Dale first saw the boy waiting for a bus. He might never have noticed him if he hadn’t felt eyes on the back of his neck while he was building. Dale looked around the whole site, wondering who had time to just stand around gawking. Everyone else was doing their work, and Dale thought it mighta just been someone walking over his grave, but then he saw him just beyond the fence, sitting sideways on the bench and watching the construction. Or at least that’s what Dale thought at first, that the kid was just looking around. But after a couple of weeks, it became obvious that it wasn’t the beehive activity the boy was watching – it was Dale alone.
He might have been anywhere from 15 to 20 years old, there were a lot of conflicting signs. He was small, skinny and short, but he was taking the real bus instead of a school bus, and he was always reading a book bigger than his own head. College, he figured, but still inappropriately young for Dale, who would turn 50 next year. But there was no mistaking what kind of attention this was. After a while, the kid even quit being so startled and held Dale’s gaze for a little longer each day. It finally got to the point that Dale did something about it.
One Friday he took his smoke break a little early and went to sit on the bench for a cigarette before the kid ever arrived. Dale could feel him coming for a mile, it was that same blazing feeling like how the sun came through one side of his truck in the morning, striking and heating only half of him.
The kid sat down a careful distance from Dale, not too far like he might fall off the edge, but not too close either. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, with a big hardback book pressing the front of his shins like armour. He’d never done that before, curled up so defensively. Dale knew he would have to be the first to talk.
‘Mind me asking what you’re readin’ there?’ He didn’t turn to the boy, only put his left arm over the back of the bench, opening up his body language a bit.
The boy responded by pivoting his whole body from noon to about 12.10 and said, ‘It’s about people during the Easter Rebellion.’
‘Hmm,’ Dale said. He had no idea what that was, but he did spot that the cover had two half-naked guys on it before it was hidden in this kid’s clutch. ‘Is it for a class or something?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I work at a bookstore up the street.’ After a fast sideways glance, the kid added, ‘You know Purple Prose?’
‘Yeah, I do,’ Dale said. It was the gay bookstore, and they were on the same page now. ‘You know, if you aren’t busy later, I know a good place for a drink.’
‘I’m not old enough,’ the kid said warningly, now looking him in eye. ‘I’m only 19.’
‘That’s old enough to get a drink at my house,’ Dale said. Anything above 18 didn’t bother Dale.
‘‘Kay,’ he said. ‘Can I get your address?’
‘I’d pick you up here, if you like. I get off at seven.’
‘OK. But I still want the address to give to my roommate, in case I don’t come back.’
‘That’s smart, I guess. Here,’ Dale said as he fished for his wallet. ‘I’ll even show you my license, so you know it’s not a fake address.’
The kid looked down and smiled sort of secretly, and it was nice to finally see him smile. He looked a little moody, all cramped and nervous like he was, with his too-long hair hanging in his face like dark curtains. He took the ID, quickly copied the address on the inside of the book in light pencil – probably so he could erase it later – and handed it back.
‘Seven?’ the boy asked.
Dale nodded and held out his hand for an introduction at last. ‘I’m Dale,’ he said.
‘I saw,’ the boy said, taking his hand in one of the softest handshakes Dale had ever gotten. It was like crossing the street with one of his nieces and holding hands for safety. ‘I’m Marley.’
At a little past 6.45, Marley arrived at the bus stop again, this time disembarking to wait. He understood enough to hang back until most of the other men had gone home, and then followed Dale to his truck without being too overt. It was getting pretty dark anyway, so the chance of anyone seeing him leave with this boy was pretty slim.
Dale didn’t care that much what people saw, but he was careful not to be obvious. It really rubbed some people up the wrong way, and a lot of those “some people” also worked in construction, and were employers and even friends of Dale’s. It surprised him a little, actually, that Marley was so discreet. Dale was under the impression that kids nowadays were all loud and proud, and while he didn’t seem ashamed, Marley was very quiet.
Literally, even. The drive to Dale’s place wasn’t short, he lived all the way across Fort Myers from this job, but Marley didn’t say much the whole time. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, but he didn’t feel the need to make small talk or ask any questions about Dale. All he wanted to know was if Dale minded him messing with the radio.
‘Go ahead,’ Dale said.
Marley tucked his hair behind both ears, undid his seatbelt and moved to sit right in front of the dials. It meant that he was close enough to Dale to brush against him, and Dale appreciated that. It seemed like sort of a classy way to initiate a hook-up.
When they got to Dale’s house, he was surprised again that Marley wanted a real drink and not just a beer. He made the boy and Jack and Coke while making himself a Jack and ice and let Marley choose his own seat before Dale sat down. Marley took the chair, so it was clear to Dale that they would work their way back up to contact as he sat on the sofa.
He sipped his drink and watched Marley look around his living room, wondering what kind of impression it gave. There were a couple of buck heads on the wall, his hunting knives on display, and a porch swing his brother gave him after the divorce in the window alcove. Most people would have commented on that thing being inside rather than outside on a porch or something, but Marley only passed his eyes over it, as well as all the rest of the room. The second-hand furniture, the wood-carving projects on his dining room table, the gumball machine in the corner for when Dale’s brother would come by with the girls on the weekend. Marley only took little gulps of his drink as he established the room. When he finally set down his empty glass, he looked to Dale at last.
Marley smiled a little before getting up and joining Dale on the couch. He sat on Dale’s left side, nearly in his lap, and put his hand up on Dale’s shoulder. He inhaled a really deep breath, so deep it shook a little at the end, and Dale was close enough to notice the kid’s green-muddy eyes dilate pleasurably. How could he possibly like what he was seeing so genuinely? Dale was a ropey old man with greying stubble, smoke-yellowed teeth, and a farmer’s tan from working outside his whole life. He wondered if there wasn’t something wrong with Marley, but he wasn’t going to ask and ruin the moment. Everyone’s got a type, he supposed.
Dale set his own glass down and laid a hand just above Marley’s knee. He kissed the kid’s neck and felt Marley’s hand squeeze tighter on his shoulder before letting go and grabbing both of Dale’s wrists.
He wouldn’t be strong enough to move Dale against his will, but Dale let himself be manipulated. Marley put Dale’s hands on the back of the couch, and straddled his lap so quickly that Dale didn’t have time to wonder if the kid was chickening out.
‘Don’t touch me ‘til I say so, OK?’ Marley said to him quietly. Dale nodded, curious and starting to get really turned on by the weight of the boy in his lap.
Marley ran his hands up Dale’s chest, first over his shirt, and then under it. Dale wondered if he shouldn’t have planned this better, found a way to get a shower in after a long day in the sun, but Marley didn’t appear to mind. He nodded to indicate that Dale should take off his shirt, and reveal his bony, pale chest covered in hair. Marley dragged his nails lightly back down and rested his hands over where their crotches met.
Marley unbuttoned his own jeans, and Dale forgot for a second that he was asked to keep his hands to himself, and tried to reach for the zipper.
‘Wait, wait,’ Marley said, breathless. He looked nervous or scared or something, and Dale didn’t want that. He tucked both his hands between the cushions of the couch so he wouldn’t be tempted again. Marley nodded in thanks, and then took the open edges of his overshirt between his fingers. Here he hesitated. Dale didn’t know why, it had to be hot in that thing. They were both a little flushed between the liquor and this game Marley had.
‘I have something to show you,’ Marley said. ‘I hope it doesn’t freak you out.’
Dale didn’t know what could possibly bother him about a guy taking his shirt off – what could he have, a birthmark? Freaky tattoos? Open heart surgery scars? Marley stripped off the long sleeved shirt, and peeled the undershirt off too, but Dale couldn’t see anything wrong with him except that he was too skinny. But Marley looked down at his arms, and Dale saw what he meant.
One arm had a bunch of little scratches on it, like neat little cat claws. The other one, Marley’s right arm, had one really long, horrible scar like he’d put his fist through a window and gotten unlucky against a shard. It had healed unevenly and was thick enough to feel with your eyes closed. Dale thought maybe Marley had been in a car accident, but that only explained one arm and not the other, and also not why he seemed so embarrassed by them. Probably he had done all of it to himself.
‘Is there something wrong with you?’ Dale asked. If he was one of those people with emotional issues, then Dale was surprised. Marley was different from what Dale imagined crazy people to be.
He shrugged in answer to Dale’s question, like he couldn’t say for sure. ‘Does it bother you?’
Dale couldn’t see why it should have to. He shook his head, and then asked, ‘Am I allowed to touch you now?’
‘If you still want to, yeah.’
Dale smiled encouragingly as he slid his hands up from Marley’s knees to his hips. He sure did still want to; why not?
Dale got to finish opening up Marley’s pants, finally, got to jerk him as Marley laid wet traces with his tongue across Dale’s shoulders and face. By the time Marley kissed his mouth they were both hard, and Dale hadn’t even unbuttoned yet. When Marley wrapped his arms around Dale’s neck and asked, ‘You got a bedroom?’ Dale didn’t hesitate to pick him up and take him there.
They got to fucking pretty quick once they were in Dale’s room. Nothing to really distract them in there, not even a mirror, just a set of dresser drawers and a bed that Dale still made every morning like he had to growing up. They never bothered to get under the sheets, but only flipped around on top of the bedspread, first with Dale sitting on the edge of the bed and having Marley ride him – the boy’s little licks turned into biting, soft nips across Dale’s shoulders and jaw – and ending with Marley on his back, bracing himself against the headboard as Dale drove into him.
Dale started out trying to be gentle, thinking Marley looked a little too brittle for a grown man’s passion, but Dale escalated slowly and got only encouragement with every step. Marley would either grasp him tighter, or nod against his neck, or else let out small whimpers of assent that made Dale move with even more enthusiasm.
His one and only concern was that he wouldn’t last as long as a kid this young, but when sweat started dripping from Dale onto Marley’s chest, Marley pushed Dale back far enough to snake his hand between them and said, ‘Watch me.’
Dale wouldn’t have dreamed of looking away. Marley’s lips were flushed, and he had the lower one between his teeth. His own eyes were closed, but he could probably feel Dale watching him as easily as Dale had felt his first gaze nearly three weeks ago. When Marley came, Dale could feel it convulse through the boy’s whole body. Dale tried to keep going through the whole thing, but near the end he pulled out, stripped off the condom, and finished over the top of him.
They laid there quiet for a while before Dale offered Marley the use of his shower. Marley was in and out of the bathroom in under five minutes, hardly long enough for Dale to feel like getting up from his bed. But he got up and met Marley coming back out into the hall, wrapped in a towel.
‘You’re welcome to stay the night,’ Dale told him.
‘I can make us more drinks, maybe order in a pizza.’
Marley smiled some as he raked his fingers through his hair. Wet, it was a little longer and covered his collarbone.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Mind if I call my friend, let her know I’m staying?’
‘Since I don’t want her filing a missing person’s report, yeah – you better go ahead.’ Marley smiled a little wider and went out into the living room for his clothes.
When Dale finished rinsing off and putting on some fresh clothes from his room, he went out to find Marley on the kitchen phone, sitting up on the counter and twirling the phone cord in his fingers. He had on a real smile for whoever he was talking to, and was even laughing and joking before he spotted Dale standing in the hall. Dale wouldn’t have pegged Marley for someone who giggled if he hadn’t heard it for himself, but the sight of Dale sort of sobered Marley again, and he excused himself from his friend and hung up.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘She’s always ragging on me for my taste in men.’
‘What’s that?’ Dale asked. ‘Older men?’
‘Mostly. I hope that doesn’t offend you.’
‘Not at all,’ Dale said. ‘It’s my lucky day.’
Marley’s mouth twitched, a flinch of a smile. Dale wondered what the difference was with his friend, what made him loosen up so quickly. Dale lit a cigarette and watched as Marley sat down at his dining table and started examining Dale’s projects. Dale was in the middle of carving a duck with a hidden compartment, and two wooden flowers for his nieces. Marley was careful not to touch anything, though they weren’t that delicate. He was mostly an observer, this kid. A passenger rather than a participant.
‘How ‘bout I order that pizza,’ Dale said, taking the wheel. ‘And you can make us another drink.’