DISCLAIMER: You are about to read a story that is strictly FAN FICTION and in no way represents true accounts. I do not - nor do I wish to imply that - I know Jake Gyllenhaal, his private life or his sexual preferences. This is also true of all other celebrities represented in this story. This is a work of fiction based in homo-eroticism, so if you are not of legal age, or if this type of content might offend you, please move onto something else.
For everyone else - ENJOY! --------------------------------------------------------------------
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And now, onto Part 5 . . .
Katy was sitting on the front porch swing of Travis's bunkhouse when we returned from the mountain. She was huddled with her knees up, draped in an over-sized sweatshirt, her eyes red and puffy from crying. To my surprise, Travis said nothing to her, simply pushed the door open and stepped right past her into the darkened house.
I hesitated on the porch, feeling as though I should at least acknowledge her presence. She looked at me expectantly, and I said, "It's cold out here."
From her expression, it had not been the words she'd been hoping for. She sniffled and shifted her legs, letting them drop to the floor so that she could push the swing. She no longer appeared as provocative or mature as she had earlier, dressed in sweatpants, her makeup worn-off, hair pulled up into a sloppy ponytail, pink fuzzy slippers covering her small feet. Although she'd caused such distress earlier, I felt rather sorry for her. She was just a kid.
Travis swung the door back open and leaned against the frame, arms crossed. He'd removed his coat and boots and stood there in his stockinged feet, glaring at Katy. "Haven't you had enough confrontation for one day?" he demanded.
She stopped swinging long enough to protest, "I'm not looking for a fight!"
"Then go back to the house. Go to bed."
She sniffled again but made no move to leave. When she spoke, her voice was soft, frail, childlike. "I just came to apologize."
"To Jake?" he said.
She glanced from her brother to me as if alarmed by the mere suggestion. Even I was caught off-guard.
"He deserves an apology, too, Katy," Travis insisted.
I threw up a hand. "Hey, look, don't worry about -"
But Travis cut me off mid-sentence. "Apologize to Jake," he commanded her. "Then maybe we can talk."
She looked miserable, like a kicked cat. Softly, she said to me, "I'm sorry, Jake."
"Hey, it's no problem," I assured her. I meant it.
Instantly, the tension in the air began to disperse. Relieved by this, I quietly excused myself, wanting to give them both some privacy, and headed over to the next bunkhouse. From the shadows Derry appeared, sniffing and yipping at my heels, and I ushered her inside, happy for the company.
The room was freezing cold when I entered. I searched for matches to start a fire in the stove but realized that there was no kindling anyway, and so decided to just leave my coat on. I stepped into the small bathroom and flipped on the overhead light, which was just a bare light bulb with a string hanging from it. There wasn't a bar of soap to be found. I took a piss and had to content myself with running my hands under freezing cold water, followed by wiping them on my jeans, because there was also no towel to be found.
I entered back into the main room, Derry following me, and took a seat on the squeaky bed where my overnight bag sat. From inside, my cell phone was chirping, informing me that I had messages. I'd forgotten I'd even dropped it in there. Funny how, when caught up in so many other things, I hadn't missed the appendage.
I thought about Melissa and wondered if she'd had enough willpower to refrain from calling me again. Decided it probably wasn't very fair of me to ignore her and so plucked the phone from amongst my clothes. I noted several missed phone calls, including another one from my mother, but Melissa was not among them. I had to admit that her restraint was commendable.
Even though it was late in California, I knew she'd want to speak to me no matter what time of day, so I pressed the button for her number. It rang three times and then I heard her say, "Hi, sunshine, thought maybe you'd forgotten about me."
I laughed. "Oh, Mel, I could never forget about you."
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Immensely."
"Going to tell me where you are?"
"No."
"Do you have a fax number at least?"
I hesitated. "No." Felt a slight pang of guilt for the dishonesty, but continued on. "Just send it directly to the hotel, okay? They can hold it for me until I get back."
"Which will be?"
"The day after tomorrow."
She sighed. I could hear her scribbling something onto a piece of paper.
"Well," she eventually said, "I appreciate you calling me back, my dear."
"You're welcome, my dear."
"And have fun doing whatever it is you're doing . . . Wherever it is you are."
I chuckled. "Thanks, Mel."
"Have a good night."
"You, too."
I disconnected and took a moment to send a text message to my mother, apologizing for not returning her calls, letting her know about our change of plans to be at the ranch, although by then I was fairly certain Maggie had already conversed with her. Then I sifted through the various other messages listed, and, noting nothing urgent, flipped the phone shut and tossed it back into my bag.
I scratched Derry behind the ears for a moment, staring off into nothing. Then I yawned and laid back on the bed, my hands behind my head, my hiking boots touching the floor. I gazed up to the ceiling and noticed that it was covered in hardwood planks, just like the floor, but painted in eggshell white. I started counting cobwebs, reaching fifteen before drifting off into a light sleep. When I awoke, the room hadn't changed, but Derry was snoozing at my feet I was colder than I'd been before. In an attempt to warm myself I stood up and began to circle the room.
I paused at the Playboy calendar and began to flip through each month, noting with some pleasure the curvaceous women in their various poses. One in particular had exceptionally beautiful breasts, with flaming red hair and a face full of freckles. She held an air of innocent seduction about her, as though she was a virgin, yet willing to play. It was a captivating observation, one which brought with it the self-revelation that I hadn't yet gone completely homo.
I continued to study the picture with some veneration until the front door scraped open and Travis stepped inside, Derry immediately rushing over. I felt like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar and quickly dropped the calendar page from my fingers.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," I replied. "Everything all right between you and Katy now?"
He was still in his stockinged feet, no coat on. "Yeah. For now. It's fucking freezing in here." He rubbed his arms.
"I know," I said. "I couldn't find any matches."
"I thought you'd gone up to the house," he commented.
Funny, but that option hadn't even entered my mind. "Oh well," I shrugged, "I figured I'd go ahead and get settled in here." But I hadn't unpacked a single thing yet, and Travis noticed this.
"You weren't really expecting to sleep in here, were you?" he asked.
I just looked at him.
"Aw, come on!" he laughed, striding over to me. "I never intended for you to actually stay in this flea-infested place!" He swiped my bag from the bed and prompted me to grab my snowboard.
We returned to his bunkhouse, Derry close in tow. During my absence Travis had dimmed the lights and started a fire in the wood-burning stove, which was fully ablaze now, permeating an almost suffocating heat across the room. After dropping my bag, Travis stooped to shut the flue and the height of the flames dropped considerably.
The bottle of Jack Daniels and our two shot glasses from earlier remained on the table where we'd left them. Travis poured one and offered it to me, but I held up a hand to decline, my stomach twisting at the thought. "I think my body's had enough liquor for a single twenty-four period," I complained.
He looked at me for a moment as if deciding whether or not I was joking, and then he shrugged and swallowed the whiskey himself. "A little night cap," he explained. He sauntered over to the stereo and plucked a record from one of the crates. The sultry voice of Billie Holiday soon poured softly from the speakers.
Travis took a seat on the couch, leaning back casually, one stockinged foot propped up on the other, an arm draped loosely across the cushion, head slightly tilted back.
Again, he held that devil-may-care attitude about him.
My immediate instinct was to tackle him, but for some unknown reason I refrained, shrugging out of my coat instead. I took a seat in the big armchair and leaned down to unlace and remove my boots.
"So are you still up for snowboarding tomorrow?" he asked me.
I nodded. "Absolutely."
"Great. We'll plan to leave after breakfast. Mom'll expect us at the house around eight."
I nodded again. "Okay."
A moment passed. I absently watched Derry curl up on a large plaid doggy bed in the corner and proceeded to stare off into space until Travis patted the couch cushion and softly said, "Come over here. You're too far away."
I slid from the chair and moved over to the couch to sit beside him but subconsciously leaned away, crossing one leg over the other, resting my elbow on a throw pillow. My body language indicated a coyness I didn't feel, and I couldn't fathom why I was doing it.
Travis didn't blink an eye, as if nothing at all were amiss. He simply slid right into conversation again. "Your sister and Peter sure seem like great people."
"Yeah," I replied. "They really are."
"Maggie's pregnant?"
I looked at him in surprise. "How did you know?"
Maggie was only in her first trimester, hardly showing. And since we hadn't discussed the topic yet with Travis, I wasn't sure when or how he'd obtained his information. I remembered Maggie's entrance into my room this morning, commenting on how one should never keep a pregnant lady waiting; Travis had been across the room at the time, still waking up, but perhaps it was possible that he'd heard it.
"Call it instinct," Travis said. "When you've lived around livestock your whole life, you just kind of know these things."
I laughed at the unusual statement and said, "Are you actually comparing Maggie to livestock?"
He chuckled. "No. But we're all living creatures, placed on this earth to procreate. So, in a way - yes, I guess I am comparing your sister to livestock. But, hey, she's FAR prettier than some of the cows I've seen."
I laughed in unison with him, thinking it was one of the most peculiar metaphors I'd ever heard. Then his comment concerning procreation hit me, and I quieted down for a moment to contemplate it.
Travis sensed my mood change and said, "What's up?"
"Do you really think everyone's placed on this earth to procreate?"
He threw out an arm and mocked in a booming voice, "Go forth and populate the earth, my son." Then added in his normal vernacular, "Or something like that."
"Even you?" I asked curiously.
He studied me for a moment, perhaps deciding what direction I was coming from. Then he leaned in a little closer and said, "Just because my purpose is to procreate doesn't mean I have to fulfill that duty."
"Wow . . ." I shook my head, baffled. "That's heavy. You make humans sound like animals."
"We are. In essence."
I was perplexed. "What?"
He smiled. "Look, don't take it so seriously. I just have an odd view of the world. We may be far more intelligent than other species, but you can't deny that we live our lives thinking about, searching for and committing the act of sex, just like all other creatures. Everything we do revolves around it, even though we may deny it, even though we're capable of walking, talking and thinking in abstract terms. Wouldn't you agree?"
I grinned, still perplexed. "That's fucking crazy, man."
"Is it?"
I thought about his twisted Freudian-inspired philosophy for a moment, mulling it over in my mind, trying to view it from his perspective. To reduce humans to mere animals seemed nothing short of ludicrous. And yet . . .. perhaps he had a point . . . sort of. Lord knows my thoughts and actions centered around sex an awful lot.
Travis moved in closer, filling the gap between us on the couch. He tucked a leg up beneath him and propped his arm on the cushion behind my head. I turned to him, and his sea-green eyes explored my face, studying me intently. I felt myself being pulled into his gaze as if being pulled into a magnet, and mild excitement swelled in my stomach. Staring into his eyes was an incredible feeling; he embodied this sort of inexplicable depth, like the pages of an encyclopedia longing to be explored.
"Had you ever considered being with a guy before you met me?" he asked.
It was a curveball, pulling me from my state of blissfulness to momentary uncertainty. "Um . . ." I paused. "Not consciously."
"No?"
I swallowed. Hesitated. I wanted to be honest and tell him that occasionally I'd flirted with fantasies about homosexuality in the privacy of my own thoughts, but I simply couldn't bring myself to admit it out loud. So, instead, I said, "There have been a few instances, here and there, when I've felt an inexplicable magnetism towards a guy." I immediately thought of Heath. Tried to shut it out. "But I never analyzed it," I continued. "Just pushed it away."
"Because you never wanted to believe you could have that tendency," Travis added, as if finishing my sentence. I knew that he was speaking from personal experience.
"Yeah," I nodded.
"Well, I'm flattered that you've chosen me to be your first, then." He lightly pinched my earlobe between a thumb and forefinger, his eyes alight, a slight upturned grin illustrating his words.
I placed a hand on the curve of his leg and said, "Trust me, Travis, I didn't get a chance to consider it that objectively. I mean, 'me choosing you' sounds so . . . absurd. I would say it's more like we happened upon each other, you know?"
He rubbed at my earlobe harder, as if distracted by another thought, and caused a slight but not altogether objectionable burning sensation on my skin. "Do you even realize how fucking amazing your lips are?" he breathed after a moment, and then leaned in to gently kiss me.
His lips lingered only briefly before he pulled away. We sat looking at each other, softly inhaling and exhaling, our eyes fervently focused. When we kissed again, it was long and impassioned, tongues encircling, saliva dampening our mouths. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders to bring him in closer, and he began to slide me down, straddling above me, his legs rolling over onto mine.
Although I found myself enjoying the sensation of being squashed beneath his sturdy frame, I felt a genuine desire to lead this time around and so pressed a hand against his chest, whispering, "It's my turn now, cowboy." An asinine, yet accurate, expression.
Travis didn't argue. Allowed me to gently push him back to slide his shirt up, my fingertips lightly tickling the hair in his armpits before pulling the garment completely over his head. After tossing the shirt aside I proceeded to remove my own, and then I urged Travis back onto the cushions. He rested his head on one of the throw pillows and watched in silence as I unbuckled his belt and opened each button of his fly with exact precision. He was still wearing the blue checkered boxer shorts from last night, and I noticed the tip of his erect cock poking out from the top of the elastic band. I gingerly ran a finger over it and felt him flinch ever so slightly. I had never held another cock outside of my own - had only considered it in a few fleeting fantasies - but now that the situation had presented itself, I was eager to move forward.
I pulled the pants and boxers down over his hips, and his cock flapped up against his stomach. The length was much more than I'd imagined, and as I encircled it in the palm of my hand and began to massage it, its length increased even further. Travis exhaled and slid a hand behind his head, his eyes concentrating on my every move.
I scooted down until my elbows were perched on either side of his hips, my face inches above his erection. Being this close I could smell the musky scent of his manhood; it was stimulating and erotic and succeeded in furthering my desire. I encircled my hand around the base of the hard shaft and slid the head of it into my mouth, tasting the remarkable flavor of Travis's pre-cum on my tongue. I wanted to swallow him whole the same way he had swallowed me whole earlier, but there was just no way to take him all in; when the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat, my gag reflexes automatically reacted, causing me to choke.
Travis rested a hand on the back of my head and whispered, "Just take it slow."
But I was instantly frustrated. How difficult could it be to suck a fucking cock? Out of pure stubbornness and determination, I attempted it again, this time easing him in and out more slowly, trying to find a rhythm, concentrating on relaxing my throat muscles. Travis groaned slightly, enjoying it, his hips gyrating in time to my sucking. But then he absently pushed himself in farther, wanting more. I wasn't expecting it and gagged again, this time harder, and Travis cupped the nape of my neck with both hands to lift my face. His cock slid from my mouth. "Come here," he coaxed, pulling me up to lie on top of him.
I was frustrated, could taste a hint of bile in my mouth, but Travis seemed undaunted. He pulled me close, kissed me, and whispered, "Don't worry about it. Just lie here with me for a minute."
The first side of the record had ended, and so we lay together, just listening to the sound of our breathing and the muted crackle of the fire. Travis ran his hands over my back, his lips lightly grazing my forehead. It had a calming effect on me, and as I relaxed, I slid a hand down the length of his stomach to encircle his cock once more. It was still fairly erect, and my desire to take him in my mouth again was overwhelming.
But as I rolled off from him and made to resume my task, Travis sat forward. Stood from the couch, pulling me with him, and embraced me, nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck. His lips and tongue gently sucked at the skin there, sending new chills through me, and I hugged him.
He stepped back long enough to shake out of his pants, boxers and socks, kicking everything aside, and then persuaded me to do the same. It was such an odd sensation, standing there naked with him, our erections saluting one another. Travis grabbed me by the hands and walked backwards to the bed, tripping only once over a bundle of jeans, his eyes completely focused on mine.
We landed together against the mattress, the thick quilts hollowing out beneath us. Travis pulled me on top of him, drowning me in another kiss. Our hips rubbed together and the hardness between our legs connected like electricity, sending a wave of pleasure through me.
I hungrily sucked at his mouth, pushing his leg aside so that I could nestle further against his groin. He moaned and slid a hand down to squeeze my buttocks, his fingers running deeply along the length of my crack. I shuddered, and he abruptly rolled me over onto my back, positioning himself above me.
"You're fucking amazing . . ." he muttered, nuzzling his face in my neck once more, gently nibbling on my earlobe. He traveled downwards, dotting my chest with kisses, licking my nipples, finally reaching my cock. I was far beyond aroused by now, and when Travis took me in his mouth, I groaned loudly, arching my hips upward.
I could feel sweat popping out across my forehead, my breath becoming ragged as he swallowed me whole again. This time, I felt determined not to reach ejaculation right away. But as Travis's mouth continued to rise and fall over me, I feared it wouldn't be possible.
Once more, I entangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him closer. My heart rate increased rapidly as I panted, mumbling incoherent words, ready to explode. But the sudden sensation of a finger wiggling its way into my asshole abruptly stopped me. I squirmed against it, wanting it to go away, feeling instantly uncomfortable.
Travis released me from his mouth and crawled back on top of me. Gripped my thigh with one hand and pushed it up so that he could rest his erection against the taut skin just above my asshole. As he slowly gyrated, rubbing his shaft back and forth against the sensitive skin, his tongue licked a line between my ribs.
I groaned despite myself. Travis took it as a sign to continue, and so moistened his middle finger with saliva and proceeded to enter it into my asshole again. I didn't outwardly protest, but the sensation was not very pleasant, my rectum instinctively constricting to prohibit him from continuing. Still, he managed to wiggle in further. I gasped slightly, but as he slowly twisted his finger in and out, developing a steady rhythm, my muscles began to relax. Eventually, the sensation of intrusion turned from one of pain to one of pleasure, his finger rubbing against my prostrate, sending tiny surges of ecstasy through me.
But all pleasure abruptly halted when Travis erroneously decided to slide more fingers into my tight hole. Not only was the pain discomfiting, but the mere idea of my asshole being stretched to such limits sent my head reeling. I pushed against his shoulders, gasping, "Stop," trying to wiggle free.
But he didn't stop. Not right away. His breath was heavy, his cock rubbing up against my thigh, his fingers trying to open me up. I grabbed onto his collarbone and demanded him to stop, and after a moment he finally relented and slid his fingers out, leaving me gasping from the release.
He slithered up to bury his face against my ear, his breath white hot against my skin, his hand encircling my dick once more. "I want to be inside you," he panted, pleading, his cock pushing against my thigh again.
My stomach clenched at the mere mention of it, a million images crashing through my mind all at once - images of pain, of violation, of losing control. It wasn't what I wanted. Wasn't what I was ready for. Not now. Panic crept over me like a thick blanket, suffocating me, and I roughly pushed and kicked Travis aside to roll out from beneath him, a torrent of profanities spewing from my mouth.
Somehow, Travis remained calm throughout my tantrum, sitting up to place a hand at the small of my back while I perched on the edge of the bed, leaning forward against my knees, slicing my fingers through my hair, trying to regain my senses.
"I'm sorry," Travis whispered a moment later, kissing my shoulder. "I didn't mean to push you. It's just that . . . you get me so fucking hot. "
I couldn't lift my head from my hands - the aggravation, humiliation and embarrassment too much to handle. I sighed deeply, feeling immense regret for the excessive, completely out-of-line and out-of-character outburst.
We sat together this way for awhile, Travis stroking my back, lightly grazing my neck with his lips, whispering apologies which sounded completely ridiculous, because he shouldn't have been the one apologizing when I'd been the one who had overreacted.
I took several labored breaths and exhaled loudly, releasing my fear through constricted lips. Travis wrapped his arms around me, and I instinctively leaned into him, allowing the tight embrace to comfort me. I buried my face in his hair and smelled the faint aroma of mountain air, cigarettes and sweat. A reassuring scent. Already familiar to me. Promising.
"God, I'm such a fucking ass," I groaned, shaking my head.
Travis turned my face to his, his hands cupping my jaw in a way that had become as familiar to me as his scent. "Don't say that," he insisted, green eyes serious. He kissed the tip of my nose and then my forehead, pulling me down with him onto the quilts.
A significant amount of time passed as we lay there together, my head resting comfortably against his chest while he lightly traced the curve of my outstretched arm with his fingers. I could feel his heartbeat pulsing slightly against my cheek, and somehow it helped to soothe my frazzled nerves.
What had I been I so goddamn afraid of? Travis's intentions were straightforward, honest, no hidden agendas, there was no need to fear him. And yet . . . I had panicked, erroneously thinking that by allowing him to fuck me, I would lose a part of myself. Everything had come to a horrific crescendo in my head, like giant cymbals crashing together, commanding me to stop.
This connection with Travis went far beyond imagination, far beyond reality, far beyond all concept, and perhaps that's what had frightened me the most. Being completely and utterly outside of myself.
"I'm sorry, Travis," I muttered. "I really am. I don't know what came over me, I never lose it like that."
Travis had grown sleepy, but the sound of my voice roused him a little and he pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head. "You don't have to apologize for anything, Jake," he mumbled drowsily. "Just lay here with me."
Eventually, his fingers stopped caressing my arm and I knew that he'd drifted off to sleep.
I pulled him in closer, desperately needing to hold onto him, needing to bury my whole body into his. As I lay there listening to his soft snoring, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath against my forehead, I felt about as close to him as I had ever felt to anyone. And it was a magnificent feeling.
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