“Why?” Kabe breathed the question hot against my chin.
“‘Cause I don’t want you to accidentally rip my dick off.”
Kabe gave me a squeeze on my prick before he did like I asked. Then I shifted us. Weren’t easy, I knocked him once in the wrong place, not hard, but enough that Kabe shuddered. We almost went over backwards with all that squirming, but, well, two rock junkies, between us we balanced enough so’s not to dump us and the chair on the floor. Finally managed so that he lay back in the recliner and I lay up on top of him. Then it was all about getting our pants and shorts shoved down enough to get some contact.
I pushed myself up against him. Both of us groaned when flesh touched flesh. Kabe’s fingers traced my ribs up under my t-shirt. A little ball of lightning flowed in the wake of his touch. His fingers drifted lower, teasing my belly. I wanted to taste him. I worked my tongue between his lips again. It was so good exploring like this, slow and easy and all kinds of wonderful. As Kabe’s fingers curled around my dick, I stroked him up as well. Soft, warm skin slid between my fingers. And whatever he’d used was still all slick on him.
I pushed Kabe’s hand away. He let go, moving his grip up into the buzz-cut of my hair, and pulled my mouth tight against his own. I started humping, using the lube already on Kabe to keep us both greased up. Had to yank my undershirt up some, darn thing kept getting in the way. Then there it was, dicks sandwiched between bellies and each other. Slid my hand ‘round underneath him and grabbed at his butt, half covered in his shorts and half bare skin. I squeezed it and squeezed it hard, pulling his hips up against mine.
Our pricks slid together. Rubbing all in like two snakes twisting around about each other. Every so often, his head would poke up into my abs or my balls got all smashed up against his shaft. My knees barely clung to the lip of the seat on either side of his thighs, and my feet, even with the toe of my left boot touching the floor, didn’t have nowhere to get any real purchase.
Awkward didn’t half describe the position we was in. Every time we moved the chair threatened to give way, creaking and shifting. Made it all sorts of fun actually. This crazy game of balance enough so’s to not fall off and still move enough to get off.
The heat of Kabe’s cock rubbing against mine drilled through my senses. Everything all mixed up, sweat and pre-cum and lube between us, ramped the friction up to insane. I felt Kabe’s fingers tighten against my skull. His head jerked back as he sucked in ragged breaths. I bit his neck, right on the side. Kabe yelled out, “Joe!” His body jerked and twisted as he blew. Liquid fire ran all over my own dick and skin as he shuddered on through it.
Now it was my turn. I kept thrusting up against him. Lord, I couldn’t believe how warm that boy’s cum felt. The smell of it, all musty and thick, mixed in with my sweat and ratcheted up the blood pounding through my dick. I bit him again, this time on his collar so’s my teeth scraped bone. Pulled his hands off me and down. I pressed his forearms into the seat, kinda lifting myself up, just a tiny bit.
Something about his flesh between my teeth and his body all pinned under my weight…made the skin all over my frame feel about half an inch too tight. He was like this thing that I owned, a toy or something, but one that moved and writhed and groaned. It set my senses on fire.
Those hot chills started, the kind that made my muscles twitch. Felt it building up in my balls. I rolled my head down, jammed my chin into my chest and my forehead into Kabe’s neck. Like a madman, I shoved my dick against his slick belly. Then there it was. Consuming fire jetting out of my dick, it set off every nerve in my body and shut down the thinking part of my mind. It was all I could do not to crush Kabe under me.
When my breath came back, I kinda slid sideways. I mean, I was still on top of him and Kabe was still under me, ‘cause the chair weren’t really big enough for two grown men. I didn’t really want to move much right then though. And Kabe, he seemed content enough to leave us be even though it couldn’t have been too comfortable for him.
Finally, I mumbled, “I probably ought to put my shotgun away.” Didn’t make no effort to actually get that done.
“What,” Kabe gave me a sleepy grin, “you can get it up again so soon?”
That made me snort. “You are bad, boy.”
“I know.” He licked the sweat off my cheek. “But you wouldn’t like me any other way.”
Didn’t have to answer that. We both knew he was dead on target with that comment.
I got out of my patrol vehicle and stretched. Three hours on the road and my back decided to kink up. Didn’t know why as I spent most of my day driving long stretches across my beat and it never bugged me that much before. Somehow, the trip down the mountain and along a flat stretch of highway on into Provo just seemed longer than the actual time under the tires would account for. If I was honest with myself, it probably had to do with where I was headed than how long I’d been driving.
Now that Lane’s disappearance turned into a suspicious death, I had to re-interview those that knew him or last saw him. The easiest one to track down was his best friend Trey Hall. He’d got his mission call and gone off to Provo for training. The other boys were all in the wind so far. So, I’d come on down into Provo to have a little chat with Trey.
The main building of the Missionary Training Center—MTC for short—with its butterscotch brick walls and box architecture, squatted behind the ring of flag poles flying the colors of close to fifteen nations. Forty-thousand square feet devoted to preparing young men to go forth and convert the citizens of those nations. Across the street sat the LDS Temple…probably the ugliest one I’d ever seen. Looked like a white tractor wheel turned on its side with a stick shoved through the middle. And the sight of it hit me kinda hard and deep. I’d never, ever, be allowed to go back in one. Instead of dwelling on what I couldn’t change, I snugged down into my jacket and headed off across the lot to the lobby, dodging the drifts of snow so as not to get my boots wet.
It’d been a long time since I’d set foot on the grounds of the MTC; going on fourteen years or so. Off in the distance, I could hear the jabber of a dozen different languages as the missionaries practiced the tongues they’d speak for the next two years. I paused a moment just before the big gray sign informing me where I was. Somewhere, in among my mom’s things, was a picture of me at nineteen, scared and looking all awkward in my dark suit and blue tie standing in front of that same sign. Every boy who’s ever done a mission likely had one just like it taken. The preface to two months or so of language immersion, lessons in proselytizing and prayer. Those who don’t got to learn a language only stay about two weeks.
Once I got inside, the place was pretty much exactly how I remembered it; white brick walls and pale wood. A few Elders worked at their celestial service; polishing the floors and cleaning windows. I counted them as lucky, my job generally had been to scrub the dormitory john. When you ain’t learning, you’re working, praying or doing laundry. I guess it’s supposed to get you mentally prepared for your next two years spending every waking moment stumping your district. They, like the few other Elders I’d seen on my walk in, kept a wary eye on me. The MTC didn’t get a bucket load of visitors and I can nigh guarantee that most ain’t wearing a sheriff’s uniform and packing heat.
It took all of a moment before a rake thin Elder, with a bad case of acne and a name tag boasting Taylor, came up to me. “Sheriff Peterson?”
“The sheriff’s my boss, Elder.” I grinned to let him know I was just joshing him. “Deputy Peterson.”
He managed a thin laugh in return. “The Mission President is waiting for you.” Missionaries were grouped up into districts, each one governed by a president called from the faithful. Men in the church were called to the MTC to act as the Elders’ spiritual advisors, counselors and, considering the bulk of their charges were nineteen-year-old boys, occasionally as drill sergeants for the time the missionaries were housed at the MTC. Others would take over that same duty when the missionaries went out into the world. Elders rarely went unsupervised except on their rounds.
The Elder ushered me through the halls to the President’s office. A man, maybe my age but darker and heavier, looked up from his reading when Elder Taylor knocked on the open door. “Ah, Deputy Peterson, why don’t you come in?” Shuffling a stack of papers, they looked like the weekly confessionals of his charges from what I recollected. He gave instructions to the young man at my elbow. “Elder Taylor shut the door and then go get Elder Hall. Tell him I want to see him in my office.” As the door snicked shut, he set the papers off to the side, pulled his reading glasses from the bridge of his nose and stood, reaching across the desk to hold out his hand. “I’m John Stacy, we spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, sir.” I moved my Stetson into my other hand—habit, I’d taken it off the moment I walked into the building—and took his shake. “Thank you for setting this up. Like I told you over the phone, I need to speak with Elder Hall about a couple friends of his.”
“I know you said something about two missing boys.” He released my hand and sank back into his chair. I settled myself into one of the two guest chairs. “Can I ask why you need to discuss it with Elder Hall?” He tapped his glasses against his lips. “It sounded like the boys went missing a while back.”
“Before the first big snow.” Not knowing what else to do with it, I hung my hat on my knee. “We’re going back over things to see what might turn up in light of new evidence we have.”
That got him leaning in a bit. “New evidence?”
Weren’t really any reason to hide it. “We found Lane Walker’s body.” Heck all the local papers and even a couple national ones ran the story. “The other boy, Chris Harris, is still missing.”
“Oh. And you’re thinking…”
“We don’t right know.” I shrugged ‘cause I really didn’t. I had a bucket full of suspicions, however I didn’t know, so I wasn’t exactly lying. “But it does change how you approach the disappearance of a couple of teenage boys.”
Don’t know why it bothered me to think on whether I was lying or not to the Mission President. Other than maybe just hold over from my time as an Elder. Lord knows my weekly sessions with the Mission President had darn near did me in. A lot of half truths and not quite admissions went past my lips during that time. Cain’t say that I’d actually lied then…or maybe it was more I lied to myself so much about who I was and what I wanted that I didn’t know what the real truth was. All I can say, is I did a lot of praying asking God not to test me with another woody in the showers.
I realized I let the conversation drift a moment with my memories. “Something unfortunate happened and we need to dig into what.”
“We’ll assist in any way you need.” He offered up a tense, but genuine smile. “We cooperate with law enforcement whatever nation we’re in.”
That’s about the time I heard footsteps in the hall. Not a minute later a tentative knock sounded against the door. President Stacy called out, “It’s open.” I stood and turned…didn’t feel comfortable with my back to the door.
After a moment, a good looking young man, with a big set of ears and a shock of fuzzy brown hair, pushed open the door. “You wanted to see me, President Stacy?” I recognized him from some of the pictures in my file: William “Trey” Hall.
“I did, Elder Hall.” Stacy used his glasses to point towards me. “This is Deputy Peterson from Garfield County.” Then he tucked his glasses into the pocket of his shirt. “He needs to speak with you.”
It looked like Trey had just sucked down a barrel of lemons. “Joe Peterson, from Panguitch?” His eyes went from me to President Stacy and back again. “That Deputy Peterson?”
I wish I didn’t know where that attitude came from. I shrugged like it didn’t matter. “There’s only one of me.”
Trey didn’t move out of the doorway. “Do I have to talk to him?”
“He needs to ask you some questions,” Stacy stood, rested his knuckles against the top of his desk and leaned toward the boy, “about your friends who went missing.”
“Why did they send you? Why not someone else, especially here?”
That brought Stacy around the desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and his voice went stern. “Elder Hall, I would suggest you mind your manners in front of this officer.” The Church really did believe in law and order…the President’s comments weren’t just blowing smoke up my butt.
“Do you know who he is?” The hate that came through in his voice was the kind that’d been reared up in him for nineteen odd years. “He shouldn’t be here.” That kind of disgust didn’t grow up overnight.
“What is your issue, Elder?”
Didn’t really want to get into it and drag things down. “Don’t worry about it President Stacy. Just leave it be.”
“He was excommunicated.” Thinking, maybe, he’d got me, Trey sneered, “For being a faggot.”
An odd look blew across the President’s face. I didn’t know what to think. The man’s expression was unreadable. When he spoke his tone was cold. “You will not use such derogatory terms while you are on your mission. Do you understand, Elder?” Stacy drew himself up and stepped in close to Trey. “Until such time as you can honestly say you have done nothing that would lower yourself in the eyes of God, then you have no right to ever disparage anyone.” Nose to nose he read that boy the riot act. “This deputy has come here on an official investigation. Whatever his status with the Church is wouldn’t matter one iota to me because he’s here in that uniform asking for our assistance. Do you understand?”
“But…” Trey almost swallowed that one word. I don’t think he expected that attitude from the Mission President.
“If I must, I will sit there in that room and make sure you cooperate fully.” Stacy moved back to his desk and pointed at me. “Elder, you cooperate with the authorities, always, no matter who they are.”
“But he…” Trey’s bravado crumbled in the knowledge that President Stacy didn’t back his hate, “everyone near Panguitch knows that he’s taken up with this guy and got kicked out.”