This story includes no actual sex (I know, sad faces all around), and clocks in 489 words.❤
Clay couldn’t quite dislodge his boot from the tight crack in the red rocks and ended up slipping his foot out. The dusty ground was hot as he wrestled with the boot, rocking it back and forth, back and forth. He gave up after a while and sat down heavily in the dirt, staring up into the deep blue sky, tears rolling down his cheeks. It was a fine damn thing being here all alone, trying to pretend that he could do things like this alone.
Henry would have already yanked the rocks apart with his sheer muscle, the same muscle that held Clay tight in the dark long nights. It was back to being the skinny, helpless freak for Clay.
A shadow fell across him, bringing a welcome coolness with it. “You OK. there buddy?” a deep voice asked.
Clay craned his neck, looking up at the large man. He had a thick shiny mustache, chocolate brown eyes and a massive cattleman-style cowboy hat. Clay wiped his tears away quickly, apprehensive. Perhaps this would be the day he died. Country people weren’t exactly welcoming to his kind. Not something he’d ever had to worry about with Henry on his arm. “I’ve just gotten my boot stuck here, sir.”
The man came down to Clay’s level. “You can call me Lewis, and you look like you’ve got more problems than just this boot. Anything I can help with?” Lewis gave one of the rocks a good wiggle and yank, uprooting it like a tooth out of a gum. He seemed friendly enough, not menacing, despite his size.
“I doubt it,” Clay mumbled, cheeks burning. He wasn’t likely to find someone to replace Henry. All those years, all those memories, so hard to forget. “My boyfriend just broke up with me.”
Lewis looked at him curiously, holding out the boot for Clay to take. “Really.”
“Really, truly.” Clay pulled his boot back on with a sigh. “I shit you not.”
Lewis leaned in close, bulky hand resting on Clay’s knee, squeezing slow and even. “Do you need help getting back to your cabin?”
“What kind of help are we talking about? Do you have a car?” Clay looked up into his face, trying decide quickly if he liked the mustache.
The mustache twitched as Lewis shook his head and smiled, showing a row of straight teeth. “But I can carry you back.”
“And then?” Clay shivered involuntarily, biting his bottom lip. He liked the mustache.
“Then I figure you’ll need some rest, and I’ll need some rest.” Lewis smiled wider yet, face getting closer and closer until Clay could feel his breath washing over his skin.
Clay let his eyelids droop, angling his chin up, waiting. Lewis took the cue, kissing Clay tenderly.
“I think I just developed amnesia,” Clay whispered after he broke the kiss, grabbing one of Lewis’s strong arms. “You’ll definitely have to help me back now.”
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