Kyle walked slowly through the scorching heat, determined to get a little down time during his first leave since being assigned to this base. But as he had discovered, August in southwestern Oklahoma was a far cry from his central Wisconsin suburban background. The heat was relentless, each day fused to the next with highs over 100 degrees.
But Kyle hadn't joined the Army for the normal reasons of duty and honor, although he believed in those ideas. He'd joined hoping the Army would cure him, to make him into a man instead of a fag who liked guys. For as long as he could remember he'd been drawn to guys, and as he got older he realized that it wasn't normal to be attracted to someone of the same sex. After puberty, the pull had become almost unbearable. In high school he'd resisted the urges, dated girls and had actually gotten a reputation as a player since he never dated a girl very long.
Having escaped high school with his secret intact, he'd hoped that college would be the time he'd leave these unnatural feeling behind. But his roommate had been on the college lacrosse team and was well over six feet tall with rippling muscles. The sight of Clint walking around the room naked on a daily basis left Kyle in a near constant state of arousal. After one particular drunken episode, Kyle woke to the dim memories of sucking a cock, and the faint taste of cum. In a panic, Kyle had left school and enlisted. He'd told his parents that he needed some time before college, but Kyle had hoped the military would cure him.
But it had only gotten worse. Surrounded with hot young guys on a daily basis was only making Kyle into a walking erection. Some of the guys had even started teasing him about needing a woman so his morning wood didn't last until nightfall. He was hoping a little time away from the barracks would help. Kyle desperately needed something to change.
Pausing to look for the hallmark blue door of the bar, he spotted it through the simmering heat only a block or so away. He quickened his pace and was soon grabbing the scorching hot handle and yanking the door open. Kyle stepped into the inky blackness and let the door shut behind him. Pausing to let his eyes adjust to the dim light, Kyle enjoyed the chill of refrigerated air across his sweat-drenched skin. As he'd hoped, the bar was largely deserted on a hot Saturday afternoon. The only other person in the room was a damn cowboy listlessly knocking around the balls on one of the pool tables.
The sight of the cowboy just served to make his already bad mood deteriorate. It hadn't taken Kyle long after arriving in Oklahoma to realize he intensely disliked the locals. They were all backward southern rednecks so far as he was concerned, and he really didn't want to get to know any of them. A few had tried to strike up a conversation with him, but he had cut them off quickly, making it clear that he wasn't anyone's buddy, son, friend, dude, or any other homey expression, all of which he hated. He didn't want friendly, he didn't want homey. Regardless of what anyone else might feel, Kyle didn't find the quaint country folk persona at all appealing.
Kyle walked to the bar and ordered a beer. Raising the glass to his lips, he drained half of it without stopping, it's icy content going a long way to improving his disposition. After only a few minutes, he had emptied his first glass and motioned to the bartender for a second. Leaving money on the bar, Kyle walked over and watched the cowboy while savoring his second beer. As he watched, he realized this guy was about the same age as himself, which lessened his distaste some. Lining up his last shot, the cowboy finished his game, glanced up to Kyle and nodded.
"Hey, interested in a game?"
"Sure, why not. Name's Kyle."
"Ian. Pleased to me ya, Kyle," came the reply, "What's your pleasure?"
"Eight-ball."
Ian smiled and handed Kyle the rack, "Rack 'em, dude."
Kyle quickly setup the game. As they played, Kyle was surprised to find that he was relaxing in Ian's company. Afternoon melted into evening with a few more people wandering into the bar. Kyle was actually enjoying the companionship with Ian, the evening slid past as they played game after game. At some point in the evening, Kyle had started ordering tequila shots for the two of them, but he drank the lion's share of the liquor. Eventually the bartender cut him off, much to his distain.
"Fuckers!" slurred Kyle, "They cud jess give'm my fuck'n drink."
"It's ok, Kyle. It's probably time for us to both head home," said Ian.
"Fuck. Whatever. Base's close, I walked."
"You sure you don't need a ride?" asked Ian.
"Soldiers don't get rides!" Kyle said, and then giggled. "Oops, that wasn't a manly laugh was it." He stammered out.
Ian chuckled at the drunken soldier, wondering if he should let Kyle walk back. Looking up, he saw Kyle stumbling toward the door. Quickly he put away their cues and raced after him. Kyle barely made it through the doorway before he had to catch himself on the door frame to keep from falling face first onto the concrete sidewalk. Ian chuckled as he took Kyle by the arm to steady him.
"Easy there. I'm not sure you can walk a few feet, much less a few miles. Come on, you can crash on my couch tonight and I'll drive you back to the base tomorrow."
"I kin walk . . ." Kyle said with a slur.
"Come on, Private. Let's get you to bed before you pass out," said Ian. With that, Ian wedged his shoulder under Kyle's armpit, then brought his arm around Ian's shoulders. Almost carrying Kyle, he managed to get the very inebriated man to his pickup. Yanking open the door, Ian shoved Kyle into the seat and buckled him in for the ride home. Ian had a vague worry that he might have taken on more than he could deal with, but he couldn't leave Kyle to fend for himself as drunk as he was.
