Sammy wasn’t even entirely sure what he wanted from Ed. He had heard all the locker room talk about the girls who were easy, who’d put out on Saturday night, then turn around and be all fresh and virginal on Sunday morning. He had seen a few dirty magazines, and there were rumors of films that actually showed tits and ass, but Sammy didn’t put much stock in those rumors. And he had grown up on a farm. He’d been watching the animals fuck since he was old enough to walk. Sex really had no surprises for him.
Except that he didn’t want to have sex with any of the girls he knew in high school.
He wanted to have sex with Ed. When he got himself off, he thought about Ed working on the farm, without a shirt, his skin brown and glistening beneath the unforgiving sun. He thought about the way Ed smelled after a hard day’s work—the strong, musty scent of his skin, and dirt, and sweat. His hair damp, hanging over his brow. His full mouth parted so he could catch his breath, his dark lashes—almost as long as a girl’s—shielding his eyes. Ed had always kind of reminded Sam of a girl. His features had always been a little too thin, a little too fine for a boy’s. But at some point after their junior year, Ed had gone through a transformation. Now the details that had always been a little off seemed absolutely perfect. He could be an actor. Sammy didn’t have a hard time imagining him on a giant movie screen.
He didn’t have a hard time imagining Ed in any situation. Which was part of his problem.
“Fucking jerk. Fucking asshole. Who the fuck does he think he is?”
Sammy started to walk faster as he spoke, until he was moving at a brisk jog, his feet splashing through deepening puddles and sending tiny droplets of water flying every direction. Not that they made a big difference in the rain. Lightning danced around him, splitting the sky into ragged pieces, like a jigsaw puzzle barely held together. The air buzzed with electricity, making his arms and the back of his neck itch. Thunder boomed again and again, until all the sound rolled together and there wasn’t a moment of silence. Nothing was still. Sammy could barely hear himself, or the litany of curses falling from his mouth.
That was why he reacted on instinct when he felt a sudden hand on his right shoulder. He swung with his left fist, his knuckles connecting with the soft skin at the corner of Ed’s mouth.
“What the fuck was that for?” Blood was already rolling down Ed’s face, turning pink as it smeared with the rain.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
The words were cut off by five hard knuckles slamming into his lips. The rich, bitter coppery taste coated his tongue, and he spat into the water at his feet. One hand curled into a tight fist, and he knew if he took his swing, he would lay Ed flat. Right there on the side of the road, with the lighting slashing the air around them. Ed might have seen that very thought on Sammy’s face, because he dropped back in a defensive position, arms raised in front of his face.
Sammy raised his fist again, but he didn’t strike. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I came to get you. You’re not going to make it to Wendover before dark. And it’s too dangerous out here.”
“I’m fine. Get back to your car.”
“Come on. You can dry off at the car.”
“Fuck you.”
Ed wiped his mouth, but there was still more pinkish liquid welling up over his lip. It stained the front of his shirt. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Just come back to the car.”
“I told you I’d get the car fixed.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid, Ed, okay? You’re going to get sick out here. You should stay with your car.”
“You want me to get back to the car, then you’ve got to walk me back.”
Sammy spat on the ground, leaving a small crimson pool that quickly washed away. “Why are you so fucking stubborn?”
“I’m not the one who…Look, I’m sorry, all right? Shit.”
“Get back to your car, or I’ll knock you out and drag you back there.” Sammy didn’t know if he meant it or not. He never wanted to hurt Ed, but sometimes he couldn’t exactly think clearly around him.
“I’d like to see you try it.”
“Aren’t you bleeding enough?”
“You’re the one with the split lip.”
Sammy growled and took a swing. It was supposed to be a warning, but the pressure of flesh against his fists, the warmth of skin beneath the cold rain, pushed him too far. Heat flashed through his body, and he wanted more. He wanted his muscles to burn. He wanted to exhaust himself.
Ed hit the pavement, water sluicing over him. As soon as Sammy looked down, the urge to fight drained from him. Despite his recently acquired muscles, Ed still seemed smaller than him. Still seemed like somebody who needed his protection. The heat of the fight was overwhelmed, washed out, by cold terror.
“Ed? Jesus. I’m sorry. I am. I…are you okay?” He bent, leaning close to continue his apologies over the roar of the thunder. “Ed?”
Ed moved without warning, slamming his head into Sammy’s face. It wasn’t quite enough to draw blood, but the pain was immense. Sammy caught his breath, and each time he blinked, more pain roared through him. He stumbled backward, into the road, and Ed jumped to his feet like the previous blow had barely been a sting.
“You want to fight me?” Ed demanded.
“I want you to go back to your car!” The words were muddled by his swelling lips.
“I already told you I’m not going to go back by myself.” Ed put his hands up, bent his knees, and squared his shoulders. “If you
