When the West is Red
After depositing the last load of dirty dinner dishes next to the basin, to the annoyance of the unfortunate teen on washing duty, Aaron dashed to the door, ignoring the annoyed shouts of the other kitchen workers as he knocked into their workstations with his lanky limbs. Those never seemed to be where he expected them to be unless he was looking right at them these days.
He pretended to stumble—nearly falling for real in the process—when he approached the portal, and scooped up a cloth bundle he'd secreted there earlier in the evening when the cooks finally went to take their own meal. Aaron stuffed the treasure under his shirt, hunching over it to hide the lump it made, and lumbered up the stairs, down the corridor, and out into the golden light of the cool evening.
It's a good thing for him that people tended to ignore Aaron. Had any of the few adults still in the castle corridors given him a proper look, it would have been obvious that the boy was up to mischief. But as it happened, they did not look and Aaron got away with his prize, feeling proper pleased with his subterfuge.
Once clear of the gates, he ran to the spot he'd picked along the River Wear. Out of the way, at a bit of a bend, with thick woods just beyond the trail and a tall tree to either side of a stretch of even grass along the bank. Nicely out of sight from anyone not strolling by on the path. Private, like.
Aaron placed his bundle on the grass, then plodged into the woods until he found the hollow he'd stuffed his other gear into. He hauled his kit back to the bank, brushing off twigs and dried leaves along the way, then set it down as well, unwrapping the small items contained within. He put these next to the cloth-wrapped bundle, then stood and shook out the blanket that had held his supplies, spreading it neatly on the ground between the two trees.
It was a sad, moth-eaten thing: dull brown, woolen and itchy. Not so nice as the red and white chequered blanket he'd once seen James picnicking on, but it was all he could lay his hands on, and it would do.
Next he placed the bundle in the center of the blanket. He unwrapped two honeyed oat cakes that he'd pinched from the chief's tray before it was taken upstairs; she probably hadn't noticed them missing as she usually returned the tray with only a single bite taken, and there had been fruit as well. Aaron stared at them hungrily, despite having eaten well before starting the cleanup. They looked so good…
But the boy controlled his urge to eat them both and settled for picking up the sweet crumbs that had fallen off them during their rough treatment and sweeping those into his mouth instead. Mmmm!
That done, he grabbed an old chipped lemonade bottle whose stopper still sealed. He'd filled it earlier from one of the kegs at the Shakespeare while Dan Turner broke up an argument between two patrons. Aaron hoped that he'd gotten one of the ciders—he liked those—and not one of the other nastier concoctions the barman had on offer. It had smelled sweet, though, so Aaron thought it would be fine.
Finally, the finishing touch. Aaron picked up the stubs of around a dozen candles and started pressing them into the earth around the blanket. He'd scrounged in people's rubbish for days hoping to find enough. Most people were conscientious enough to take their stubs down to the chandler for recycling, but there were enough lazy arseholes in town that he was able to find a few.
Once the last candle was set, a thought dawned on Aaron; a thought that should have come to him days ago when he'd conceived this plan.
Matches. He didn't have any. What's more, the things were so precious these days, he probably wouldn't have been able to bring himself to nick one.
Face burning with shame and anger, Aaron collected up the stubs and threw them into the woods behind, grunting with his frustration and disappointment at each toss.
Aaron turned west again, toward the setting sun as it shifted from gold to fire, and plopped himself onto the blanket, feet drawn partway up, elbows propped on his knees, and buried his face in his hands.
He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. Aaron had once heard Sheriff Addo talking to somebody about using breathing to ground himself. Aaron didn't really know what that meant, but after a few deep breaths he did feel better. It was fine. The candles would have been lush, but it wasn't dark enough yet to need them. And when it was dark enough…
So, the scene was set. Now there was only one thing missing.
Ever since James had done a runner with Archie and that new boy, Ryan had been all mopey and forlorn. Aaron hated seeing his friend unhappy, but more than that, he was starting to get annoyed at the boy. They'd been friends since they were bairns, and recently Aaron had thought that… But, well, Ryan had been moon-eyed for James for nearly a year now, and Aaron had been having increasing trouble getting anything other than ooey-gooey Jamesy-wamesy talk out of the older boy. Then when James took off, Ryan seemed to stop talking at all.
What was so special about James anyway? Sure, he was older and not all gangly. And he was smart and talked proper posh sometimes. And Aaron supposed he was handsome, and kind and fair, and always looking out for other people…
Anyway, Ryan had taken to trudging up and down the Wear in the evenings. Sometimes he'd stand on Framwellgate Bridge, staring upriver, but usually he just walked back and forth along the bank until it got dark enough to force him home.
Aaron hoped that Ryan would come by soon; the sun was starting to shift into rich reds, the sunset really setting the horizon aflame across the river.
"Aaron?" Aaron spun his head, and there he was: Ryan, looking worn out and a bit miffed, actually. Was… Was he annoyed at Aaron for being here?
Whatever. Now was the moment.
"Alreet mate." Aaron gestured to the spot on the blanket beside him. "Come sit with us, will yee?"
Ryan frowned, but moved around the younger yet taller boy and sat beside him. "What you doing here?"
Aaron didn't answer, but instead picked up one of the oat cakes. "Cake?" he asked, as he offered it to his friend.
Ryan looked a bit confused, but took the dessert silently and gave it a nibble. Aaron grabbed up the other one and bit in, relishing the sweetness. Aaron's was gone before Ryan was half-way through his.
When Ryan had finished with his treat, Aaron picked up the bottle. He popped the cage and tipped the stopper off, then took a quick sip to make sure it wasn't awful. Good! It was cider!
Aaron offered the bottle to Ryan who seemed more bemused than annoyed now. Ryan accepted, and took a pull on the sweet liquor, then handed it back. The two boys watched the sunset in silence, trading the bottle back and forth until it was empty. They then watched some more.
As the sun began to slip below the horizon, Ryan asked his question again. "What are yee doin' here, Aza?"
Aaron grew annoyed, and looked over at his friend and frowned at him. Wasn't it obvious? "I… It's…" He gestured around, indicating the itchy blanket, the cloth with crumbs, empty bottle, and the rapidly setting sun. "It's a picnic, innit?"
"Aye, but why did you set up a picnic for us?"
Aaron gaped at him. How could Ryan be this stupid?! His mouth opened and closed as he tried to get some words out, but all he ended up managing was, "fancy a swim, then?"
Ryan cocked his head, looking confused. "No, ye dafty. It'll be proper cold! You're acting soft as clarts, you are."
Aaron flushed, not quite sure which way to take that. "Come on, let's take a dip anyway." He lept to his feet and started stripping out of his clothes.
"But I didn't bring me togs…" Ryan protested weakly, also climbing to his feet.
"Now who's being daft?" asked Aaron, down to his pants. "We're swimmin' in nowt!" With that, he shucked the last of his clothing and stood before his friend, naked in the dying light, cool breeze tickling his bits. It was chilly enough, and he was nervous enough, that he wasn't showing much, but what he had was there for Ryan to see. Maybe, finally, the idiot boy would understand.
And Ryan did look. The two boys had seen each other nude countless times over the years, but this time was different; the night had a charge to it that changed how he saw things. His eyes had no time to spare for bits of boy he'd seen a thousand times this summer and instead locked directly on that most special region between his friend's legs.
The long stretch of skin above Aaron's young tool was almost entirely smooth, but did show one arcing row of short, straight, soft looking hairs, with a few blonder strands poking out above and below. The shaft of the boy's worm was shrivelled in the cool air, not giving a very good impression of its normal size, but Ryan could tell that it would be slender when stretched out. Below that hung a rather large and red sack, plump and swollen looking, though held up high.
As Ryan looked, finally all of Aaron's odd behaviors made sense. Not just this picnic, but all summer. The long looks, the stumbling speech…
Something snapped into place in Ryan's mind, and his melancholy seemed to drain out of his chest, run down his legs and flow into the earth, leaving him feeling shivery and giddy. He looked back up into Aaron's nervous face and grinned. "Alreet! Let's swim!" and he quickly tore off his own clothing and charged down the bank.
Aaron whooped and plunged after him, getting fully soaked from his own splashing while still only up to his shins and regretting his suggestion. Just as he reached knee deep, Ryan splashed past the opposite way, climbing back up the bank. "Haddaway man! It's fuckin' baltic!"
The two boys sat huddled together, shivering, bare arses planted on the grass, itchy blanket wrapped around them as they laughed and heaved.
As their shivering subsided, Ryan leaned his head against Aaron's shoulder and breathed out with contentment. "Thank you for this."
Aaron leaned his head over, pressing his cheek to the older boy's mostly dry hair. He rotated his head a bit and gave the hair a kiss, causing Ryan to pull back and stare into his eyes. A moment later, Ryan leaned forward again tilting his head back, and brought his lips to Aaron's. They met, pressed together briefly before coming alive. The two boys kissed deeply, letting their tongues get involved as their confidence grew.
Aaron pushed Ryan to the ground, causing the older boy to break the kiss briefly for a giggle before Aaron smothered it with renewed effort.
Ryan's hands went to Aaron's chest, pressing up just enough to really feel his fingers sink into the boy's lean flesh, but not hard enough to push the boy away. He slid his hands down the torso, running them over the smooth belly then out and around the flanks before crossing Aaron's spine behind him, then brought them back up, feeling every nob along the way, wrists bouncing over Aaron's ribs like a cartwheel on a rutted road. When his hands reached his lover's shoulder blades, he pulled hard, crushing Aaron down onto him, feeling the boy's entire naked length press against his own.
Aaron was unable to get his arms under Ryan's body, pressed into the ground as he was, so he settled for cradling the boy's head, using the leverage to crush their mouths together. He groaned into Ryan's mouth as he was drawn into full contact, feeling his erection press into Ryan's own. Feeling that steely boy pole rubbing against his own reminded him that he hadn't gotten a proper look at Ryan before he'd plunged into the frigid river.
Aaron broke the kiss, gasping, and managed to get out, "let us have a look, then!"
He planted his hands to either side of Ryan's head, lifting himself up, and brought his knees to the sides of Ryan's hips, creating a space between them. He reached one arm around behind him to resettle the blanket so it formed a tent over the two of them with Aaron's back acting as the center pole.
Aaron looked down their two bodies, and in the last dregs of twilight he could see Ryan's erection, just barely smaller than his own slim hardon which dangled above it. Ryan's navel and pubis were bare, right up until the junction with his hard cock where there were two patches of brown hair at either side, just beginning to curl. Ryan's cockhead barely poked its eye out of his foreskin whereas Aaron's own skin pulled back to reveal a good quarter of his head.
Ryan's hands snaked down and took hold of Aaron's member, skinning back his hood all the way. Aaron moaned in ecstasy and, unable to hold back any longer, plunged his face back down to Ryan's and resumed their kissing.
Ryan bucked his hips up, pressing the two boycocks together, wrapped his long, slim fingers around them both, and tugged the skin up and down. When both foreskins were completely retracted, their red helmets would kiss and send a shiver up one boy and down the other.
Aaron's thighs grew too weak at the sensation to hold him up, and he dropped down, mashing their growing willies together again. Ryan withdrew his hand from between them as Aaron ground himself into Ryan's crotch, stimulating them both. Ryan's other hand joined the first as they slid around and grasped Aaron's skinny but well shaped butt, digging his fingertips into the cleft between the boy's mounds. This caused Aaron to buck harder, leaving streaks of thin liquid smeared across Ryan's abdomen.
Ryan stiffened suddenly beneath Aaron's assault and began to shudder, crying out into Aaron's mouth. The bigger boy felt a wetness spreading between them and, not wanting to be left behind, gave a few more vigorous thrusts into his best friend's groin and then joined him in bliss.
They used the cloth from the oat cakes to wipe up their emissions, then helped each other back into their clothes as full dark settled over them. One grabbed the bottle, the other wadded up the blanket, and the two boys shared a gentle kiss before shifting their loads so they could hold hands as they strolled back to town.