Preview: Straight Town (Chapter 1)

This is a new story I've been working on, at the request of someone who has been very, very patient with me, as I work out the kinks of my personal life, and of this story in particular. This first chapter is largely setup, but I hope to have a new installment every other week or so--or maybe more! We'll see! From the title, you can probably guess that there will be some gay to straight content in here, but it might not head in the directions you think! In any case, if that turns you off badly, I'd suggest you skip this one.

*~*~*

“Do you ever think about how much easier it would be if we were straight?”

“What? Eww, no.”

“No, I mean, come on--just entertain it for a second.”

Kevin looked out the window of the car at the prairie around them as they drove down the two lane highway, and figured he had nothing else to do except entertain it, for Steven’s sake. “Fine, so I’m straight. Now why is this so great again?”

“I mean, don’t you get tired, sometimes?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and go back in the closet, because it’s a bit too late for that.”

“No, I mean...Look, maybe it would be different, if I’d grown up where you did, but where I’m from, anyone who was a faggot--who everyone decided was a faggot--fuck, a kid killed himself when I was a sophomore, because a bunch of kids humiliated him at school enough, and...I don’t know...”

Kevin sat up and looked over at Steve, who was driving, their car. They’d decided to take a week after college was out and drive across the country--well, it was Steve’s idea, really, and Kevin thought he loved the guy enough to give being cooped up in a little sedan with him a shot. But after a few days of this, he was beginning to wonder if this was really, well, if Steve was ready for this. “I mean, I was out in high school, sure, but that didn’t make it easy, trust me. Even in a liberal neighborhood like mine--or at least a place that thought it was--there’s plenty of assholes everywhere. I’m sorry about that kid though...did you know him well?”

“No way, if you got anywhere near him, people figured you were gay too.”

“And that’s the kind of person you want to be?”

“I don’t want to--I’m just saying, don’t you wish you were normal? That everything could just be easy for you? Maybe it’s easier for you, but going home, keeping everything pent up inside me, it just makes me want to scream a bit, you know? I’m just so terrified, all the fucking time, of my dad, of my brothers, of everyone. I’m supposed to be this big manly football jock, pride of the whole damn town, and when they find out...fuck, I don’t want to know what they’ll do.”

“So tell them.”

“That’s easier to say than to do, trust me.”

“It’s not easy, for anyone, I don’t think. My mom still talks about how she’s going to have grandkids, and I don’t know how to break it to her that she’s not going to have the little scamps running around when she gets older.”

“Wait, you...don’t want kids?”

“And you do?”

“I mean...I mean, yeah, I...just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t have kids.”

“Of course it doesn’t, but why the fuck would you want them? They’re little nightmare monsters, tiny gremlins that ruin lives. No more parties when you have to stay home changing diapers. Besides, the fucking planet is dying, and no one is doing shit about that. You really want to have a kid, and try and explain to them that they’re probably going to be growing up into some fucking wasteland.”

“It...I mean...” Steve went quiet, his brow furrowed, and while Kevin knew he was right, he couldn’t help but sense that, from Steve’s perspective, he had crossed a line somewhere. He looked back out the window, and saw a sign pass them by, letting them know that they were coming up on a small town, the name of which Kevin didn’t care enough about to try and remember. They all started looking the same, at some point. He’d imagined that this would give him some perspective, but if anything, it all just felt...flatter. Every town was dying, every person looked miserable, every woman seemed to have five kids surrounding her, no matter how young she looked. He just wanted to get to a city again, feel...something vibrant--more vibrant that this dismal bullshit flatness of the country’s great middle. He just felt sorry for them. He knew about the problems there, he read the news, but where Steve seemed to breathe a little deeper around here, Kevin just wanted to be gone, and he wanted out of this car, and increasingly, he was beginning to think that he wanted out of this relationship, more than anything else. Sure, Steven was sexy, and dating and fucking a football player checked a lot of his high school boxes, but maybe they were just...too different to have a future together.

“Isn’t having kids a reason to do right by them?” Steve said, after a pause.

“It is, but most people don’t,” Kevin said, “Kids are accessories, and tools, and--hell, why are we even talking about this?”

“It’s about the future, Kevin.”

“It’s their future, not ours,” Kevin said, “Even if we have kids, even if we act straight, and pass, and you coach football camp, and I’m on the church council, and even if we do everything we can to be normal, to fit that future--there’s still no room for us. There has to be something else. We have to make something else, if we’re going to find a home anywhere.”

“That...sounds exhausting.”

“That’s because it is. But it’s still easier than trying to fit into their box, because you can never do that, no matter how they pitch it.”

Steve looked away from the road for a moment, over at Kevin in his flannel shirt and jeans. He looked uncomfortable. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, with Steve or without. Did he want kids himself? It had been such a key part of his life for so long, the older brother with three younger siblings, he had thought for so long that of course he would. He had to--that’s what you did. But figuring out he was gay, going to college, there were so many things he didn’t have to assume anymore--and that was harder than anything. Steve didn’t really know if he did want kids or not, but he felt...obligated to defend them all the same, after listening to Kevin. He hated that. He hated how he felt like...a reaction to him, to everyone. His parents wanted him to be one thing, and Kevin...Kevin wanted him to be something else, something just as difficult, in its own way. What if he didn’t want to change? What if he just wanted to be himself, instead of being someone that someone else wanted him to be? It was confusing, and frustrating, and he didn’t think that Kevin understood any of it. As far as Kevin was concerned, Steve should be happy to be out of the place he grew up. Now he could be Gay--Properly Gay-- Gay In All The Best Ways. His past was something to be corrected. At best, his heritage--his slight twang, his boot cut jeans, his love of the rodeo--could only be warped and turned into drag. A costume. A masculinity he could wear for the enjoyment of others.

It was getting late, the sun slipping into the golden hour, as they passed the first few rundown farm houses and trailers of the small town they were entering. “We should find somewhere to eat--I’m getting hungry.”

“Fine, but we’re not staying here tonight, this place creeps me the fuck out.”

“You say that about every town smaller than 500 people.”

“Yeah, because you gotta be a little creepy to think this is a normal way to live.”

Steve bit his tongue, and turned onto the town’s Main Street. A general store, a gas station, a tavern, a few other small shops with more dedicated purposes. There were people out and about in the evening, doing a bit of shopping. There were a surprising number of kids, and everyone seemed...happy, for the most part, but Steve knew all to well that the happiness was more shallow than they would ever let on, especially with a stranger. 

“Looks like there’s a tavern, and...the tavern,” Steve said, as they drove down the street.

“Oh yay, another tavern, I’m sure it will have the same shitty beer and bad bar food as the last several. Maybe they’ll even have a special tonight,” he sighed as Steve parked, “I just want one cocktail. Not some manly fucking thing like an old fashioned, something dainty and sweet and electric blue.”

“We’ll hit Chicago tomorrow probably, and we’ll get you hooked up, don’t worry.”

“Thank god, civilization.”

“It isn’t that bad out here, you know.”

“That’s just the Stockholm Syndrome talking, I think.”

They got out of the car and walked back towards the tavern, along the cracked and weedy sidewalk. “You know, if you hate it that much, why did you come along?”

“Because I thought we’d be taking the Interstates.”

“And miss everything?”

“Yes--and miss all of this,” Kevin said, “Look, I know you want to defend it, I get it, but none of these people would defend you--you know that, right? They’d all happily run us out of town, if not throw us in jail, if they thought we were a couple of faggots.”

“They aren’t all bad, Kevin, and there are faggots out here too. Ones who can’t get out.”

Kevin shrugged. “Guess they should try harder then.”

“You’re such a fucking piece of shit sometimes.”

“So what? I mean it.”

Steve grumbled something under his breath as they stepped into the tavern. It was, really, a rearranged version of the same tavern they’d been in the last few towns they’d stopped over in. Neon beer signs all around, only domestic brands, naturally. A pool table and/or pair of dart boards, depending on space and local preference. Two TV’s, both of them tuned to different sports channels, and both of them playing a bit too loud. A cluster of older men around the bar, chatting with each other and with the bartender, who eyed them as they stepped inside and took a seat at a booth along the wall. He seemed...suspicious, but that was the same look too, that they always got in places like this.

“Hey boys, haven’t seen you around here. Passing through?” the young waitress said as she came up to the table, and set down a pair of coasters, and some menus. “Can I get you a couple of beers?” It was clear that she was dressed to impress the men who came in here, with his shirt tied up, exposing her midriff, and accenting her breasts. Kevin wondered if he should stare at them or not--he’d never really known what to do around women.

“Sure thing,” Steve said, putting on his twang, and Kevin bit his tongue. He always got quiet in these places, a bit too nervous. He wasn’t really used to acting, like Steve was.

She nodded, and went back behind the bar to get their beers, and Steve and Kevin saw that their entrance had attracted the eyes of the rest of the men at the bar, and one man, in particular, seemed very excited to see them. He was an older gentleman, probably around fifty or so, and he got up from his stool and walked over to them, grinning. “Howdy fellas, as mayor, I’d like to welcome ya to Derryville. Roger Derry is the same--if you need anything while you’re here, you let me know, ya hear?” he grinned, and when the waitress came back with their beers, he pulled her close to him, around the waist, and she yelped a bit. “Candy, you treat these two boys real nice, right? And you two, Candy here sure could use a strapping fella like one of you to settle down with--if ya feel like staying!” he guffawed at that, and no one else laughed--not even the other men at the bar. Roger looked from Candy, over at the two men, and saw that neither of them seemed particularly interested in his suggestion, and with a curious expression, excused himself, and Candy took their orders off the menu, and took them back to the kitchen.

Over at the bar, Roger kept sneaking glances at the two of them, and neither Steve nor Kevin wanted to try and figure out what he was mulling over. He didn’t seem...angry, or disgusted. Just...like he was thinking hard, like something had gone...screwy, but neither of them knew what it could be. Candy seemed relieved, a bit, when she brought out their food--maybe she’d become a bit too accustomed to men toying with her during her shift. Around the time their food came, Roger excused himself and left the restaurant, giving the two young men one last glance before he left.

Kevin and Steve decided to eat as quick as they could and get out of town before the mayor decided to do something about, well, whatever he was thinking about the two of them, they didn’t really want to know. They hadn’t seen an inn anywhere in town, which while a bit odd, just encouraged them to get a move on and find a motel a little further on where they could stay instead. The meal went find however, the rest of the men gave them no issue--though from the yelps, Candy got a fair share of slaps on her ass from them as she served them at the bar. Neither Kevin nor Steve really knew what to do about it, so they just ignored it--it wasn’t their problem, right? They finished their meals, left enough cash to cover it and a generous tip for Candy, and then decided to leave--the mayor hadn’t shown up yet, so maybe they’d make it out without a problem--if they were quick.

“Hold on, I just gotta piss,” Kevin said.

“Seriously?”

“I’ll be quick, alright?”

“You’re never quick. I just want to get back on the road.”

“Well, unless you want me pissing on the seats, you can wait a couple of minutes.”

Steve sighed, and Kevin hustled off to the back of the bar and into the men’s room, leaving Steve alone by the door--just as the mayor returned, naturally. Steve didn’t want to engage with him, but before he could say anything, he saw who the mayor had walking with him, and his jaw dropped. As much as he loved Kevin--and Steve did suspect he loved him--Kevin had never really been Steve’s type. In his heart, he always kind of longed for the sort of guy he’d grown up with--in particular, one of his cousins, tough enough to put him in a head lock, but there had been that one time, when they got drunk of his uncle’s moonshine, and his cousin had sucked him off, and...and fuck, if his cousin’s spitting image didn’t strut in the door that second--or almost his cousin.

His build was a little smaller, his frame a bit lighter. He didn’t...exude masculinity like his cousin had. He was a guy, but...but in other ways, he wasn’t. Steve didn’t really know how to process that, in his mind, but the resemblance was keen enough that his cock didn’t care--it was rock hard, and the young fellow...was looking right at it.

“Ah good, I caught ya before ya could jet off again--guess I didn’t have to slash those tires after all,” the mayor said. “Now--I think you said your name was Steve, right?”

Steve nodded. He couldn’t recall giving the mayor his name, but he was right.

“Now, I think you and Christian ought to get to know each other a bit better--Christian, why don’t you take Steve back home with you, where you two can get more comfortable. I’ll be by a bit later to help out.”

Christian...looked resigned, and a bit scared. Steve saw that, but it wasn’t enough for him to really feel that...concerned. Mostly he was just horny, and it was clear that Christian wanted him--he could...smell it, or know it, or something. Maybe he just wanted it enough for both of them, but Christian took his hand and led him out of the tavern, the rest of the men just watching in silence, while the mayor beamed in delight. “So nice, getting some new blood in here. It’s been getting a bit stale. Now, where’s the other one?” he asked the men at the bar, and one of them, after a moment, replied, “He’s in the bathroom, Roger.”

“Ah, good. Send him out here when he’s done, would you?”

“Sure...Sure thing.”

The mayor looked at the line of somewhat grim faces at the bar, and shook his head. “Come on now men, buck up! The more the merrier, right? Don’t ya want what’s best for this town? That’s why ya elected me mayor--don’t forget. Mayor for life, as long as we keep the contract going strong. Haven’t I given you everything you asked for?”

One of the men hocked a wad of tobacco spit into a spittoon on the floor, by the barstool, “Not everyone here now was around tah have a vote in it,” he said.

“Well, we all have to abide by the rules where we reside. This is, after all, a society,” Roger said. “Send the boy out when he’s done.”

Roger stepped back out of the tavern, and a minute later, Kevin emerged from the bathroom, shaking his drying hands--it had not been pretty in there, but he’d had to go. He looked around the bar, but didn’t see Steve anywhere by the booth where they’d been sitting, or by the door--but every man at the bar was staring directly at him. Before Kevin could say anything, one of them got up, hocked a wad of spit on the floor, and stomped over towards him. “Now listen here, faggot,” the man said, “You need to get the fuck out of this fuckin’ town--and you need to go right fuckin’ now.”

It wasn’t the first time someone had called him names in his life, but Kevin could sense that something about this guy was different. The words...didn’t really feel angry, or hateful. The big redneck sounded scared, more than anything else. “Trust me, I have no interest in staying. Where’s my friend.”

“Forget about him--fucking listen to me. You have to get out of here. It’s too fucking late for him, but you can still get the hell out of here, if you leave now. Not out the front, he’s waiting out there, go out the back. Don’t go for the car, just run North as fast as you can, follow the road outside. It’s the closest distance to the city limits. Get the fuck out of here, and never fucking come back, you hear me?”

“What--what the fuck did you do to Steve?”

“It wasn’t us--now fucking run!” the man said, and gave Kevin a shove back behind the bar. The bartender motioned towards the backdoor, through the kitchen, and not really understanding what the deal was with this place, he left--he had to find Steve, and then he would get the hell out of here for sure--these people were nuts. He’d just duck out the back, get out, and go find Steve--probably waiting for him at the car, ready to get the hell out of here as well. He got out of the door, and found himself in an alleyway with a couple of dumpsters and not much else. He turned to loop back around the building, but found that he wasn’t alone.

A young man, not much older than he was probably, was standing next to a motorcycle. He looked dusty and sweaty, like he had spent the day on the road, and just got back into town for a drink. He looked over at Kevin, and the look...fuck, Kevin was rock hard in an instant, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. The guy wasn’t...not his type, but there was also something a bit off about him, like he wasn’t quite who he appeared to be. The way he walked, the way his hips seemed to sway, even the sizable bulge in the front of his jeans didn’t quite...sit right. 

“Sigh, I figured as much. They told you to come out the back, didn’t they?”

It wasn’t the young man speaking, but a familiar voice behind him. Kevin looked back, and saw Roger, the mayor, come around the corner of the building. “You...where did...” Kevin looked back, and lost his words as soon as he saw the young biker again. He was coming closer, and before Kevin could do anything, he had his arms around Kevin’s shoulders and was kissing him--and Kevin found himself kissing back, tasting the sun, and the wind, and the oil and gas, and...and so much else. It tasted like freedom, and rebellion, and so many things he’d wanted, but never known how to articulate.

“You wanted to ask something?” Roger asked again, but Kevin didn’t say anything--he was too lost in the young man’s kiss. “It you’re wondering where that other boy got off to, don’t worry--he’s doing just fine. You’ll be doing just fine here too--Mike, why don’t you offer Kevin here a ride? Take him over to your place, get...comfortable. I’ll be by in a little while to help the two of you get adjusted properly.”

Mike sighed, but did as the mayor told him. Led Kevin over to the bike, and together, they rode off, Kevin behind him, grinding his cock into Mike’s ass, overwhelmed with a lust he could neither explain, nor deny. As they turned down Main Street, he swore he saw Steve being pulled along by...someone, but he didn’t have a chance to do anything about it, as the stranger headed for the edge of town.

Roger gave his knuckles a crack back behind the bar, and ducked into the tavern, where the men were all sitting in silence. “Alright, which one of you thinks he’s a smartass?”

None of the men said anything--but no one gave up the fellow who had told Kevin to go out the back either.

“You know,” Roger continued, when it was clear he wasn’t going to get an answer, “It isn’t easy, keeping things growing around here. Twenty years ago, this place was on death’s door--now look at it! Families on every corner, children all over the place--there’s not a town in America that doesn’t wish it had it as good as you do. Now I know that my methods rankle some of you in the community, but this is what ya’ll wished for.”

“Some of us,” one of the men said. “If yer really so confident, maybe you should have another vote.”

“Now, now, Mayor for life. That was the deal. Don’t get in my way again--you know how I feel about people getting in the way of progress.”

With that, Roger stepped back out onto the sidewalk and headed in the direction Steve had gone with Christian, whisting as he walked, saying hi to each person he passed my name, and spending extra time with the kids. So many happy children! It gave him such energy, seeing them all running around, happy. There’d be even more tomorrow. Two in one day--five in this year so far! They were bigger now, bigger every time. It had taken a lot of work, a lot of failure too, off and on, but Roger had done it. He’d turned this dead little town right around. So what if a few fucks didn’t like it? He knew what was best--he always had. That’s why he was mayor after all--that, and a few tricks up his sleeve.