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Trailer Trash(79)

By:Marie Sexton


Saturday evening, Nate told his dad he was going to the dance with Stacy. Then, he picked up Cody from his shift at the Tomahawk as usual. Cody’s mom was gone for the night. Nate knew Cody would want to shower as soon as he got home. Sometimes, Nate showered with him, but tonight, he had other plans.

Once he could hear the shower running, he got to work. He started by pushing the furniture out of the way, as well as he could on his own. The couch would have to stay, but the coffee table and chair were easy enough to move. He had a bag full of candles he’d bought earlier that day. He set them up around the room, lit them all, then turned out the lights.

The effect wasn’t quite as romantic as he’d hoped in Cody’s dingy trailer, but it’d have to do.

The tape player he’d given Cody was already in the living room, and Nate was pleased to find the tape he’d made in it. He spent a while rewinding and fast-forwarding, trying to decide exactly which song to start with.

Which song should be playing when they danced together for the very first time?

Maybe it was silly. He had a feeling Cody would think so, at any rate. But after staring at Cody across the dance floor at homecoming, and seeing the buzz of excitement in the school leading up to the dance, Nate had found himself feeling uncharacteristically angry. He wanted to put on a dress shirt and pick Cody up at his house, like any other date. He wanted to walk into the school gym hand in hand, to stand in line for pictures, and—more than anything—to take Cody onto the dance floor when a slow song came on.

Of course, none of that was possible. Not here in Warren, Wyoming, at any rate. So Nate decided to settle for the next best thing.

“I knew you were up to something,” Cody said when he finally emerged, scrubbing a towel over his still-wet hair. He’d put on jeans, socks, and a clean T-shirt, but no shoes. “You were acting kind of goofy.”

Nate hit Play on the tape deck. He’d ended up on Madonna’s “Crazy for You,” more because he’d run out of time than because he’d actually chosen it. He held his hand out to Cody, his cheeks beginning to burn.

“Can I have this dance?”

Cody froze, the towel held to the side of his head, his eyes wide. “You’re kidding, right?”

At least he’d accurately anticipated Cody’s reaction. “It’s Valentine’s Day, and we can’t go to the dance.” He smiled. “Oh. And did I mention that tomorrow’s my birthday?”

“Shit.”

“And I know you didn’t buy me anything, and that’s fine. But I really want this. Please.”

Cody shook his head, grinning, and tossed the towel aside. “Not afraid to play dirty, are you?” Still, he hesitated, staring at Nate’s outstretched hand. “Never really done this before.”

“I know.”

Cody sighed. “This is stupid, Nate.” But he took Nate’s hand. He let Nate pull him close.

It was a pretty well-established fact that when dancing, boys put their arms around the girl’s waist, and girls put their arms around the guy’s neck. Nate had unwittingly taken the “guy” role. He wondered if he should have mentioned that first, maybe asked Cody his preference, but if Cody noticed or cared, he chose not to mention it. He simply put his arms around Nate’s neck.

And they danced.

It was perfect, as far as Nate was concerned. Far better than it would have been at the school, because there were no prying eyes. No chaperones to tell them they were dancing too close. There was just the two of them, and the candlelight, and the music. Nate held Cody tight, smelling the clean, shampoo scent of his freshly washed hair, letting his hands wander slowly over Cody’s slender body as one song became two, and two became three.

And the best part of all was the way Cody reacted.

They’d fooled around enough since Christmas for Nate to recognize Cody’s arousal, and not just because of his erection brushing against Nate’s as they moved. Cody’s breathing became shallow and ragged. He shivered as Nate’s hand moved up the curve of his spine. He whimpered when Nate lowered his mouth to Cody’s throat, letting lips and tongue play over his pounding pulse. And when Nate pulled back enough to see Cody’s face in the flickering light, he could see the need he’d kindled in Cody, as much by accident as by design.

“Still think this is stupid?” Nate asked.

Cody moaned in frustration, practically melting against him, guiding Nate’s lips to his own. “God, yes.”

One little kiss, and Cody was clutching at him, struggling toward the couch, his desperation making him clumsy and impatient. Nate barely had time to lower him onto the couch, to unzip Cody’s pants and slip his hand inside before Cody was gasping, arching into him, crying out as he came.