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“WILDE BOYS: EPISODE 1.” |
FADE IN:
"WILDE BOYS: Episode 1.”
SCENE EXT/INT OUTSKIRTS OF RAPID CITY - DAY
A small motorhome from the 1970s in pearlescent grey, roof and undercarriage joined with a gold-bronze diagonal stripe. The windscreen is splotchy, smeared with insects. The driver's window is down.
The driver, BRADEN Wilde (40s), brown hair, blue eyes, takes off sunglasses and blinks repeatedly.
His expression turns glum as he passes a small elementary school, brick and asphalt shingles, mesh fence around a basketball hoop. A half-dozen preteen boys shoot hoops. They stop to watch the motorhome pass.
Suddenly, Braden seems nervous as he taps on the steering wheel. Sweet Child O' Mine sounds as if Guns N' Roses is playing in the motorhome.
Houses are small, ranch-style, set back from the road, the BLACK HILLS far beyond. A fence disappears in tall grass. Rusty abandoned cars. A for-sale sign pushed over. Mailboxes with dents.
BRADEN
(sings loudly)
… Whoa, oh whoa,
Sweet boy of mine.
Whoa, oh, oh, oh,
Sweet love of mine.
He exercises his shoulders as he passes a dilapidated red barn. His head turns to watch it go past. Behind the barn are Trembling Aspen trees, and Running Wilde Creek.
He casts a glance at the overhead mirror, smiles as if he sees someone. His hips thrust rhythmically. He begins pulling the wheel toward his pelvis. He peeks into the mirror again and again. He grins.
Begin FLASHBACK: polaroid snapshots taken in sequence inside the same late-1970s motorhome. The curtains and seat covers are hideous-green-floral, brown shag carpet.
A small boy MADISON(8-9), girl-pretty with long blond hair, his T-shirt pushed up, shorts at his ankles. He kneels, looks up at a buzzed BRADEN (11-12).
A young smooth hand lifts his chin. He gets the hint and obediently opens his mouth.
A prepubescent very-erect penis bumps the little boy’s lips. He licks the glans. His tongue curls, wriggles. He takes it inside, red lips clamped on the shaft.
The glans bulges into his cheek until he turns sideways. His cheeks pull in, sucking, taking it all the way inside.
His eyes light up as he savors the taste, the sheer naughtiness of what he is doing. He bobs his head urgently.
END FLASHBACK. Music continues.
The motorhome slows at an intersection with a stop sign shot full of holes, turns right onto an even narrower road.
A small ranch-style house comes into view. Braden slows, flips the turn indicator. He sees two silver kids’ mountain bikes propped against the verandah. He perks up.
The motorhome turns into the driveway. It passes branches from the last storm, a tree on its side, a trampoline.
SCENE EXT WILDE RANCH - continuous
The motorhome parks on broken concrete with weeds in cracks.
Close up, the house is rundown. Grey asphalt shingles lifting, peeling paint, busted window screens, foggy windows behind a weed-filled flower garden.
The front door opens in, screen-door opens out. An elderly woman steps out. GRANDMA (70s) pale, white curls, wrinkles, translucent skin. Under the shaded porch, she stands with a hand on her hip surveying the motorhome.
Wilde Thing in gold SPLASH font plasters its side door. It opens and Braden steps out. He stretches, waves tiredly, and walks across the unkempt lawn.
Grandma
Looks new, Braden. Like when we first got it.
BRADEN
Wilde Thing, remember Mom? It was ten years old when we got it. Middle-aged like me, now.
Grandma
Like I said, looks new.
BRADEN
I had it resprayed; all new mechanicals. New motor, tranny, too. You wanna take a look inside. Reckon it’ll bring back a few memories.
GRANDMA
(nods slowly)
I’m sure it does, fer you. Pity Madison ain’t here to see it.
She takes the first step, trembles, clings to the verandah post. Braden looks concerned. He hurries across the grass and takes her other arm.
Braden
Later, Mom. Let go inside. I’d love a soda... Nice to be home.
GRANDMA
Well, I’m glad you’re here, Brad, even if it is a day early.
She smiles and hugs him, and they go inside. The screen door squeaks closed.
INT WILDE LIVING ROOM - Continuous
A cramped living room from the past, two velour couches, a brown-vinyl recliner, a Sears bookcase with kids’ trophies, potted plants in dire need of water. Empty drink cans and plates cover a card table.
Two long-haired blond boys, DAKOTA (11), aka Kota, and MONTANA (9), aka Tana, lay face-down on the floor before a large flat-screen TV. On the screen is Call of Duty.
Braden focuses on their shorts, little butt bumps, skinny thighs, and bare legs. He smiles.
BRADEN
Honey, I’m home…
(louder)
Hi guys.
The boys look up, see Braden, and wave back. In the middle of a firefight, they keep playing.
GRANDMA
Turn it down, guys. They can hear you in the next county.
BRADEN
Shouldn’t they be in school?
GRANDMA
They only got one
snow day.
Summer vacation started early.
BRADEN
(whispers)
Where’s Mom?
GRANDMA
(whispers)
Said she got a job in Billings, dental hygienist. Right before school went back after Christmas.
Braden takes a few steps into the living room. Hungry eyes again lock on two little butts, back and forth as if trying to decide which one he wants to eat first.
Braden
You should’a told me, Mom. I could’a helped out.
GRANDMA
They ain’t a bother, not really. Besides, you’ve got more’n enough problems, Braden... How’s the scriptwriting business?
Braden shrugs slightly. He smiles as Dakota wriggles on the floor. His legs move apart, his shorts pulling into his crack. Braden licks his lips, stops abruptly.
He backs away, turns to look out the window. Side-on, he’s aroused. He licks his lips quickly, peeks at the boys, and turns away again.
BRADEN
I got a real nice email from Netflix. Maybe it’ll pan out.
GRANDMA
You should’a stayed with the teachin’. Done yer writin’ on the side, like I told you.
BRADEN
(whispers)
She left them here all that time? Since she took off?
GRANDMA
She’s called a few times; about what you’d expect from a frigid lesbian.
Braden
Except for their teeth, they’re better off without her.
Braden trails after her as she goes to the kitchen. He pauses for one more look. Dakota looks back at him, brushes blond locks from his eyes. They exchange smiles.
BRADEN (V.O.) (VOICE OVER)
He’s even cuter than his daddy.
Looking right at Uncle Braden, Dakota winks as he gives a discreet thumbs-up. He has ‘injun’ bracelets on both skinny wrists, punched red leather with dangling turquoise beads.
GRANDMA
I called around Billings, Braden.
BRADEN
And?
GRANDMA
She ain’t workin’. Maybe I should’a called the truck stops.
(tone softens)
They deserve better than her. The two best-looking boys west of St. Louis; she treats them like crap.
BRADEN
Kota’s fuckin’ gorgeous with his hair long.
(laughs it off)
About what you’d expect with Wilde genes.
Grandma raises an eyebrow. She hesitates, as if to say something. Instead, she sniffs, opens the refrigerator, and takes out a Coke. Her hand trembles when she tries to pull the tab. Finally, she hands it to him, unopened.
Braden turns away sadly. He looks through the doorway. The boys are wrestling. Dakota easily pins Montana. He lies on his back with his scrawny arms stretched. Face to face, they giggle and wriggle.
Braden stares at boys being boys, humping groin to groin. He can’t help himself, rubbing the heel of his hand in his crotch. He breathes deeply, sipping from the can.
GRANDMA
I worry about Tana. He’s so shy, just like his daddy. Kota, he’s a tad like you. There’s times he’s bold as can be.
Braden
(wipes his brow)
How so?
Grandma
You’ll see it, if you stick around long enough.
Braden looks around the kitchen, cast-iron frypans, ceramic dishes, cookie jar. He smiles, fond memories of the kitchen he grew up in.
His gaze stops on a framed photo of two little crew-cut-blond boys skinny-dipping in Running Wilde Creek.
BRADEN (V.O.)
Even at six, my brother was sexy; totally shameless, too. Nothing he wouldn’t do to feel good.
Grandma clears her throat. He turns awkwardly.
Braden
It’ll have to be next visit. I’m heading out first thing tomorrow.
Grandma
(rubs her forehead)
I was hopin’ fer a few days. We got a whole lot to talk about.
BRADEN
I’m doing the Rockies all summer, Mom. The same trip we did when I was 12. Everything’s planned.
She sniffs again, blinking. She leans against the counter, watching him.
GRANDMA
I need to thank you for taking care of Madison. I couldn’t face it, knowing what happened.
BRADEN
It was easier than I expected. I’m glad the boys weren’t there, though. Nothing but black queers. It should’ve been first degree!
GRANDMA
I told ‘em it was a heart attack like you suggested. Fer the best.
Braden nods, takes a long drink, puts down the can. His gaze drifts back to the framed photo. He hones in on Madison’s pale middle, genitals shriveled in cold water.
Braden
The yard needs a spruce-up, Mom.
GRANDMA
The sit-down’s out in the barn. I got new plugs. They’re on top.
BRADEN
The boys ought to be outside.
GRANDMA
They want to roam with their buddies, only I worry about them.
Braden turns, glances into the living room. Dakota gives him another thumbs-up. Montana’s too far into the game.
BRADEN
You used to say free-range kids are the best kind.
GRANDMA
When boys are as sexy as them two, they’re safer at home.
Braden turns, stares at her. A flush rises in his face.
BRADEN
Cute for sure, but sexy?
GRANDMA
(shrugs)
You see it, same as I do. They get looks at the mall.
(lowers voice)
Not just from girls. Some people you don’t want lookin’.
She follows red-faced Braden to the back door, waits until the screen door closes behind him.
Grandma
You and Madison had fun that trip. You ought to take the boys. They’d love it.
SCENE EXT WILDE BARN - CONTINUOUS
Red prairie barn with a gambrel roof, a peak projecting over the hayloft opening. Double doors, one open. Small square-paned windows are opaque with grime.
Braden tromps through long grass, eyes down. He stops abruptly, looks up at the hayloft doors. He squints, barely making out faded white letters, WILDE.
BEGIN FLASHBACK in early low-definition VHS, muted tones
Two Wilde boys in overalls drag bales from the hayloft doors. Wiry farm kids with corn-silk hair and a sheen of sweat on their smooth tanned bodies.
Together, they heave bales onto a shoulder-high stack. Below, a cow moos. A chicken squawks in the barn. Silence.
They scramble up, rearrange the bales. Braden (13) sits.
Madison (10) unfastens the shoulder straps of his overalls. With a wriggle, his overalls drop. He waddles to a hay bale, smirks back, and lays belly-down over it.
Braden approaches, undoing the front buttons of his overalls. He spits in his hand before he hears the clump of feet on the ladder.
FATHER (O.S.) (off screen)
No cornholin’ ‘til after yer done stackin’. I’m thinkin’ we’ll make a movie, Wilde in the Barn.
END FLASHBACK
Braden sighs as he passes a rail-fence corral. Skirting rusted farm equipment, he goes into the barn.
A green John Deere lawn tractor is just inside, the hood up. Two spark-plug boxes sit on the cowling. He goes to the workbench, searches among tools. He finds a ratchet with socket, turns, stops.
Squares and strips of leather spread across the bench, scattered leather tools, punches, snips, mallets, stamps, more in a varnished wood box.
Braden (V.O.)
When my dad wasn’t making home movies, he worked leather, good at it, too. Belts and bags, mostly. Wilde Bridles for show ponies were his specialty.
He scoops up tools and leather and returns them to the box, closes the lid. With the ratchet on top, he lugs the box across to the lawn tractor and puts it on the seat.
SCENE EXT WILDE HOUSE – lATER
A freshly mowed strip of grass leads from the backdoor to the garden, rows of plants with stakes, scattered weeds, a tattered scarecrow from Wizard of Oz.
Braden circles the garden, mower-blades flinging up dust.
He sees the screen door open. Grandma appears, Dakota behind her. They talk, both looking at Braden and the lawn mower. Dakota descends four stairs in a jump and sprints down the mowed strip.
Braden stops the mower, wipes sweat from his brow. He watches Dakota intently, a kid on a mission.
Up close, he has WILDE aqua eyes, a shaggy blond mane, creamy carpenter shorts, and a tight white tank top. He looks good in it, firm little pecs, taut little tummy.
BRADEN
You still beatin’ yer wife?
Dakota grins white perfect teeth. Smooth slender arms tanned to his shoulders, muscled with a laconic drawl, just right for a North Dakota farm kid.
DAKOTA
It’s a waif-beater. Wife-beatin’ is sexist, don’t ya know?
BRADEN
So now yer beatin’ yer brother?
DAKOTA
Only when he deserves it.
He steps onto the mower deck, cute as can be, and shy like a foal.
Dakota
Do I still get a hello hug?
Braden puts an arm around his waist. His other hand pats boy-butt. He pulls him closer. A few love slaps. Dakota squirms away, rubbing his butt.
Braden
You too old for a hello kiss?
Dakota’s head snaps up. He leans in, smacks lips with Braden. He lingers, lips to tips, a playful lick. They part quickly. Dakota wipes his mouth.
Braden
That was different. You been kissing the girls at school?
Dakota
And get cooties? Fuck that!
(snicker-giggle)
‘fore I ferget, Grandma says thanks fer cuttin’ a trail.
BRADEN
Fer the ‘fuck’, yer cuttin’ the rest, cowboy.
Dakota flexes his arm, fiddling with his sleeve, looking down at Braden. He glances away as Braden dismounts.
DAKOTA
Gran said I got to be 12 to drive. You want, I’ll pick up sticks?
Side by side, Uncle Braden towers over him, even standing on the mower deck. Braden roughly tousles his nephew.
BRADEN
Yer old enough fer a mountain bike, yer old enough to cut grass.
He taps the sticky plastic seat. Dakota climbs onto the mower, gives Braden another sly thumbs-up before he hunches over the wheel. Braden adjusts the seat forward.
BRADEN
This here’s the throttle. Down there on the left is the clutch and brake. Go ahead, push it in.
DAKOTA
That’s what she said.
BRADEN
In your dreams! My advice, stick to corn-holing your buddies for a few more years.
Dakota
Ain’t no way I’m doin’ it with them!
Braden awkwardly brushes the hair out of his nephew’s eyes.
Braden
Up to you. Yer old enough to cut grass, yer old enough to take it in the ass. I never said that!
DAKOTA
Last time dad and me talked, it was all birds and bees. He said corn-holin’ was no big deal.
Braden
He tell you what’s involved?
Dakota
(shrugs, voice breaks)
You said goodbye to him fer me, like you promised, right?
BRADEN
I keep my promises, Kota.
DAKOTA
(nervous look around)
On the phone, Mom said... I’m not s’posed to tell anyone...
(lowers his voice)
He shacked up with some gay rapper in New Orleans. He died from auto-somethin’. Not in a car, but.
Braden reddens, nods slightly. He reaches and turns the start key, puts the mower in forward gear.
BRADEN
Let out the pedal slowly. Don’t get off unless you stop the motor. And pay attention, Doofus-boy. Don’t want to vacuum up little bits of you.
Dakota shoves him away, grins, gives another thumbs-up.
BRADEN
Everything’s okay, I got it.
Dakota studies his extended thumb, pops it in his mouth.
Braden watches him drive off, only a slight shudder. A wide circle, then straight, then zigzags. Dakota slowly circles the garden, widening each lap.
Braden waves to Grandma and heads to the front yard.
SCENE FRONT VERAnDAH WILDE HOUSE - later
The front yard is mowed, fallen tree chain-sawed to firewood, branches collected and piled by the drive.
Dakota sits on a candy-striped lounge, drinking lemonade. Tank top off, he’s shiny with sweat, so lean and tawny that Braden keeps looking his way.
BRADEN
How did school finish up for you?
DAKOTA
I passed, asshole!
He stands, scowls at Braden, slams the screen door.
Grandma
He got a B- in history; the rest was C. Tana, he’s a straight C.
Braden
They’re way smarter than that.
Grandma
The school sent me a letter. They want both of them on Ritalin next year, or they go to Special Ed.
Braden
That’s not right, ‘specially after losing their dad.
GRANDMA
Havin’ a lesbian bitch fer a mom don’t help.
Braden shakes his head, turns at the SOUND of the TV.
Grandma
The school’s under a court order, Braden. They brought in a new superintendent, Ph.D. from California State. All she hires is women like herself.
BRADEN
If you want, I could have a talk with her.
GRANDMA
I tried to talk some sense into her. She don’t listen a damn. Boys need a teacher they respect. You’d home-school them way better than some bossy brown ignoramus who can barely speak English.
Braden exhales, closes his eyes, inhales.
Braden
I hope you don’t say stuff like that around the boys.
GRANDMA
You want me to lie to them? It’s not like I’m gonna tell ‘em their daddy was sleepin’ around with...
BRADEN
Mom, let it go!
He cranes his neck to look through the window. When he turns back, she cocks an eye.
Braden
It is what it is. I’m tired of it too. It’s why I quit teaching. I’m not complaining about it.
Grandma
The boys need you fer more than home-schoolin’.
BRADEN
I can kick in some money, $500 a month. More if my scripts sell.
Grandma
It ain’t about money. I don’t know how to say this…
They stare across the front lawn. Braden breathes deeply
Grandma
I confronted yer dad years ago.
Braden nods. He squints at the motorhome, side-on in sun.
BEGIN FLASHBACK
Canyon de Chelly National Monument, the sun blazing on the family motorhome, parked beside a vast shimmering red rock.
Two blond boys dance in homemade Indian breechclouts.
Their father stands apart with a big VHS video camera.
The boys gyrate, imitating Navajo warriors. Fingers open loosely tied knots and soft chamois cloth falls away.
Naked, they embrace, lithe bodies gyrate, erections stab. Through the viewfinder, a bizarre ritual of boyhood.
END FLASHBACK
Braden
I bet that went well.
Grandma
He said there’s four kind of boys. The ones who never try it, some who tolerate it, a lot who like it, and a few who love it.
Braden
What’s that s’posed to mean?
Grandma
He loved his boys, really loved you. It ain’t normal, Braden.
BRADEN
(glances at door)
I really pissed off Kota, asking about his grades, huh?
GRANDMA
You know exactly what I mean... I may be dumb, but I ain’t deaf, or blind. He corn-holed both of you.
Braden
It was thirty years ago, Mom! I got over it. You should, too.
He folds his arms. Grandma is American-Gothic stern. If there was a pitchfork, she’d be holding it.
Grandma
We both know why you got that motorhome. Fer its memories.
Braden
Like I said, I want to redo the trip we took that summer.
Grandma
(wheezes, chuckles)
Every night, you’d make yer cute grunting sound, uh-uh. Little Madison would whimper, ooh-ah. I reckon ‘cause he was tighter.
Braden glares at her.
Braden
So why didn’t you stop him?
GrAndma
Like he said, there’s boys who love it. Yer brother loved it. What about you?
Braden
I liked it enough. My heart wasn’t in it, not like Madison.
Grandma
You don’t have to say it. You loved him, same as yer dad did.
(coughs, wipes mouth)
A boy doin’ it with a boy, that’s just play. With a man, it’s life-changin’.
Braden
And your point is what?
Grandma
Dakota’s got himself a boyfriend, a Cheyenne boy.
Braden
(laughs)
Little Kota’s being corn-holed by an injun? You’re kidding!
Grandma
Shay’s a good boy, a tad big. I got no problem with them doin’ it, but if ‘e is, I ain’t heard.
Braden
Even if Shay’s full grown, so long as they’re careful, it’s nothing to worry about.
Grandma
If I was you, I’d worry about Kota and Tana.
Braden
They’re doing it too? Now, that’d be worth payin’ money to see.
She gives him a cold look.
Braden
I’m joking, Mom. I should worry?
Grandma
Three-dollar-bill boys, plus they’re horny as Mormons; you tell me?
Braden
You’re saying they’re gay?
Grandma
Plain as the nose on yer face. Take ‘em to the mall, you’ll see. They’ll dang-near stare at every man there.
Braden
You’re saying what, exactly?
Grandma
They need a man in their lives.
Someone who understands ‘em... Before they get into trouble.
She gestures at the Motorhome.
Grandma
Might as well go take a look, see what you done to it.
SCENE INT WILDE MOTORHOME - Continuous
Red plush vinyl covers the settee and front seats. Gold, black, and red patterned curtains, carpet, pillows, and wall fabrics—Wilde Thing is a Paris brothel of the Belle Époque, on steroids, and wheels.
Braden assists Grandma up the stairs. She looks around.
GRANDMA
Ain’t what I expected, Braden.
Braden
It was so dated, Mom. Grubby, green leaves all over. I wanted exotic, old-world, really striking.
Grandma
You got exotic. Must’ve cost a dang fortune.
Braden
It looks rich, doesn’t it? It was thirty grand for materials.
Grandma
Fer a 42-year-old motorhome, it’s a fortune.
Braden
One of my tenants, Ricci, he’s a student at F-I-D-M. He’s doing fashion and interiors. He did the work instead of paying rent.
(gestures)
So, this is the kitchen. The door fronts are Fleur-de-lis fabric under resin. I got the pulls from Goodwill, a buck each.
Braden hears the door open. He turns. Dakota and Montana crowd in, look around, grin.
Dakota/Montana
Awesome! Wow, look at this place! You got you a palace, Uncle B.
GRANDMA
You gold-plated the fridge, Brad?
Braden grins, looks from boy to boy.
Braden (V.O.)
Blond and gold, what a cool combination.
BRADEN
Just spray paint and lacquer, Ma. What’s on the walls is real French brocade, only it’s been varnished. Same for the ceilings, except he used damask.
GRANDMA
Ricci went a bit overboard, don’t you think?
Braden
A good interior is a stage set, Mom. Like Shakespeare said; ‘Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage.’
Grandma
Your ‘stage’ is a bordello, Braden.
Braden guides her past the mini-bathroom, glitzy gilt, glass, and faux granite--black with gold glitter.
DAKOTA
Cool can! Why the control panel?
BRADEN
It’s a combination bidet toilet.
Montana
What’s a biddy?
BRADEN
(smiles)
You remember the old bedroom?
He opens the door. More brocade and damask, a big bed with satin-sheen black sheets. Around it, huge mirrors in ornate frames, split down the middle.
Grandma
(under breath)
Bordello? Boydello more like.
Braden opens a mirror, revealing a panorama window.
BRADEN
Innovative, huh Mom? The back mirror hides the TV. Remember when we used to sit here and watch Dad’s home movies?
Grandma
I see you kept his souvenirs.
The boys crowd into the bedroom as she gestures at a glass-front cabinet. Inside is a yellow ceramic Big Bird statue, an orange erection for a beak.
DAkota
(snickers)
Radical! Big Bird’s as much cock as chicken!
MONTANA
(points)
What are those?
Beside Big Bird are two white ceramic rings, with plumed cocks. Below, is a built-in VHS/DVD player.
Braden
Napkin rings.
Dakota
I want to sleep in here.
Montana
Me too! Uncle Brad, you can sleep in the middle.
They clamber over the bed, rearranging plump pillows and three brocaded bolsters. They wrestle over a bolster.
Grandma
(disapproving tone)
Bolsters, Brad?
Braden
I ripped out the convertible settee. Gotta have something to lean back on, Mom.
Grandma
Brocaded is a bit over the top.
Braden
There was cloth left over.
Montana flops belly-down onto a bolster. Braden gapes as Dakota plays bongo-butt on his brother. Both boys squeal and giggle, ever louder.
Dakota flings himself onto his brother. No longer friendly wrestling, Dakota humps assertively, Montana shy, passive.
GRANDMA
See what I have to put up with?
Braden scoops Dakota around the middle and hauls him away.
SCENE EXT WILDE MOTORHOME - Continuous
Braden carries Dakota down the stairs. He leans against the motorhome. Dakota hugs him, trembles, breathing in spurts.
Braden nuzzles sweaty blond hair, inhales. Suddenly, he clutches Dakota’s small bottom. His hands grasp, fingers digging into the crack. He slowly eases him down.
BRADEN
What you did on the bed was inappropriate, Kota.
His penis bulges in his shorts. He turns to hide it.
Dakota
(glares, brushes hair)
He likes me doing it.
BRADEN
You know what it means, doing that, right?
Dakota shrugs, looks away, shuffles feet.
Braden
Tana may love you doing it, just not in front of Grandma, okay?
(takes a breath)
It’s normal for boys to play rough. Playing sexy, that’s normal, too; only not in public.
Dakota
You done lecturin’ me?
Braden
You’re smarter than Cs.
Dakota
Tell my fuckin’ teacher! She cain’t spell. She cain’t add up. She don’t care shit about boys.
Braden watches Dakota run towards the barn. From behind:
GRANDMA
Wilde Thing’s big enough fer three. Take ‘em away fer the summer, get to know ‘em. Maybe you’ll want to keep ‘em around fer a while afterwards.
SCENE INT WILDE KITCHEN – NIGHT
Grandma, on a chair by the breakfast table, supervises cleaning up after dinner. Dakota carries a dish from the dining room, hands it to Braden. He rinses and puts it in the dishwasher, top rack.
GRANDMA
Dishes go on the bottom rack.
Braden rearranges, catches Dakota’s eye roll. He winks, wipes off the counter, peeking and winking each time. Dakota smiles, shy, yet playing peekaboo, too.
GRANDMA
Nice to see yer not so grumpy.
DAKOTA
Can me and Tana go with him? Please, Gran?
Braden
It’s ‘May Tana and I.’
(sizes the boy up)
It’s for the whole summer, Kota.
Just the three of us. You won’t have time with your friends.
DAKOTA
Gran said you and our dad done the same trip. Why cain’t we?
BRADEN
We *did* the trip with Grandma and Grandpa; not some uncle we barely knew.
Dakota grunts and turns his back, muttering:
DAKOTA
We’d know you better if you visited more.
Braden
We earned it with straight As.
DAKOTA
Fuck that!
Braden stabs a finger in the boy’s shoulder, points at the door. Dakota scowls, shoves past Montana on his way out, then stops. He looks back.
Montana is fresh from the shower, long damp hair combed back, camo-flannel boxers, nothing else. Braden stares at a slender abdomen, skinny belly with a tiny navel.
Braden (V.O.)
Well, you grew up. You’re fucking gorgeous!
He seems dazed as Montana smiles. He makes direct eye contact, and he speaks, soft, mellow, flutey.
MONTANA
Wanna play C-O-D when yer done?
Braden nods obediently, his gaze fixed on Montana’s boxers. The tiny bump of boyhood lurks underneath. He watches as Montana turns, follows his brother with a skip in his step.
GRANDMA
I’ll die happy if they’re happy. This is hard for me, Brad
She wipes a tear, fingers her apron.
Grandma
If they end up like you and Madison… I can live with it. Worse things can happen.
Stunned, Braden turns back, swallows, takes a breath. She stands, one hand holding the table edge.
BRADEN
Don’t be saying stuff like that. They’re both way too young.
GRandma
How old do they have to be? I’m not some crazy old coot! I know what’s what. I raised you and Madison. You turned out okay.
BRADEN
This is different era, Mom. The world changed since we were kids. Even taking them with me is a risk. There’s busy bodies all over, goddamn K-K-K vigilantes!
GRANDMA
Yer all three is Wildes, Braden. Who’s to know yer not their dad? You git in there and play with ‘em, hear. Do what you do best.
(pushes his arm)
Show ‘em what it’s like to have an uncle who loves ‘em as boys.
SCENE INT WILDE LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS
The boys are sprawled on the rug before the TV. They acknowledge him with giggles and keep playing.
Braden sits on the couch behind them. He watches, smiling, salivating over nearly naked Montana. The TV glow makes him darker, sensuous…
GUNFIRE is distracting. Red Daniels, 1st Infantry, lobbing grenades in WW-II. So realistic that Braden shudders, looks away. Back to Montana, he makes frustrated fists. His voice breaks:
Braden
Take a shower, Kota. I can smell your sweaty butt from here.
Dakota springs from face-down to standing. He faces Braden, head tilted, eyes focused,:
Dakota
I need to talk to you, okay?
Braden
Sure. Fire away.
Dakota
It’s kinda private; guy stuff.
Braden
Right now?
Dakota
I was thinkin’ we could talk while I shower
Braden gulps. Even clothed, he’s drawn. He yawns, shakes his head, wipes his brow. As Dakota leaves, his eyes lock onto boy-butt. Out of sight, he switches to Montana.
Braden (V.O.)
She’s right about gay-junior! What are the chances of both?
He leans forward, breathes deeply, staring, licks his lips.
Braden (V.O.)
He’s not too young. Yeah, he’s too tight for grownup cock, but that’s easily fixed.
MONTANA
Uncle Brad, you want a hello hug?
Braden slides off the couch, scoots over to Montana. He puts an arm around his middle, and pulls him close.
Face to face, he strokes a sleek smooth side, playfully flicks at boxers.
Braden
First, a special handshake, okay?
Montana
What’s that?
braden
(whispers)
I touch your weenie.
Montana nods shyly. Braden squishes a limp little penis between his thumb and index finger. He whispers:
BRADEN
Yer a hot little cowboy, ain’t ya? ‘specially this little guy when he gets nice and stiff.
He strokes Montana’s flank. The boy snuggles closer, clasping Braden’s arm. Braden strokes his back, fondles soft blond hair, slightly curly, teases his ears.
Montana
I want a hello kiss, too, okay?
Braden (V.O.)
Are both of you starved for affection, or just horny?
Braden caresses his cheek. He kisses Montana’s forehead, his nose tip. Their lips brush. Braden traces a line from his nose to his lips. Montana licks his fingertip.
Braden
Always wanted a puppy.
Montana pokes out his tongue, silently daring. Braden rubs it, his lips, too. The boy giggles and kisses his fingertip. Braden’s finger moves to his chin, neck, onto his chest.
Montana giggles as his uncle’s finger approaches his tummy. It pokes into his bellybutton, keeps going.
Montana
Another special handshake, okay?
His stiff little penis pokes into his boxers. Braden squeezes it. Montana smirks.
CALL OF DUTY ON TV
Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole!
BRADEN
I’ll fire in your hole anytime.
Giggling, Montana squirms away, puts the Xbox One controller in Braden’s hands.
MONTANA
Don’t forget to throw grenades!
SCENE INT WILDE LIVING ROOM - LAter
Dakota is showered, no longer grumpy, face-down, damp shaggy long hair, playing soldier in the Battle of the Bulge.
With nothing in the way except clingy Spiderman boxers, Braden feasts his eyes on the bulge in the rear until it is his turn to play.
He settles beside Dakota with Montana laying half-over him. Little head burrows into his armpit, nuzzling. Braden is so distracted, he’s quickly a casualty:
DAkota
I’d say you play like a pussy, but Shay’s sister does better!
Braden
Don’t be calling me a pussy when you’re the one with a boy-pussy.
He scrambles up, grabs Dakota’s arm and drags him to the couch. Dakota erupts in giggles, struggles. He’s flipped onto his belly and butt-slapped until he squeals.
Braden
Aw, my cute little baby’s got a sore pussy. Let Uncle Braden rub it better.
He wrestles Dakota into position, butt-up over his thigh. One hand cups a small buttock, a satiny globe beneath Spiderman boxers. He squeezes, rubs, as Montana looks on.
Dakota goes limp. Braden fondles, gently massages. Dakota sighs as big adult fingers dip into his crevice.
It’s still play even if the fingers are tickling. His thighs move apart, inviting exploration.
In the dark, Grandma watches from the hall.
Grandma
G’night. I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late, boys.
Her bedroom door closes. Braden strokes silky boxers. A firm little butt flexes, relaxes.
Montana
Now rub my butt, Uncle Brade.
Dakota
He’s not done with mine yet!
Braden
Shhhh, guys.
He leans and kisses Dakota’s bare shoulder, still clasping boy-butt, now with his thumb pushing boxers into the crack. He smiles in the dim light, presses his thumb into the indentation.
Dakota clenches, skews his head, relaxes. Montana giggles.
Montana
He got his thumb in your a-hole?
Dakota
Kinda. Just a little bit inside.
Braden
It’s a special butt rub. If you want me to stop, just say.
Dakota gives a thumbs-up.
Dakota
Take ‘em off if you want…
Braden
I’m not sure that’s a good idea.
Dakota lifts up his middle, still with his thumb up.
Dakota
Why not? Ain’t like yer gonna corn-hole me on the couch.
Montana
Can I have a special butt rub?
Braden freezes, watches Dakota tug off his boxers, little brother looking on. It takes three hands to expose a small pale bottom, not pinched, not plump, just right.
His hand trembling, Braden gazes at virginal crack. He sighs, reaches, hesitates, smiles.
Braden (V.O.)
Nothing is perfect; butt sure comes close.
Braden
You guys even know what corn-holing is?
Montana
Dad told Kota it’s what homos do.
Dakota
Corn-holing is when boys do it.
Braden
What’s ‘it’ exactly?
Dakota
The guy sticks his dick in your butt, duh.
Braden
Okay, that’s enough.
dakota
Oh, man. You should see your face. You’re so red.
Braden
(embarrassed)
Your grandma would have a fit!
Dakota
Why? You did it with our dad when he was Tana’s age.
Proud as can be, he grins at his uncle. Next to him, Montana makes his own thumbs-up gesture.
Braden
Everything’s okay; I got it guys.
MONTANA
Ain’t what it means, Uncle Brade.
Braden frowns as the boys cackle. Dakota makes the sign, too, waving it in front of his uncle. Grandma’s door opens.
Grandma
Hush! You’ll wake the neighbors.
The boys muffle their giggles until her door closes.
Dakota
Same size, same curve. Duh!
Braden
Your dick is still that small?
SCENE INT WILDE LIVING ROOM - LAter
Braden is asleep on the couch. A small shadow in the hall creeps closer. The pad of bare feet until Dakota stands beside the couch. He nudges Braden’s shoulder.
Braden
Why aren’t you in your bed?
DAKOTA
I can’t sleep, Uncle Brade. Can we talk?
When Braden sits up, he sits on the edge of the couch.
Braden
Guy stuff?
Dakota
Grandma tell you about Shay?
Braden nods. Dakota glances around nervously.
Dakota
He wants us to be boyfriends.
Braden
As in corn-holing buddies?
Dakota
Yeah. He keeps pestering me.
Braden
You wanna tell me about him?
Dakota
He’s cool, only everyone thinks he’s dumb. Our teacher really hates him. He skips school a lot.
Braden
Grandma said he’s big. He older than you?
Dakota
He got held back, mostly ‘cause of reading. I’ve been helping him.
Braden
Now, the big question, do you like him enough to do it?
Dakota
(shrugs)
I guess.
Braden
You don’t sound very keen.
Dakota
(shrugs again)
Shay’s okay. I like him. When he touches me, it’s icky, you know…
Braden
It doesn’t feel right?
Dakota
Can I get on the couch with you?
Braden nods. Dakota peels down his boxers.
Braden
What do you think you’re doing?
Dakota
(giggles)
What’s it look like?
Boxers slide down his legs. He steps free, naked. He kneels on the couch, carefully climbs over Braden, and lies down.
Braden embraces him, kisses his forehead. Dakota whispers:
Dakota
Please take us with you?
Braden
So you won’t be his boyfriend.
Dakota
I want you as my boyfriend.
Braden
No way appropriate, okay? You best go back to your own bed.
Dakota
What about taking us with you?
Braden
I’ll decide in the morning.
Dakota
I want a hello hug, first.
Braden
You already had one, and a kiss.
dakota
I want a special hug, like we did after my shower.
Braden
It was very inappropriate. I should’ve done it.
Dakota
I really liked it. Please? Pretty please?
Braden
You don’t have boxers on, Mister.
Dakota
No one’s ever gonna know.
Dakota snuggles, long hair tickling Braden’s face and neck. He reaches, finds Braden’s right hand, pulls it to his left buttock, holds it there.
Braden resists. Dakota rocks against him, bare and hot. Resolve melts, Braden’s left hand cups Dakota’s other cheek. They lie still, sharing breaths. Braden’s thumbs circle slowly. Fingertips inch into the crack. Dakota sighs.
Dakota
Feels nice, really nice.
Braden
(murmurs)
We keep doing this, we’ll be boyfriends.
Far away, a coyote howls in the night.
Braden lifts up, beckons. Montana scurries from the hall.
Dakota
He wants to watch, okay?
Braden groans.
Dakota
My butt itches.
Braden’s index finger wriggles between Dakota’s firm buttocks. Montana leans in, one little hand either side, parting his brother’s rump.
Braden’s finger extends, touches dead center. Dakota twitches, whispers:
Dakota
Yeah, right there. Only inside.
Braden
No way! Totally inappropriate.
Dakota
It’s a special hug. Just pretend like yer goin’ to corn-hole me.
Braden
No way, not if you begged for it.
Dakota
It’s really, really itchy.
Braden
One minute and I stop.
SCENE EXT WILDE FRONT YARD – DAY
The recently washed motorhome sparkles in the early morning light. Two school backpacks, gym bags, and a few cardboard boxes are by the motorhome’s side door.
The door opens. Braden appears, stretches, yawns, notices the pile. He smiles, shakes his head even as Dakota lugs a cardboard box from the house. A grin as he approaches.
BRADEN
You taking junk to the trash?
DAkotA
Stuff for the trip, Uncle Brade. Gran said for you to keep them.
Braden reaches for the box, opens the flaps. Inside are VHS cassettes with handwritten labels. On top are Wilde in the Barn, Birthday Games, Summer Fun, and Braden Learns to Ride.
He reads, and quickly closes the flaps. He puts the box inside the motorhome. Dakota picks up a gym bag, ready to toss it to him.
BRADEN
What do you think you’re doing? I said I’d decide this morning. I think, nah, let’s just forget it.
Dakota crumbles. He stops, staring at Braden, slowly lowers the bag. His bottom lips pushes out. Braden laughs.
Braden
I’m short on space. Clothes, valuables, and food go inside. Other stuff in the rear.
Dakota
Say what?
Braden
Tell your brother we’re out of here in…
(looks at watch)
… exactly 12 minutes. You guys better get some milk and cookies for breakfast. I’m not stopping until lunch.
SCENE EXT WILDE THING - Later
The motorhome engine is running. The boys hug Grandma one last time and go up the stairs. There’s a squabble inside. Braden waits, his face red, shifting feet. He whispers:
Braden
Mom, about those videos?
Grandma
If somethin’ was to happen to me, I don’t want people seein’ them. You and the boys watch them, that’d make yer dad happy.
Braden
You know what’s on them, then?
Grandma
Boys will be boys, Braden. Men, too, I reckon. I don’t think it did you any harm, or Madison.
Braden
You’re going to be okay, right?
GRANDMA
(nods fondly)
I’m not goin’ to be around forever, Braden. I’m countin’ on you to take good care of them.
Braden
I’ll always take care of them, Mom. I love them.
Grandma
They’re desperate for affection, both of them.
Braden
They don’t need to do what their daddy and I did for that.
Grandma
I don’t want ‘em in a state home.
Braden
Never going to happen, Mom.
Grandma
After last night, it’s clear you love them. They need you as much as you need them, both ways.
Braden
(glances behind)
Mom, all this; it’s a bad idea.
GRandma
They’re good boys. Love ‘em all you want, just don’t ever hurt ‘em! You know how I mean.
Braden
You trying to tell me something?
grandma
Don’t be worryin’ about me. Worry about makin’ them happy.
He’s bright red as she steps back, arms folded across her chest, a weak smile.
GRANDMA
I know you’ll be careful, Braden. You love them; let them love you back, okay? Same as Madison.
She watches the motorhome reverse, make a slow turn across the lawn, back onto the driveway. Three mountain bikes on the rear. Two boys wave from the side windows.
SCENE INT WILDE THING – CONTINUOUS
The Wilde cockpit has sexy-red plush vinyl seats, a machined-aluminum dash, a sleek center console with GPS, entertainment, and digital gauges.
Braden steers with one hand and fiddles with his Sirius Radio with the other, trying to find his preset for Outlaw Country.
He glances back. Like a little dauphin, mopey Montana huddles in the settee with a scruffy brown teddy bear.
Braden
You getting carsick, Tana?
Montana
(scowls)
I called shotgun and you gave it to him.
Braden
First, you earn shotgun. Second, we’re doing iHop for breakfast. I need help to find Disk Drive.
Montana
(giggling)
It’s inside yer laptop, duh.
Dakota
You gotta go back into town, Uncle Brad, other side of I-90.
montana
Uncle Brad, if we’re together for the whole summer, what are we doin’ instead of hello hugs?
Braden
What do you have in mind, cowboy?
Montana
Special hugs, like you gave Kota last night.
Braden looks at the overhead mirror. Montana waves merrily.
Braden
Um, how about special handshakes instead?
Montana nods. Braden reaches across the console, squeezes Dakota’s boy-bulge.
Dakota
Stop molesting my privates, pedo!
Braden
So much for special handshakes.
Montana releases his seatbelt, giggles, stands by Braden. Braden shakes his head.
Montana
I want a special handshake, too!
Braden pretends he can’t find it, gropes boy belly and thighs. He cups Montana’s boyhood quickly, playfully.
Montana giggles. Braden makes a thumbs-up with a droopy thumb as Montana goes back to the settee. Both boys cackle.
Dakota
Where we stayin’ tonight, pedo?
Braden
Our first park is Grand Teton. Too long a drive for one day. We’ll find somewhere private.
Dakota
Are we goin’ to do sex stuff?
Braden
Not with me. If you guys want to...
Montana
Shay wants to corn-hole Kota.
Braden
Yeah, so I’ve heard.
Montana
Does it hurt, bein’ corn-holed?
Braden
At first, yeah. After a while, you get bigger back there. Then, it’s the best feeling ever.
Braden (V.O.)
Guaranteed you’ll love it if your partner knows what he’s doing.
SCENE int ihop restaurant - day
Three Wildes sit in a booth, long-haired blond boys gleefully coloring-in kid menus with crayons. Opposite, Braden sips coffee. He watches, smiling as they slurp and burp like regular west-of-the-Mississippi kids.
Braden
Grandma would have a conniption. Pancakes and chocolate milk!
The boys grin. Dakota stuffs a strawberry in his mouth.
Montana
Gran doesn’t want us getting fat.
Braden
Me too. Nothing worse than a porky boy.
Dakota
‘cause you’re a pedo, duh.
He sees Braden’s grim face. He grins, glances at Montana.
Dakota
Gran warned us about pedos at the mall. There’s like four regulars.
Braden
Better give them a wide berth.
(smirks, whispers)
They’d give up a nut to fuck a boy with your looks.
Montana
You want to do us in the butt, too, Uncle Brade.
Dakota
Dickhead! I said he’s different. He loves us.
Montana shrugs, eats his Rooty-Tooty-Fresh-and-Fruity pancakes, colors in. He looks up.
Montana
You never said how we earn shotgun, Uncle Brade.
Dakota nudges him, shakes his head, his voice low.
Dakota
Remember, we’re s’posed to call him Dad when people are around.
Braden checks the booth behind him. He lowers his voice.
Braden
Calling me pedo is okay though?
Dakota
I’m kiddin’. Anyway, I didn’t say it out loud.
Braden
You really think I’m a pedo? If so, we’ll turn around right now.
Dakota
(shakes head, blinks)
I’m jokin’. I’m sorry, okay. You’re almost our dad.
Braden
Saying it at all is really dumb.
Dakota
I didn’t mean it. Real dumb, huh?
Braden takes a long deep breath.
Braden
Okay, guys, this is how it is. Yeah, I want to do sex stuff with you, but that doesn’t make me a pedo. I really love both of you.
Montana
We love you, too, don’t we Kota?
Braden
I’ll never force you; and I sure as heck won’t hurt you. Fact is, I know you’ll enjoy every second.
He reaches out, his hands open. The boys exchange looks, put their hands in his. He clasps them. His voice cracks.
Braden
I think you should call me dad from now on. Not just in public, everywhere. It’s safer that way.
Dakota
No way! You’re not our dad and you never will be.
Montana
Grandma said it’s only when people can hear us.
Braden
(sighs)
Guys, okay. It’s Dad in public.
Dakota
(sighs back at him)
If I can call you Pedo in private
Braden
(nods reluctantly)
I want us to have a good time and come back better for it. We’ll have Wilde-school every day
Dakota
But it’s summer! As in vacation?
Braden
Starting now, no more Grandma-speak! Yes, I do it too. Montana asked about shotgun. You earn Wilde points each day. You keep score. The next day, the winner gets to ride up front.
Montana
So points for school, being good, and helping you?
Braden chuckles. He releases their hands, picks up a red crayon.
Braden
You also get naughty points.
The boys look on as he draws an erection on the kids’ menu, scribbles ‘cock.’ He adds hairy balls. They burst into giggles.
Dakota
(smirks, whispers)
So points for doin’ sex stuff?
Braden nods. He leans across the table, takes their hands again, warm and soft, seeming even smaller. They grin at each other.
MontAnA
(whispers)
How much for corn-holing?
Braden looks Heavenward. He smiles.
Braden
If and when you’re ready, willing, and able, the basic rate is 25 points, the same for reading a book.
He takes a last swig of coffee, checks his credit card is back in his wallet, grabs the colored-in menus and crayons, and stands. He follows the boys out of the restaurant.
SCENE INT Wilde Thing mOTORhome – Later
Braden takes the next-to-last exit off I-90 before leaving Wyoming and crossing into Montana. Ranchester is ranch country, flat. Nothing worth seeing, including the T-Rex museum.
They eat ham and cheese sandwiches in the motorhome, radio blaring Outlaw Country, window shades closed to block the sun.
Braden’s beyond infatuation, in-your-face boy-lover, constantly glancing at Kota and Tana. He stretches, leans back, hands behind his head.
Braden
First Wilde weenie I see gets a shotgun point. Two for a boner.
Dakota stops chewing. A moment later, both boys scramble out of the settee. Montana skips his zip, yanking down carpenter shorts and boring white undies. He shrieks:
Montana
Me by a mile!
Braden just nods as his heart skips a beat. The youngest weenie is a fat little finger dangling down, no balls to speak of, just bumps in a loose fold of skin.
Beside him, Dakota rubs his hand over his privates. Not from shame; having fun. He compares, his hand in a fist with his thumb pointing up.
Two years apart, one limp, the other erect, yet there’s no real difference between them, not down there. Two stubby penises, each with the standard Wilde look, cut high to show off the helmet, tight so it always stood up.
Braden (V.O.)
Poor kid’s awfully small for a boned-up 11-year-old. Still…
He squeezes the thumb, smiles at Dakota.
Braden
Same size, same curve, huh?
Dakota
You can touch it if you want.
Braden
You want bonus points?
Dakota regards him, frowns, shakes his head.
Dakota
I’m just sayin’. It’s okay to feel me up, that’s all.
Braden
Poor thing. You’re all sexed up, aren’t you?
He looks Dakota in the eye, glances down. As big as the boy’s thumb, his ruddy erection sticks out, twitches.
Braden
I know I shouldn’t ask, and you don’t have to answer, okay?
(hesitates)
Sometimes, brothers mess around, have sex, especially if they’re as close as you two are.
Dakota and Montana exchange glances. Dakota murmurs:
Dakota
We do stuff sometimes, at night.
Montana
In the barn, too.
Braden
(winks at both)
Better your brother than some pedo in the mall, I suppose.
He turns to Montana, nods, gestures, gives him a thumbs-up. Montana cups his older brother’s dick and balls, fondling. He grins at Braden.
Braden
It’s nice of Tana to make you feel good. Your dad and I used to do it all the time. It brought us closer together.
Shorts and undies at their knees, the boys face each other, not dominant and passive, as equals, self-assured and sensuous, offering, arching their lean tawny backs, little projecting pricks hungry for pleasure.
ScEnE iNT Wilde Motorhome - later
Braden heads east on Route 14. Dakota sits on the settee, laptop open. Wilde school has him searching for a place to camp, any number of campgrounds in Bighorn National Forest.
He makes a table with categories, assesses and scores each campground, learning to think critically at barely eleven.
Montana rides shotgun, T-shirt off and dozing in the sun coming through the big tinted windscreen.
Montana
Can I, may I take off my pants? There’s almost no other cars.
Braden
Sure, if you stay low. Keep your pants handy in case we’re pulled over.
Dakota
(from behind)
Keep your eyes on the road, Pedo!
Braden chuckles, peeking as Montana unbuttons, unzips, lifts up his butt. Carpenter shorts and white undies drape the center console.
braden
Hey Kota, Route 14 just got listed as a scenic highway.
Six mile markers pass, Montana and Junior asleep in the sun. Braden’s self-control fails. He strokes a smooth soft thigh, little finger extended to prod small sweaty balls.
Suddenly, he’s aware Dakota’s standing behind him. He’s nervous and naked, no thumbs-up needed.
Dakota
When you said you wanted to do sex stuff with us, did you mean, you know… um, corn-holing?
BRADEN
If you’re ready, willing, and able, there’s nothing I want to do more. It’ll be a while though.
Dakota
How long is your while, like a coupla days?
Braden gives an encouraging nod, points up.
Braden
I never said this, okay? A boy’s able at Tana’s age. It might be a year, or a month before he’s ready and willing. Then again, it might be tomorrow…
Dakota
You going to corn-hole him, if he is?
braden
When he’s ready; if he wants it.
Dakota
You going to treat us the same?
Braden
You’re older and bigger so you get special treatment.
Dakota smiles shyly, scratches his neck, runs pretty-boy fingers through long blond locks.
Dakota
Can I ask you a question? It’s kinda embarrassing. You don’t have to answer.
(peeks at Braden)
You sucked my dad’s dick when you were kids, right?
Braden
We did it a lot, probably more than most brothers.
Dakota
Next question. Um… Did you um, you know, suck Grampa’s dick?
braden
Now and then. Mostly, I sucked your dad.
dakota
What’s it like; sucking a dick?
Braden hesitates as if he has to think about it.
Braden
It depends. Most boy dicks are cute; small, kinda sweet, nice.
Dakota
What about, um, sucking a man?
Braden
Let’s just say it’s a big step for a kid, real big.
(smiles)
Practice on Tana for a while.
He glances back. Dakota is boned, fiddles with it nervously. Braden senses the moment, lowers his voice.
Braden
Some boys can’t live without a man’s cock in their mouths. Like your dad, he enjoyed it way more than I did. Your grandpa used to say he was born to suck cock.
Dakota
Don’t get mad, okay? Can I see him, your cock? May I?
Braden chuckles, nods, and lifts the armrest.
Braden
I’m busy driving. You want to see him, you’ll have to get him out.
Dakota kneels on the carpet, scrunches against the console, fumbles with Braden’s belt buckle.
Braden leans back. Dakota uses both hands, opens the clasp, the zipper, makes space. He reaches into the gap, grasps the stiffening penis, manipulates it into view, takes his hand away.
Dakota
Hi Uncle Brad’s pedo-cock.
(giggles)
You’re really, really big.
Braden
He’s a tad bigger than Big Bird.
Dakota
(grins)
When will I be this big?
Braden
Never, I hope.
Dakota giggles as he sees his brother’s wide-open eyes. They squint as he leans, reaches, stops a half-inch away.
Dakota
Wow! He got huge fast.
Braden
Your dad called it Beastie. I was the same size as Big Bird at your age. It’s why Grandpa bought it, so he’d always remember.
Dakota inspects, still not touching. He grins, eyes wide. Montana peeks.
Dakota
That’s wild! Can I feel him?
Braden
Yes, you *may*.
Dakota makes his ‘idiot’ face, demented, cross-eyed, funny. He extends his forefinger and lightly strokes the shaft.
Dakota
My friend, Shay, he says when you touch it, you get excited, and your heart beats faster. You get an erection because blood flows into your dick and stays there. That right?
Braden
You’ve got the magic touch, Babe.
Dakota
He’s really hard now.
Braden
That’s your doing. The more excited I get, the harder he gets.
Dakota nods absently. He touches the tip of the now erect penis, lifts off a filament. He grins, licks his fingertip.
Delighted, Braden tousles the boy’s mane, gold like the swirl and whirl patterns in the curtains.
Braden
Better not tell Tana you did that.
Dakota giggles at the inference, glances at his brother, shyly licks his lips as he studies Braden’s erection.
Braden
I think you’ve done enough touching for one day.
Braden tucks his penis under his boxers, tugs up his zipper. Dakota stares longingly.
Braden
You find somewhere good to stay?
Dakota
Porcupine Campground. It’s like an hour away, in the middle of Bighorn National Forest. Nice; no hookups, but.
Braden nods, adjusts cruise control. He watches the speedometer needle settle at 60 mph before he glances across the console. Montana seems asleep.
Braden
Tana doesn’t need to know, okay?
FADE OUT
END EPISODE 1.