The following contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts between consenting teenage boys. It is a work of pure fiction and has no basis in the real world. Any similarities between people and places is just simple and plain coincidence. Do not read this story if you are under 18 or the legal age in your area; or, if it is just down right illegal to read this material where you live. And, don't go any further if you don't want to read about gay/bisexuals falling in love and having sex.
The author of this story retains copyright to this story and its characters. Reproducing this story for distribution without the author's explicit permission is a violation of that copyright.
Feel free to email me at email@example.com I'd love to hear what you think.
Strangers on a Train
by J. A. Adkins
Part 5-Brewing Trouble
Reality can strike like an out-of-control shopping cart loaded down with bricks and grinding on the hinge of one bad wheel, locked on a collision course with your feeble body. There is nothing you can do to avoid it. You step out of its path to find yourself in front of it again. It can leave you breathless. It can leave you happy and laughing; it can leave you curled in a ball behind bruised knee caps crying into bloody palms. Or, in my case, it can leave you screaming for dear life; naked as the rainy day you were born, on top of the curved metal roof of a train car traveling sixty-five miles per hour down a pair of narrow moonlit tracks in a humid summer night.
I rolled frantically onto my side, my brain struggling in a full fledged panic to gain some sort of bearing. I took a breath, my throat dry and raw. My intake of air became a painful gasp when the night-painted blur of the ground passed beneath the train; just barely recognizable as some place hard I didn't want my body to go.
My brain had seen enough and gave the order for my nerves-now tense as steel and tingling under adrenaline flooded veins-to turn my body back again. I rolled onto my spine and screamed again, this time at the sight of the silhouetted figure crouching inches above my face. He bent closer. I could make out the features of my boy-god, Darren. I still hadn't stopped screaming yet.
He narrowed his eyes. "Would you stop yelling?! I'm going deaf!"
"What the hell are you doing up here?!" I asked quickly, my senses wrapping tightly around a tiny fracture of calm composure.
"Oh, you know...I heard the view was good. Thought I would have a look," he mocked. "What do you think I'm doing up here?! I'm rescuing your pale ass!"
The thought didn't strike me right then-what, with my brain still a little distracted with finding itself on top of a train-but later on I would remember Darren saying this and smile. Did that mean he was actually checking out my ass?
He grabbed my sweating, clammy hand with his tender fingers, gripping it tightly. I looked longingly into his focused eyes as he sat me upright in time to see the moonlit brickwork of a tunnel arch coming toward us. "Actually, I'd rather stay laying down," I shouted, pointing towards the front of the train. In the second before Darren pressed his free hand against my racing chest and pushed me down on my back again, only to half cover my goose-pimpled skin with his own tight, nearly fully clothed body, I realized how far back on the train we were.
The pitch black tunnel consumed the night, roaring against our ear drums. It disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, unlocking the tepid night sky highlighted in a hazy silver glow from the low hanging moon. Darren sat up once more, pulling me too as he rose to his feet. "Come on!" He looked over his shoulder at me. His eyes traveled up and down in a heartbeat. "Let's get back inside! There's a draft up here!"
"That's an understatement for the record books!"
I got to my feet, following him closely. Holding onto his hand for dear life would not just be a colorful or descriptive metaphor in this case. I tightened the grip my fingers had on his smooth hand as we neared the edge of the car. I felt him flex his fingers in response. I grinned a little, the most I could given the circumstances.
"We have to climb down this ladder!"
"I'll wait for the elevator!"
"Shut up and get on the ladder!" He looked at me, that cocky, confident, and unassuring grin on his adorable face glowing in the moonlight. "Unless of course you'd rather make the rest of the trip up here!"
I looked at him pointedly. "Point taken! After you," I gestured. Darren nodded and started down the ladder, releasing my hand for the first time in minutes. I watched him closely as he descended. He glanced back at me once. I felt a familiar stirring in a place I was surprised to be stirring at this point in time. His head disappeared past the edge of the roof. I took this as my cue to start following, turning around and gripping the thin metal bars tightly. I moved each waking, trembling leg with ease. At least half a minute went by before the bottom rung of a ladder that was only six feet tall.
When I turned around I realized we were standing on the outside platform of one of the coupling compartments. Darren smiled, "Took you long enough!"
"Get a good look?"
"Not much to see!" He smiled.
"Going to open the door?" I was not amused by his comment.
Darren turned around and pulled on the small handle, pushing it down before pressing his weight into the hatch. It slid away and we stepped in. The muted din of the train drowned my ears. I was thankful to hear it and the heavy, thunderous pounding of my heart.
I leaned against the wall, catching my breath and letting my brain calm down for a minute. The pop-rock colored sparks had filled my vision and the room had started spinning unusually on its own after Darren had closed the door. He looked at me with concern.
I nodded, swallowed, then answered. "Yeah. I just need a minute."
"Okay. But let's not wait too long. We need to get you back to the room."
I glanced at him, watching him suspiciously try to keep his eyes away from my spot on the wall. "That anxious, huh? Must be all this excitement."
He laughed. I saw his eyes travel to me for an instant second. He looked up and smiled. "Must be."
I let my gaze fall down my own body to the lengthening tract of skin below my waistline. I blushed, glowing red like a warning siren. "Umm...its just happy to still be functioning."
"Clothes," I said and remembered suddenly, simultaneously. "Where are my clothes?"
Darren shook his head. "I couldn't tell you. I was just as surprised as you-I assume-to find you naked up there."
I glanced back at my roommate. "How did you even know I was up there?"
"Your friend, the Porter. He knocked on my door-"
Darren looked at me. "Excuse me... . Our door. He told me he saw two twink-looking fellows carrying you off in a robe in this direction. He added your face was swollen and that you looked passed out. I said I would check and see what was going on."
I raised my fingers slowly to my face, hesitantly touching my aching cheek bone. I barely remembered someone punching me. It had to have been one of the guys from the Lounge Car. I looked over at Darren again. He stood watching me intently. His eyes never left mine.
"How did you know I was on the roof?" I asked, satisfied I was going to have a black eye and pulled my fingers away, not wanting to aggravate the pain anymore.
"I saw the two the Porter described walking back from this part of the train. Only, you weren't with them. Once they were gone, I came in here. I noticed the door leading outside was unlocked. It was just a hunch you would be up there. Guess it was right."
"You always follow your gut?"
"Hasn't been wrong, yet. Well...not often enough for me to doubt it," he added quickly, standing up straight.
"I guess I should be thanking you."
"It wouldn't hurt."
I narrowed my eyes, annoyed by his coyness now. "Thank you."
"Now, can we go back to the room? I don't mind being naked; but this is turning out to be a bit much."
Darren looked me over. I think he was beginning to enjoy it. I wondered how often-as my mind had been wandering these last few minutes-how often those icy blue eyes had snuck in an observing peek at what I couldn't really hide. "You going like that?"
"I don't really have much choice, do I?"
He thought for a moment, curling those supple, strawberry colored lips. "Fuck it," he mumbled, lifting the untucked hem of his white tank top that had been clinging to his perfectly sculpted, subtly protruding pectorals. I watched, wide-eyed, as he unhooked the button of his jeans. He pulled the zipper free in the same motion, unveiling a boxer short concealed mound easily perceptible in the shadow welcoming yellow light from above us. Down came the denim sheath from which his athletically toned and lightly golden tanned legs emerged from. I felt the drool collecting at the corners of my mouth again. Blood my brain liked to have around to think rationally retreated through my body to my penis. It sprang to life once again, anxious for a peek at what my boy-god had hidden under the cotton, pinstripe boxers.
Darren took a short step to me. His cheeks had begun to blush slightly and he held his jeans low in one hand. "Here," he said, shortly. "Put these on. This way we both have at least some clothes on."
I smiled at him. There was no hiding my growing erection and I wasn't going to let him get away with trying to hide his. As I took the jeans he held in his right hand with my left, I made sure my fingers crossed over the now significant mound under the thin, smooth fabric. I heard him take in a short, quick breath before stepping away. I took the jeans from him as he turned around away from me.
"Thank you," I said. There was an even less subtle edge of flirtation in my voice. As I started to pull his jeans over my feet and legs, I glanced at Darren sidelong. He was smiling. I grinned, pleased with myself and pulled the denim pants on the rest of the way.
A minute later, after Darren peered cautiously out the door and down the silent, sleeping corridor, the two of us started back for our room. I wasn't sure how many cars ahead of us it was. We quietly, and with quick steps, reached the front of the first car, opening the doors into the Dining Car. A few members of the crew sat mumbling drowsily to each other at the tables. The glow of the tiny lamps on each table cast soft, pale highlights over their tired faces. Smoldering cigarette ends hung smoldering between motionless fingertips. The thin curls of choking smoke added another level of ambiance to the quiet room. I watched them as they stared with curious faces at the two half-naked boys walking hurriedly through the car.
I couldn't help but take advantage of the situation. As Darren pulled up on the lever on the door at the front of the car, I turned around to face our small audience.
"It was incredible," I said with a not-so-soft whisper and a breathless roll of my eyes. A few of the women giggled and blushed while the men shook their heads and turned back to their conversations.
I turned myself back around to meet a venomous glare from Darren. I shrugged my shoulders. "All in good fun."
"'Till someone gets hurt."
The door behind us still hadn't closed all the way. I glanced over my shoulder, saying more loudly, "Onward you sexy thing you!" An elderly woman with frizzled, light brown hair laughed, nearly spilling her coffee. Darren pulled open the second door with a huff, took a step into the waiting corridor and stopped dead in his tracks.
Not paying too close attention, I bumped into him. I savored the moment of my bare chest coming into brief contact with his bare shoulder. It was electrifying; a feeling that reeked havoc with my crotch. Finally though, I looked up to see what had caused his sudden halt. It didn't take me long to find.
The door to our compartment was open. From inside, giggling and pushing each other, stepped the always horny partners in crime: Niel and Guy. They teased each other. Niel licked the side of Guy's front, cupping his aching balls buried inside the fabric of his cargo shorts. Guy moaned, squeezing the hardened pole covered by Niel's own shorts.
"Hey!" Darren yelled. The two twinks jumped, releasing each other's packages. "What the fuck do you two think you're doing in..." Darren glanced over his shoulder, "...our room?!"
"Thank you," I said softly near his ear.
"No problem," he quickly replied.
"You both are sharing the room?" Niel asked, standing up straight again. He looked at his partner. "That means there's two of them, not one."
Guy narrowed his gleaming eyes, glancing between his partner and the two of us.
"Does that mean we got the wrong one?" Niel asked in a growing panic.
Guy's glare looked onto my eyes. "We didn't even get one. The little runt-ass is still alive."
Darren cut his hand through the air. "Shut up! Both of you?" He looked at Guy and Niel. "Who are you bung holes and what were you looking for in there?"
The two partners looked at each other. "What do we say?" Niel's eyes were flooded with fear. Apparently things were not going as easy as they had seemingly been promised.
Guy reached into his back pocket, revealing an intimidatingly-sized pocket knife. The freshly cleaned blade glinted in the hard, white light of the car. "We don't say anything. Let's just get 'em!"
With that, Guy leapt forward, charging down the narrow corridor. Niel snapped to frightened attention, following suite as he pulled out a similar knife and bounding nervously down the hallway. Darren backed into me, pushing me against the now closed door into the next compartment.
I turned, struggling to free the door in a sudden panic. My sweat-covered fingers and adrenaline-blinded vision couldn't work together to form the coordination to open the door, allowing for our escape from the angry and rather brainless twink boys charging down the corridor. Darren turned around, struggling to get around me and open the door himself. "Now would be a good time, Chapman!"
"I'm trying! And it's Taylor," I added quickly.
I could hear Guy's growls and feel the vibrations of his feet in the floor. Another few steps and they would be on top of us. Yet, their advance went silent for a split second as the thick, metal crunch of bone and muscle meeting a solid, faster moving surface resonated up and down the corridor. We turned around, hearing two muscular bodies collapse in a tangled and moaning heap to the vibrating floor behind a gray, fiberglass door.
"Jake," I smiled, acknowledging the boy standing in front of it; the same cheeky grin on his face.
Darren pulled the lever free at last, releasing the door. "Come on," he grabbed my arm, pulling me behind him, back towards the Dining Car.
"Be careful," I heard Jake yell as the door we couldn't open slid shut once again.
It didn't take anywhere near as long to open the second door. The two of us hustled down the narrow aisle forward toward the back end of the car. Once again the drowsy occupants looked up from their half empty cups of cold coffee and beer, watching as the two scantily dressed boys retreated back to where they had emerged from just a few minutes before.
As we passed through the dining car and into the next, we heard the doors open and close behind us. The recognizable grunts of two tired bodies still in pain echoed down the aisle and into our ears. I closed the door of the new car, locking it. Behind me I heard Darren snap his fingers.
"I think this is one of the baggage cars."
"So," I asked, walking up beside him.
"This might be a good thing..." he started to say but his voice trailed off as he walked hurriedly towards one of the shadow enveloped racks bolted to the wall.
"Why is that?"
"Because if I can find...my...bag..." he answered quickly, pulling and pushing at random bags. Well, they were random to me. "...Then we won't...have a pro...problem any more."
"How is that, exactly?"
A sudden click of a door handle being pulled too and the snap of locks gripping each other tighter made both our head turn toward the door. Fists pounded against the thin yet durable metal skin.
"You can huff and puff..." I yelled, teasingly. I looked back over at Darren, my voice not as confident. "Could you hurry up, please?"
Darren looked back at the luggage racks, moving frantically between them. The pounding on the door grew louder. I could hear the locks whining in painful protest as more and more stress was applied to them. I could see the metal of the door shake and tremble with each heart skipping thud. "Darrreeeenn!"
"Wait...wait! I...think...Yes! Found it!" He pulled a long black duffle bag off of the shelf, dropping it onto the floor.
The door rattled again. A lock snapped and rang mournfully as it lost its grip. They were breaking through. I backed closer to Darren. He opened one of the side pockets, tearing the heavy zipper right off the material. From the inky, unbreakable blackness inside the pocket I watched his hand wrap around and reveal a self-gleaming black pistol with a silver trimmed handle.
"What the hell is that?" The words that left my mouth were awe stricken and breathless.
With his free hand, Darren found a waiting clip in the darkness of the pocket. He brought it together with the gun, locking it into place as he spoke. "It's a gun. You know...you put bullets in it...squeeze the trigger. Bullets come out of the front...goes bang bang."
"Yes, thank you. I had no idea." I said sourly, not amused with his sarcasm. "But why do you have one?"
Darren kicked his bag aside, cocking the semiautomatic pistol as he took position in the shadow of one of the luggage racks. "I'll explain later."
The final lock broke free with an ear splitting pop. The bruised and beaten-in door retreated into the wall. Dim yellow light flooded the nearly pitch black car, silhouetting the two figures standing in the doorway. They straightened their hunched shoulders when they saw the gun. But then I saw their worried expressions change again. I turned my head toward Darren, hearing myself gasp at the same time my eyes went wide with worry.
The sound of a second gun being cocked just behind his left ear made Darren breathe in sharply.