seat and sat there, imagining what it would be like to ride it around the property, what type of motor it had, and just how fast it would go.  At the time, though, he had no key to it or he would have cranked it right up.  Now, though, as he stared over at it, he turned to suggest hopefully, "Why don't you have me use THAT for the garden?  It would be a lot faster."

 

Will narrowed his eyes as he asked, "How do you KNOW about it in the first place?"

 

Brian gave him a sort of ‘duh' look.  "I saw it yesterday when I was out here; it's pretty hard to miss."

 

His uncle looked at him with thinly veiled patience as he advised, "Nice try, Brian, but that tractor hasn't run in years.  Trust me, you would never get it started; it's shot.  So the sooner you get started with the tiller, the better.  Times a wasting and Sarah wants that dirt prepared soon so she can start planting.  She does a lot of canning in the fall and she's already behind."

 

Brian looked over again at the tractor emblazoned with Farmall letters etched on the side before he sighed in resignation and, curling his fingers around the cold, metal handle of the tiller, began to push the machinery along in front of him as he followed his uncle out of the barn.

 



Thirty Minutes Later


"Shit," Brian muttered as he paused in his work to take a ragged breath and wipe his brow with the back of his hand.  He had once more doffed his shirt after putting it back on earlier for lunch, the early afternoon sun now beating down mercilessly on his skin.  He felt like he was roasting - he knew he would have a motherfucker of a sunburn later - and the sweat trickling down his forehead and running into his eyes due to the uncharacteristically high humidity today did nothing to improve his mood.  He had found it rather easy to master the mechanics of using the rototiller once his uncle had shown him, and he was in great shape physically, but he was finding the actual work a lot harder than he had imagined it would be.  The dirt he was churning up was hard as a rock from the lack of rain recently, and as a result he was having to go over the same patch of soil over and over again in order to break it up evenly.  There had to be a better way.

 

"Fuck it," he finally decided as, tilting up the front of the tiller where the rotating blades were, he turned to wheel it back over to the barn.  Turning it off a few minutes later, he gazed over to the tractor for a few moments before walking over to take a better look at it.  Tugging at the heavy canvas tarp to throw it onto the ground, he began by making a thorough inspection of the apparatus.  It had to be at least 60 to 70 years old.   This was the first time he had ever been ‘up close and personal' with a tractor before, and in an odd sense it fascinated him but didn't intimidate him.  Walking slowly around it, he pursed his lips together thoughtfully before he located a metal latch that was holding the top in place.  Pulling on it to disengage it, he soon had the top open and was studying how to hotwire the thing.

 



Thirty Minutes Later - Inside the Walker Kitchen

 

Sarah finished washing the last of the dishes as she placed a dinner plate into the drying rack next to the sink.  "Is Brian out with the tiller, Will?"

 

Will took a drink from his water glass and set it down on the kitchen table before he nodded; he had just finished working on their toilet upstairs that had been leaking slightly.  Since their finances had gotten tighter in the past few years, his innate talents as a handyman had served to help them keep their maintenance expenses low.  "Yeah, at least he was starting on it when I came in earlier."  He sighed.  "I still don't know about that boy, Sarah.  He questions everything I say or do.  I can see why he ran afoul of the law.  He's too stubborn for his own good."

 

Sarah set the dishtowel down on the counter next to the sink to walk over and place a hand on her husband's shoulder to face him.  "I don't think he's a bad kid, Will.  I think he just needs the right type of influence and support."  She paused before adding more softly, "And I think he reminds you a lot of Dale...Doesn't he?"

 

Will let out a tense breath between his lips.  Sarah was right; there WERE a lot of similarities between this boy and their only son.  Was that why he was so hard on Brian?  Because every time he looked at him, and heard his sometimes insolent, stubborn replies he was seeing and hearing his son again?  His face contorted into pain as he briefly closed his eyes, the grief still fresh even now.

 

"Will?" Sarah whispered.

 

He opened his eyes back up to see his wife, the woman who had always stood by him in good times as well as bad, looking at him with concern.  Sometimes he thought she knew him better than he did himself.  He tried to smile back at her reassuringly, but he wasn't sure how successful he was being as he nodded his head.  "Yeah," he admitted to her; she was the ONLY one he would admit it to.  "He does remind me of him."

 

She nodded.  "I thought so," she said.  "He reminds me a lot of him, too.  Both stubborn as the day is long, and both so sure of themselves that they know the answers to every question before you even ask it."  She leaned in to rest her chin on her husband's shoulder.  "But we both know that's not true, don't we?"

 

She pulled back to look into her husband's face, seeing the lines etched there from too many nights lost in grief for their son as well as worry over how they would keep their farm afloat.  It had been hard - extremely hard - on both of them these past few years, but more so for her husband.  She knew more than anyone how his gruff exterior merely served to hide the roiling pain that still churned inside of him.  And only she knew what her husband was really like; at least before Dale had died.  How she longed to see that in him again.

 

Will gazed into the eyes of his wife, seeing the young woman he had first met and promptly fallen in love with.  For not the first time, he wondered why she even bothered to endure his constant irascibility and short temper.  Sarah was still relatively young and beautiful; he wasn't blind to the admiring stares from the men in town whenever they thought he wasn't paying attention.  He had no doubt that his intelligent, generous, and sweet wife could have her pick of several men in Versailles.  Why she chose to stick by him was a mystery, especially since Dale had died and he had retreated into himself.  But for whatever reason, she was looking at him with the same expression of love she had always given him, and for that he would be eternally grateful.

 

"I guess we do," he finally admitted to her as he pressed his forehead against hers.  "I just hope my patience doesn't run out before he admits he needs it."

 

As they pulled back a few inches, she grinned at him; he couldn't help grinning back at her in return, seeing the look of quiet joy on her face.  It was a look she was seldom bestowed with and he could tell how happy it made her.  He would have to try somehow to give her that same look more often, he thought to himself, before he noticed a frown appear on her face.  Her gaze was directed over his shoulder at something else as he heard her say almost in a faraway voice, "Will..."

 

"What?"

 

"Uh...isn't that your old tractor?"

 

"What?"  Will turned around to see what his wife was looking at through their kitchen window that overlooked the medium-sized plot of land that hosted her annual vegetable garden each year, and his eyes widened in shock.  It was his old Farmall, all right; and there, perched like a giant, preening peacock on the slightly rusty seat, was their nephew, bouncing along on top like he was an old-time veteran.  The only thing missing was a pair of faded overalls like their son used to wear when HE rode around on it.  His heart skipped a beat as for just a second he thought he saw Dale there instead of Brian before he muttered, "Well, I'll be damned..."  He scratched the top of his head in amazement and blinked to make sure he wasn't just seeing things, but when he opened his eyes back up his nephew was still sitting up on top of the seat like he owned it.

 

Sarah pursed her lips together to keep from laughing at her husband's unexpected slip of profanity before she watched him hurry over toward the back screen door to open it.  "Will, be careful..." she admonished him, knowing he would realize what she meant.

 

Will walked out to the backyard, just in time to intercept boy and tractor as the bulky machine came to a slow, sputtering halt beside him.  Brian peered down at him through mirrored sunglasses as he shouted to be heard.  "You got this contraption to start?!" he yelled in amazement.

 

Brian took off his sunglasses, squinting to readjust his eyesight as he peered down at him in an exact duplication of how his son used to look at him whenever he asked a redundant question.  "You really want me to answer that?"

 

Will shook his head before he muttered loudly, "Never mind!  Wait!" he urged him as he heard Brian revving up the engine again and getting ready to head toward the garden.  "I need to show you how to work the cultivator part!"  He stepped up on the running board alongside Brian and reached over to begin demonstrating how the controls worked as Brian nodded his head in understanding.

 

From her viewpoint at the back screen door, Sara's heart leapt at the sight of her husband and nephew working together for a change.  For once, her husband's face was animated and alive, not dull and void of any emotion like it normally was.  She watched as he jumped down from the tractor shortly afterward before Brian put his foot down on the accelerator and the Farmall started to move again.  Soon, she could see dirt being kicked up from her garden patch as their nephew adeptly cut up the cake-like dirt for her vegetable garden.  Will watched, also, for a few moments, satisfied that Brian seemed to know what he was doing, before he turned and flashed a warm smile at his wife.  For the first time, it was one of his ‘pre-accident' smiles and the sight quickly filled Sarah's heart with joy as she smiled back at him in return, her eyes tearing up at the wondrous sight.  Her heart just a little more hopeful now, she decided it was time to break out her canning books.  It looked like she would need them after all.

 

 



Early Evening


The steady, rhythmic squeaking of springs on the back porch's swing alerted Justin to his mother's presence before he actually saw her.  Sweaty and bone-weary from exercising Headstrong and caring for all the other horses in the stables, he dragged one foot in front of the other as he walked up the narrow stone path to the porch steps and slowly ascended the stairs.  "Hi, Mom," he called over to his mother as he turned to the right to walk over and join her on their Amish-built, cedar porch swing.  The swing was his mother's favorite piece of furniture on the porch - eight feet long and made of narrow, cedar slats with a curved top, it was somewhat more expensive than typical swings, but they had found it last summer at a flea market and his mother had found that she just had to have it.  Insisting that it was being purchased strictly from her honey profits, she had talked Craig into carting it home in their trailer, and since then she had spent many an early evening in the swing, relaxing with a glass of iced tea and listening to the night sounds that enveloped them.  It was one of the things that she loved about living in the country - the ability to appreciate all that nature had to give them, and enjoy that special time between the waning light of early evening and dusk when the world seemed to stopped moving quite so quickly.

 

She smiled fondly at her tired son.  "Hi, Honey," she greeted him as he plopped down beside her with a groan.  "You look exhausted."  She couldn't help reaching up to briefly ruffle the top of his hair fondly, just like she used to do when Justin was a young child.

 

He nodded as he let out a breath between his lips.  "It's only June!" he grumbled.  "It's not supposed to be this humid yet!"

 

She smiled at him, reaching over to pour a glass of iced tea into a spare, plastic, insulated tumbler glass, the kind that kept drinks colder for a longer period of time.

 

"Thanks," he said with a grateful smile as she handed it to him.  He looked around.  "Where's Jared and Dad?" he asked curiously.

 

She twisted her lips wryly.  "Where do you think?" she asked him.  "Your brother finally got done with his chores, so he and your father are..."

 

"...Out in the barn working on that car," Justin supplied for her as Jennifer nodded; he could hear faint banging sounds now coming from the direction of the storage barn.   He sighed.  "That's a big surprise," he stated sarcastically.  He rubbed his left hand through his sweat-slicked, stiff hair.   "I am so tired," he admitted.  "And I'm all sweaty now, too."  He looked over toward the back door.  "I'm not looking forward to going upstairs to all that heat at the moment.  And a hot shower doesn't exactly sound very appealing, either."

 

She nodded sympathetically.  "Why don't you walk down to the lake and take a swim instead?" she suggested.   "As hot as it's been lately, the water should feel really nice now."

 

Justin's eyes lit up at the thought.  "That sounds like a great idea," he told her.  "Do you mind if I skip dinner and just grab a sandwich when I get back?  Besides, I'm so icky and grimy right now, I don't think I'd make a great dinner companion."

 

She laughed as she wound her arm around her son's shoulder and hugged him to her briefly before letting him go.  "You ARE awfully stinky," she teased him as she felt the wetness through his sweat-soaked shirt.  "You smell like a workhorse."

 

He grinned at her as he replied facetiously, "I can't imagine why."  He quickly gulped down the rest of his tea and set it down on the small, white, oval-shaped, wicker table in front of them before he placed his hands palm-down on his thighs and pushed himself up into a standing position.  "I'll be back in a little while, then," he told her as he turned to go.

 

"Be careful, Honey," Jennifer couldn't help calling out to him.  She knew her youngest son could take care of himself, and that out here there really wasn't much to worry about safety-wise, but that still didn't keep her from saying it anyway.

 

Justin gave her a long-suffering look.  "Mom...I'll be fine," he assured her.  "I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?"

 

She smiled a little sheepishly.  "Okay.  I'll save some leftover roast beef for you from dinner so you can make a sandwich with it later."

 

He nodded gratefully as he trotted down the steps, still sensing the oppressive humidity practically smothering him but looking forward to a nice, cool dip in the lake that was situated toward the back of their property.  It was surrounded by a grove of sycamore and cedar trees that kept it much cooler than the rest of their farm, especially on days like this.  It was one of his favorite spots on the farm, a perfect place for a little recreation as well as a great location to do some sketching. 

 

He had lost track of how many times he had sat on the bank, lost in his work as he sketched a landscape of the terrain or drew one of their horses from memory.  Typically it was one of Headstrong, but he had also drawn True Blue on several occasions.  TB, as he not-so-fondly called him at times, should have been the one to be called ‘headstrong,' actually, because the name definitely fit.  The horse was obstinate, stubborn, and downright pigheaded, but also could be dangerous.  Even though he prided himself on how well he could handle horses, and how they seemed to naturally migrate toward him, he had long given up on THAT one.  Of course, the horse hadn't originally belonged to them, anyway; he had been the Walkers' horse, or to be more precise, Dale's.  Perhaps the horse's heart had been broken when Dale had died, too, much like his parents' had; before it happened he had never recalled the horse acting that way.  Now, though, even HE shied away from him, leaving it up to Vic to care for the horse as much as possible while keeping a respectful distance from him.

 

He shook his head, forcing his mind away from such depressing thoughts, as he hurried toward the watering hole; it was a medium-sized lake, actually, constructed several years ago mainly for serving herds of cattle.  But as the farm's focus had shifted from raising livestock to caring for racehorses, its purpose had changed to more of an amusement for him and his brother now, not to mention some of their other schoolmates who enjoyed frequenting it, especially on days like this.  Today, though, Justin was glad that he would be alone, because he had a lot to think about:  the horse race coming up, his education, his parents' financial situation, and last but certainly not least, a certain cocky but unforgettable neighbor boy who both fascinated him as well as totally exasperated the hell out of him.

 

As he threaded through the narrow, dirt path that curved back and forth among the thicket of trees, he could almost feel his stress level lowering with each step as eventually he caught his first glimpse of the placid, sparkling water ahead; he could hear the loud staccato sound of a pileated woodpecker nearby, high up in a dead oak tree, as he began to unbutton his shirt and jeans.  He threw the shirt on the ground, his jeans, shoes, and socks quickly joining it on the bank as he pulled his briefs down to shimmy out of them.  He could feel the cooler breeze blowing on his heated skin as he stood there unclothed, the wind caressing him gently, as he walked over to the edge of the lake and tentatively poked his big toe into the water.

 

"Ahhh," he smiled in pleasure as he noted the tepid temperature.  "Perfect..."  Walking around to an adjacent, more highly elevated part of the bank where a chunk of jagged rock stuck out prominently over the water, he reached up to grab onto the thick grapevine hanging overhead and with a joyous, childish cry of "cowabunga!", he swung out onto the surface of the lake and let go of the vine, dropping with a decided splash into one of the deeper parts of the water.

 

A few minutes later, he was happily floating on his back, enjoying the cool refreshment of the water as he closed his eyes in blissful peace, temporarily forgetting his anxiety.

 



Same Time

 

"Shit!" Brian groused as the bare skin of his wrist came into contact with a blackberry thorn.  From the stinging sensation he felt, he knew there would no doubt be an ugly, red streak tomorrow where the thorn had torn across his arm.  "This had fucking better be worth it," he muttered as he made sure to keep to the dirt trail his aunt had told him about.

 

He had been astounded a little earlier when his uncle had actually complimented him on his preparation of the ground for his aunt's garden, and he had almost fallen over in shock when the man had grudgingly mumbled a ‘thank you' for bringing the tractor back to life after he had declared it non-repairable.  Brian himself couldn't really explain HOW he had done it; he had just jiggled a bunch of wires, tightened up bolts and screws and unfamiliar parts that appeared to be loose, and with a ‘Hail Mary' in tribute to his mother he had joined the two wires together to hotwire it.  The engine had sputtered and coughed out billowing rolls of black exhaust smoke initially, almost choking the shit out of him, before it had miraculously come to life. 

 

Tentative at first, the engine became smoother and smoother until finally it was running steadily without any gaps.  Once he had finished the plowing in record time and had returned to the barn, turning the antique tractor off, his uncle had grabbed the key from a ledge above one of the doors, jammed it into the ignition slot and turned it to the right to make sure it would start again, and discovered surprisingly that it did.  He repeated the action once more just to make sure it wasn't a fluke before, muttering to himself that he ‘still didn't believe it,' he cocked his baseball-capped head over at Brian to declare, "I don't know how you did it, Brian, but...thanks."

 

The last word came out so softly that Brian thought at first he had misunderstood.  "What was that last word again?  I'm sure I didn't hear that right."

 

His uncle had sighed in exasperation.  Raising his voice, he had heard him clearly the second time.  "I said...THANK YOU."

 

He recalled his uncle looking at him curiously as he had looked around like he was searching for something.  "What?" he had asked him, perturbed.

 

Brian remembered smirking then.  "I'm just making sure the earth isn't going to swallow me up whole."

 

His uncle had huffed at him.  "Very funny," he had retorted.  "Let's go - your aunt's got some homemade frozen yogurt in the freezer that she made earlier."  He had paused to study him.  "You like vanilla?"

 

Brian had bitten back a snappy comeback, wanting desperately to remark that it was cock size that mattered, not their skin color, but he wisely chose to bite his tongue and had simply nodded his head before saying, "Yeah, I do."

 

His uncle had nodded.  "Let's go, then." And with that, he had turned and walked out of the barn, Brian following several steps behind him.

 

It was during those bowls of amazing vanilla frozen yogurt a few minutes later that his aunt had mentioned a swimming hole - or more accurately, a medium-sized lake - on the Taylor property that was often used to cool off with during the particularly hot months of July and August, which were typically known for their high humidity and temps in the 90's, making everyone who didn't have central air conditioning especially miserable.  She had mentioned that Jennifer had often told her that whenever they wanted to use it, they were welcome to do so.

 

Feeling particularly grubby after his work in the chicken coop and from tilling the garden soil, Brian had welcomed the idea, thinking the lake sounded like a perfect alternative to taking a shower.  So with instructions on how to get there, he had quickly set off in search of the watery oasis.

 

Now, as he came out into a clearing and saw the body of water he had been searching for, he noticed immediately that he wasn't the only one taking advantage of a respite from strenuous labor.  He quickly ducked around a large cedar tree nearby before craning his head around carefully to take a closer look at the person in the water.  His eyes widened and he smiled in delight over his good fortune as he recognized Justin Taylor lying fully relaxed about twenty feet away from the nearest bank.  He was floating on his back with his eyes closed, the placid water lapping like gentle caresses around his flawless, creamy-colored skin.

 

Brian began to salivate at the wondrous sight in front of him. Justin's cock, relaxed and heavy, was bobbing in the water, giving him just a brief, tantalizing peek of it as it surfaced and then dived back under again and again like some sexy submarine.  He licked his lips in anticipation, wondering what it would be like to take that organ in his mouth and suck on it, taste it, indulge in it.  He could almost feel the silkiness of it, the bulk of it, the wet warmth.  He had never had sex in a lake, but as he continued to openly admire the compact, oh-so-perfectly proportioned body of the younger Taylor boy floating effortlessly on top of the bluish-green water, he was getting painfully hard just thinking about it.

 

Watching to make sure that Justin didn't open his eyes, he smiled as he began to peel his own clothes off, noticing the other boy's attire lying nearby in a heap on the dry, dirt ground.  A wicked inspiration occurred to him as he quickly discarded the rest of his clothes and, draping them over a low-hanging limb of the cedar tree, walked over to pick up the other boy's clothing and shoes from their place on the ground.  Looking around hurriedly, he found a large tree stump with a hollowed-out crevice in it about fifteen feet away.  Walking over to the dead oak tree, he hurriedly bunched up the clothes and shoes and stuffed them as far back into the hole as he could, over to the right where they couldn't be easily detected.  Grinning at his cleverness, he quickly turned and walked toward the bank, feeling his cock hardening even more as he kept a close eye on his prey.

 

Impatient to get to Justin, but also knowing he had to be stealthy, he slowly entered the lake and began to wade over to him in the chest-deep water, relieved that it wasn't frigidly cold but pleasantly temperate as he carefully crept closer and closer to the other boy.  As he got nearer to him, his estimation of his prize rose dramatically.  The boy was heavenly.  Not a blemish on his slightly sun-kissed skin, downy, almost unnoticeable fine hairs on his arms and legs, a flat belly and just the right amount of definition in his chest, with perky little pink, water-wrinkled nipples poking skyward, just begging to be worshipped by his tongue and teeth.  And his cock; shit, it was even more impressive than he had imagined on someone smaller than him.  Smooth, large and thick, just waiting to be thoroughly suckled while he drove the boy into a state of delirium. The younger Taylor boy may have been shorter in stature, but when it came to what really counted, the good lord had definitely blessed him and now Brian was going to reap the benefits.

 

He forced his gaze upward to Justin's face, so peaceful and unsuspecting in its relaxed state.  Perfect button nose, delicate, gracefully-curved ears, absurdly-long eyelashes, and that mouth; that full, luscious mouth that just begged to be kissed and was so perfectly shaped for giving him head.  It was almost too much for him to contemplate and he couldn't wait to explore every delectable inch.

 

He was about four feet away when all of a sudden his left foot stepped on a sharp, jagged rock on the lake bed and he couldn't help the cry of pain that rose involuntarily from his lips.  His heart hammered in his chest as with dismay he noticed Justin's eyes pop open in startled surprise and he knew his task had suddenly become just a bit more challenging...

 


 

Justin's heart almost stopped and his eyes threatened to bulge out of his head as he heard a male voice cry out practically on top of him.  His body flushing a dark pink in instant realization as to who it was, he scissored his legs frantically until he could find the security of the lake bottom underneath before he turned around to stand face to face with a very wet, very bare-chested Brian.  The boy's hair was blowing rebelliously in the gentle breeze, his tanned skin sparkling with beads of water, and his chest was heaving lightly up and down as he stared over at him intently with those golden-green eyes.  God, he was magnificent!  Wondering what the handsome boy had on - or worse yet, didn't have on - Justin tried furiously to sound more assertive than he actually was as he growled, "You scared the shit out of me, Brian!  What the fuck are you doing here?"

 

The other boy had the gall to smirk back at him as he replied truthfully, "I was admiring the view."  His eyes slowly raked down Justin's face and then lower, moving toward his chest and then even more downward, making Justin feel like he could see straight through the water, even though he knew it was just murky enough to be impossible.

 

Justin had no doubt the boy's active imagination was working on overdrive at the moment, not that he had to imagine anything; after all, he had just seen ALL of him - at least the frontal part - in pure, unobstructed and unabashed glory.  He blushed profusely at the realization and crossed his arms over his chest protectively as he replied, "Well, the sightseeing tour is over, Brian.  And you're on private property.  So get out!"

 

Brian chuckled.  "No problem," he said.  "But are you sure you want me to do that?"  He proceeded to walk closer instead of heading back toward the bank as he told the younger boy in a stage whisper as if in mock horror, "I'm wearing my birthday suit, too, you know," emitting a sort of throaty, and decidedly sexy laugh that made Justin began to retreat from him, waving his hands in the water like oars to try and escape faster as he began to back away.

 

The impossibly blue eyes flashed over at Brian as Justin warned, "Stay away from me, Brian!  I'm warning you!"

 

Brian laughed even harder, thoroughly enjoying the fiery look on the blond's face and his show of bravado even in the midst of extremely uneven odds.  "Oh, you want to play tag?  Well, I used to love that game as a kid.  Okay, have it your way, then.  You're IT!"  he said with a smile as he began to advance confidently now, knowing it wouldn't be too long before he could capture Justin's body against his and taste the full, lush lips that were pursed so tightly together at the moment in righteous irritation before he spun him around and rammed his hot, hard cock into an ass he already knew was just perfect for that purpose.  He was getting closer and closer...just a few more seconds...His cock was throbbing painfully now...he was so damned ready...

 

To his surprise, Justin abruptly stopped backing away, even though he was continuing to walk toward him. Instead, he stood his ground, crossing his arms over his chest again as he told his pursuer quietly, "I'm nobody's second choice, Brian.  This is your last chance!"

 

Brian stopped momentarily to stare over at the blond spitfire in confusion; surely Justin knew he could never outrun him, so there was no hurry, even though he was finding his resistance very intriguing.  So why had he stopped, then?  Actually he didn't care WHAT the reason was; he HAD to have this boy now!  But his prey's words registered at last in his mind as he replied, "What the fuck are you talking about, Justin?"

 

"You heard me, Brian!" Justin fired back.  "I'm not going to be your consolation prize!  Go find some OTHER boy to fuck!  I'm sure that wouldn't be very hard."

 

Brian chuckled at the other boy's fiery impertinence.  He had NO idea just how 'hard' things were at the moment, but he would soon find out...Justin had to realize he was fighting a losing battle.  He always got whoever he wanted and the more Justin fought, the more he wanted HIM.  He found the younger boy's courage to stand his ground fascinating.  He once more began to confidently advance toward the blond, his cock, his whole body longing now for a taste of the beautiful boy who was finding some inner strength to combat him still, even in the face of what was a certainty.

 

"What if I want YOU?" Brian asked him in a sultry tone of voice as he continued to get ever closer; he wondered about the benefits of buoyancy in water while he and Justin fucked, the idea making his entire body thrum with anticipation.  He couldn't wait any longer; he had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted this boy right now.  How could he have been so blind? he thought, as he stared over at him.  Yes, Jared was hot:  confident, handsome, and cocky.  He was attractive in a smoldering, dark sort of way, and the guy knew it, too.  In fact, Brian was beginning to realize just how boring such predictability could be.  He was TOO much like himself.  But THIS beautiful boy - this one was unlike any boy he had ever been with.  This one had the gall to actually challenge him, to make him feel unsure of himself, Brian Kinney, the boy who always got any one he wanted; this one seemed to delight in tripping him up at every turn, always keeping him on his toes in spite of his obvious inexperience with sex.  Fuck, he was amazing!  Why hadn't he seen it before? To his astonishment, Justin actually smiled at his rhetorical question then. 

 

"Well, sorry, but I don't want YOU!"  Justin knew it was a bald-faced lie as soon as he said it, though; the boy practically dripped with desire for him, and with his chest all wet and rivulets of water flowing down from his bronze, god-like face to his flat stomach, Brian was breathtaking; at least he knew HE was struggling to breathe at the moment.  Just knowing the boy was completely nude from the waist down made his mouth go dry.  He was half-tempted to stop his plan from taking hold, but he just couldn't let this cocky bastard get away with thinking he was just a fish waiting to be caught at the end of his hook.

 

"I don't believe that for one second, Justin," Brian said, now almost within touching distance of the other boy.  He stared transfixed at the expressive blue eyes that were defiantly glaring back at him.   "You want me as much as I want you.  Why are you fighting me?  You wouldn't if you knew what I'm going to do when I catch you.  You want to know, don't you?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper now that they were so close.

 

Justin's eyes darkened in barely-concealed desire as Brian's lips turned upward into a look of triumph.  "First I'm going to kiss that look of indignation right off your face," he vowed as he got closer and closer.  Just a few more inches...almost there...


"Then I'm going to grab you and turn you around so fast your fucking head will spin at the pace," he growled, now almost able to feel Justin's satiny-looking skin under his touch.  "And then...then I'm going to ram my cock into your pretty little ass so hard that..."

 

He never got all the words out as, all of a sudden, he felt his feet give way beneath him as they came into contact with a break in the bottom of the lake bed and he found himself without any support underneath him; he was able to give Justin one quick look of stunned shock before he was unexpectedly pulled under into the deeper part of the lake; it took him several seconds to resurface, just long enough for Justin to scurry away, his legs and arms confidently cutting through the calm water as he swam toward the bank where he had first entered.

 

As Brian re-emerged on top of the surface, he spit out the large amount of water he had took in through his mouth as he looked around for Justin who had quickly disappeared; as he treaded over to a place where his feet finally touched the bottom again, he turned to observe his target now out of the water and peering over at him from behind a tree.  Even though he looked silly hiding his nude body from his sight, the boy still had the audacity to call out to him smugly, "I forgot to mention that there's a sharp fall-off over there."

 

Brian's face darkened in embarrassment. Once more the boy had proven to be quite unpredictable, but this time he wasn't finding it quite so amusing.  "What the hell?"

 

Justin shrugged.  "I told you I wasn't anyone's second choice, Brian," he reminded him, his hands wrapped tightly around either side of the tree's trunk like a shield of armor.

 

Brian forced a confident smile on his face as the cockiness returned.  "Well, I hope you brought some sunscreen with you, then, because your clothes seem to be missing.  I'd hate to see that hot little ass of yours get all red and sunburned.  You can always come back into the water with ME, though."  His eyes widened in dread, however, as Justin oddly grinned back at him, turning HIM into the uncomfortable one now. 

 

"That's okay," Justin told him matter-of-factly as he held up a familiar-looking pair of jeans and a pair of black sneakers.  "I found someone else's clothes conveniently hanging from that tree branch over there.  But don't worry; I'm sure you can always wear MY clothes home!"  Quickly slipping his shorter legs into the larger-sized jeans before rolling up the cuffs, Justin finally emerged from behind the tree as he slid his feet into the expensive sneakers.   He ignored the intoxicating scent of the other boy that still lingered on the shirt that was held in his hands as his face lost its smile and he told Brian with deadly calm, unable to hide the hurt and sadness evident in his voice, "Just because you let Jared fuck you doesn't mean that I'm going to let you fuck ME," before he quietly turned and walked away, leaving a speechless, older boy with his mouth agape in the water.

 

An ugly epiphany bloomed inside Brian as he realized exactly what Justin had meant, and his face contorted into fury.  It was time to have a little talk with Jared.

 

Chapter End Notes:

 

Sorry for the delay, but I decided to write a little more before posting this part.  I hope you'll agree it was worth the delay (wink, wink).  Been kind of quiet over here lately!  Hope you'll all still enjoying Brian's venture 'down on the farm,' though; thanks for reading.:) 

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