Long Way to Go

The eighteen wheeler in front of me had shown symptoms of irregular driving, and I was just contemplating whether to drop the speed to stay back even more. It was raining so heavily it was nearly dark. My attention never would have wandered so far to the edge of the road, if the truck hadn't deliberately swerved to the side to hit a large puddle, splashing someone who jumped back but nevertheless got soaked. Without thinking much, I hit my flashers, eased off the gas and pressed on the brake.

I had been some hundred yards behind the other truck, but my stopping distance still caused me to pass the hitchhiker. From the mirror I saw a figure throwing something over their shoulder and running towards me. The person clambered up the steep steps and slipped inside the cabin.

It was a young man—a boy, almost. He had tight black jeans, which were hugging his scrawny legs even more tightly now that they were thoroughly wet, and a black hoodie. His hair was also black, plastered to his hollow cheeks and over his eyes. He set a battered guitar case and an army green canvas backpack on the floor.

"Thanks for stopping, man," he said. He was reserved, like he was half expecting me to tell him to get out again.

"I saw that asshole splash you," I said.

The hitcher shrugged. "He wasn't the first one. Didn't make that much difference with this weather."

I wondered why he was trying to catch a ride with this relentless rain. What was so urgent he couldn't wait for the rain to pass?

"Where're you heading?" I asked. "You're not underage, are you?"

I still hadn't started moving. The boy looked at me. "I'm twenty-three."

"Really? Can I see some ID?"

The boy snorted but reached for his pocket for a thin black leather wallet and showed me a driver's licence: Benjamin Graham. Judging by the picture, it was probably the same guy, except in the licence photo his eyes were visible. He wasn't smiling in that one, either. Counting from the date of birth, he really was twenty-three.

"Okay, Benjamin," I said. I switched the signals to show I was pulling out, kept my eyes on the mirrors, and started to glide forward to join the traffic again. "Where are you headed?"

Benjamin shrugged. "West. Anything helps."

We were silent for a long moment. That awkwardness was why I usually didn't pick up hitchhikers. I don't mind being alone. I don't need anyone constantly filling the void with chatter. I'm perfectly fine with my own thoughts and whatever is on the radio. The kid didn't talk, and I fell into my own silence, following the light traffic in the hard rain and listening to the radio with half an ear. Occasionally, I glanced at the boy. I thought that maybe I shouldn't think of him as a boy—he was an adult, after all. Maybe I should just call him Benjamin. I wondered if he went by Ben. He probably had, growing up at least. How could he not? Now he looked so angsty "Ben" probably wasn't rugged enough. I guessed he had some cool nickname his friends used.

Benjamin kept staring straight ahead, shivering occasionally. I realized he was cold, being soaking wet like that.

"There's a towel in the sleeper," I said. "It's on a peg on your side. See if you can reach it."

Benjamin glanced at me, then backwards to the sleeper, and then he unbuckled his seat belt to kneel on the bench to reach for the towel. He dried his hair and wrapped the towel around his shoulders. "Thanks, man."

"Want me to turn up the heat? You look like you're freezing."

Benjamin shrugged, but after a while he said, "That would be nice."

I cranked up the heat a notch, and we trundled along. I had almost five hours to go before my driving hours were up for the day, and I had a truck stop north of New Orleans planned for my stay for the night. There was a decent diner and the showers were clean enough.

The radio blasted on and the cabin heated up steadily. Rain eased a little when we drove away from Tallahassee, and Benjamin seemed to relax with each mile we put behind us.

Two hours later, I contemplated taking a piss break. There was a shopping center coming up, and I usually stopped there for that particular purpose. Maybe I was starting to get too hung up on my routines. I hadn't driven that route all that much, but already it felt like the hundredth time.

"Need a pit stop?" I asked Benjamin. "I'll swing over to the shopping center to take a leak. I'll continue to New Orleans after, so you can tag along if you want to."

Benjamin turned his large, dark eyes towards me. His hair had dried up a bit and didn't cover his eyes as closely as before. He had beautiful eyes: deep brown, with long lashes. "I could shop some, if that's okay with you," he said. "And I'd be glad to come along to New Orleans later."

"Okay, just be quick about it," I said as I turned on the signal to take the ramp.

"I'll be back in ten minutes," the kid promised.

I went to the toilet and bought a large coffee to go. Benjamin had left his stuff in the truck, and I wondered if I would need to wait a long time for him to return. I couldn't bring myself to just dump his stuff and continue. I had barely thought it through when he jogged towards me between the parked cars. He had a pharmacy bag and a bottle of water in hand. He looked somehow different, and it took me a while to put it together. The hoodie he had on was nearly identical to the one he'd had earlier, but that one was completely dry. I had a nagging suspicion the kid had shoplifted it.

We continued in silence. Benjamin glanced at me occasionally but still said nothing. It took him a half an hour of fidgeting to say, "So where are you stopping?"

"North of New Orleans. There's a truck stop."

Benjamin nodded. He fidgeted some more and added, "Did you wanna talk about something?"

I glanced at him. He looked back expectantly. "It's all the same," I said. "I don't usually pick up hitchhikers, so I usually drive alone. Not much talking to be done then, either."

The kid chuckled. He didn't say anything more. He rummaged around in his backpack, then produced a small notebook and started to scribble in it, his head bowed low. He was cute, curled up like that, holding the book against his knee when he wrote. I wondered if he was interested in men. I knew some truckers picked up hitchhikers hoping to benefit from their gratitude, but I'd never done that. I had enough difficulties finding partners in less haphazard environments, like gay bars.

It was dark when we pulled into the truck stop. A storm was gathering again, but it wasn't raining yet. I parked at the corner like I usually did, a creature of habit, and turned off the engine. I hesitated, for this was really not my style. For some reason I had taken a liking to the quiet kid and so I asked, "Do you wanna sleep in the truck tonight? It's not gonna be easy to get a ride in the dark."

Benjamin tilted his head. "I would like that," he said. His reply came so fast I could tell he had been thinking about it before I asked. I wondered what, if anything, it meant.

"Okay then," I said. "I'm gonna eat dinner and take a shower. The washrooms are decent here. Are you gonna tag along?"

I meant I wasn't going to leave Benjamin in the truck by himself, and he seemed to understand as much. He nodded and climbed out with his backpack. He followed me into the diner tentatively, but came to sit in the same booth. He read the menu carefully, and I guessed he was comparing which would be the best value for the price. He didn't look like he had much, money-wise.

"The rump steak is good here," I offered. The kid's eyes darted to it and then quickly away again, so I added, "Can I buy you one?"

Benjamin looked at me and then at the menu again. There seemed to be some sort of internal dialogue going on, but when the waiter came to their table and I ordered my steak, Benjamin said he would have the same.

My phone rang in the middle of the slightly uncomfortable silence, after ordering and before receiving the drinks.

"Hi, Mom," I said, and turned to sit sideways. My mom is the mommiest mom of all time, the mother of all mothers. She calls me every day when I'm on the road, just to make sure I'm okay. I pretend to be annoyed that she would insist on coddling a thirty-year-old grown-ass man like that, but to be honest it feels good. It's been a long while since I've been in a steady relationship and having Mom fuss over me makes me feel a little more grounded in the world. I spend so much time on the road alone that I tend to feel a little detached, like I just float around and don't really belong in the same society as everyone else. Sometimes I feel invisible, like nobody affects me and I affect no one. Mom tends to stop all that and yank me back to reality.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm in New Orleans. Just waiting for the food." Mom's voice filled my ears, following her usual line of questions. "Weather was bad, but the drive was okay, stayed on schedule. Picked up a hitchhiker. No, Mom, he's not an ax murderer."

I rolled my eyes in Benjamin's direction. He gave me a slight smile. I had at least fifty pounds on him, all I would have to do to subdue him was to sit on him and he'd be helpless.

"Look, Mom, I have to go, the food's coming. Call you tomorrow, okay? Love you, too."

I put the phone back in my pocket and turned back to the table.

"Sorry about that. My Mom's the mother hen of all mother hens."

"Nothing wrong with that," Benjamin said. There was something he left unsaid, but I didn't have the skill or the inclination to probe further.

We ate in silence, except for Benjamin admitting, after the first mouthful, that the steak was really good.

After eating, we went to the washroom. There were lockers for valuables, lockable cubicles for changing and showering, and a long row of sinks in front of a mirror. After showering, I was standing by the mirror, brushing my teeth, when the kid emerged from one of the cubicles. He wore a t-shirt that was sticking to the damp skin of his narrow chest. My gaze swept his skinny arms and noticed there weren't any needle marks. That was good, at least. Junkies had the tendency to turn into thieves if you were too nice to them.

"You don't have a towel?" I asked after spitting in the sink. "You should've said. I've got a spare, I could've loaned you."

"No need," Benjamin mumbled. "You've been kind enough already."

I shrugged. It was raining by the time we exited the building, and we jogged between the other trucks and climbed quickly inside mine.

My sleeper had a bed four feet wide, but I wasn't about to sleep next to the kid. The passenger's seat folded back enough that it was borderline comfortable, and I gave him a spare blanket and pillow. We settled down and listened to the rain hammering on the roof of the cabin. It made a somewhat relaxing background noise, and after browsing my phone for a bit, I thought I'd give up and try to get a good night's sleep.

I usually took a walk outside before turning in, but since the rain had rendered that impossible, I couldn't immediately get to sleep. I yawned and thought about the route. I was heading to Austin, Texas, where I would arrive tomorrow. I'd spend the required time unloading and hoped to drive back to Houston the same evening. I would reload in Houston the day after and take that load to Colorado Springs. From there, I was heading home to Las Vegas, where I would have two weeks off.

I supposed I would spend most of that time with Mom. She lived only two blocks away from me. I had a circle of friends, but of course they had their own lives. Mom, being retired already, was my most reliable companion while having time off. I didn't mind. I guess I'm a momma's boy through and through. Besides, Mom usually has something around the house that needs taking care of, and I'm happy to help her. She was a single mom, and she used to be fiercely independent when me and my big sisters were kids. She's used to taking care of everything in her house, but now that she's getting old she can't manage the more physical chores anymore.

A small sound interrupted my drifting thoughts. I laid on my side, the way I usually slept, my face towards the back wall of the cabin. Hairs on my neck stood up, and I felt a twinge of uncertainty. What if Benjamin really was an ax murderer? How would I know? I had just picked the kid up, and we had hardly exchanged two words during the whole day. I knew nothing about him. Had it been stupid to ask him to spend the night? I didn't know why he agreed. It felt like a good idea at the time.

By the sound of it Benjamin was definitely moving in the dark. My neck prickled, and I wondered how I should react. I was thinking I would have to turn around at the least, so I could see what he was up to, when I felt a tentative touch on my arm.

"Roy?" Benjamin whispered.

I turned to look up at him. He was a silhouette in the dusk, his eyes gleaming. He looked down at me, then sat at the edge of the bed and bent down to kiss me.

I was so taken by surprise it took me a while to answer the kiss. Benjamin was waiting for me, his lips polite and hesitant. The second I kissed him back he heated up, got hungry and aggressive. I touched his hair tentatively. It was softer than it seemed. His neck was warm and fit my hand exactly when I pulled him closer. He felt fantastic.

Benjamin pulled away to catch his breath. He was a pale shape in the near darkness. He didn't have his shirt on. I touched his arm and my hand was like a wrap of darkness swallowing a part of him. His skin was smooth and cool. I traced the lines of his lithe muscles.

Benjamin pulled the covers off me. He still seemed a little wary of my reaction when he slowly pulled my boxer shorts down. I was holding my breath, still having trouble believing this was happening. I was embarrassed by my raging erection, it seemed overly eager, but it was beyond my control. My cock had sprung up as soon as Benjamin's lips touched mine, and now that it was exposed, it just got harder. It had been some time since anyone had touched me but myself, and as unexpected as it was, it sure wasn't unwelcome.

Benjamin kneeled beside the bed gracefully and wrapped his hand around my shaft. I looked down from the pale opal that was his face, and his hand was like a pale piece of heaven wrapped around my dark heat. His grip was firm but gentle, and I let out a low moan, unable to keep it inside. That seemed to be the sign the kid was waiting for. He dived in and started sucking me almost viciously. He was fierce, but his intensity stayed just short of hurting. He didn't slow down once he'd started. I fumbled for his hair, unable to decide whether to stroke him, pull him closer, or push him away. I ended up just sweeping his scalp with weak fingertips when he went up and down on my rigid cock. I arched up and moaned again, and when Benjamin cupped my balls with his other hand, I came. Explosively. I moaned and shuddered with the release, tensing anew for each spasm, as he swallowed everything I gave him.

Benjamin straightened his back and looked at the direction of my face, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. I reached for him, pulling him on the bed with me. I had the intention of pulling him in for a hug, but he turned so I was spooning him instead. I pressed against his slim back and kissed the side of his neck, searching for his pulse with my lips. My head felt too heavy to hold up, still shaky after the massive orgasm, so I put my head down on the pillow beside Ben and inhaled the scent of his hair.

I let my hand slide on the smooth skin on Ben's chest, finding the place where the trail of hair started towards his crotch and following it. I was slightly hesitant. Benjamin had instigated this, and strongly, but there was a weird unresolved vibe about him. He was tense, and even when he didn't stop my hand, it didn't feel quite right. I reached down nonetheless. He was hard, I could feel the bulge of his dick straining the fabric of his underwear. I swept my hand over it and it responded with a twitch.

"Can I touch you?" I whispered. I'm kinda particular with consent, after a few times misreading intentions that led to embarrassing scenes.

Benjamin didn't say anything, but he put his hand over mine. He entangled our fingers together briefly before guiding my hand under the waistband of his boxer shorts, urging my hand to continue on its own. It felt like he was holding his breath, he was so tense against me.

I kissed the back of his neck and stroked him slowly. He was rock hard, precum making the head slick for the touch. I loved the feel of his cock in my hand, so warm, so hard, so beautiful. I pushed the shorts down to free him, and stroked his smooth, straight cock against his stomach. Benjamin let out a sigh. I thought I should ask permission to blow him like he'd blown me, but before I could get the words out, Ben put his hand over mine again. He urged me to squeeze tighter, move a little longer, and faster, and faster. He tensed up some more, and I guessed it wasn't a time to alter anything anymore. He came, pulsing in my hand like a heart, and let out a shivering breath. I slowed down my strokes but kept a hold of him, kissing his neck once more.

I didn't know what to say. Benjamin said nothing either. We just lay close together, skin on skin, Ben's dick growing softer in my grip.

-#-#-#-#-#-

I woke up to the sound of the truck door closing. It was usually noisy, slamming it shut, but this was more subdued. I stretched and turned to my other side. It wasn't time to get up yet: I glanced at my phone and saw it was two more hours until I was clear to continue driving. With waking came memory, and I found myself wide awake.

I knew it had been the sound of Benjamin leaving and peering over the cabin confirmed this. By the looks of it, he had taken his guitar and backpack with him, which probably meant he wasn't coming back. I leaned my head back into the pillow and had a moment of thought of why that made me moody.

The kid had surprised me with initiating sex. I hadn't gotten that vibe from him at all. He had been quiet and subdued, sullen almost. He had the air of someone so deep in themselves they didn't come out much. He had asked if I wanted to talk, but that had felt like something out of obligation, not real interest. I had no idea how he had known I would be interested in having sex with him. I had offered to let him stay overnight, that much was true, but I was sure I hadn't done anything to suggest I would expect any kind of payment for the favor.

There had been a surprising, burning passion in Benjamin. Maybe the sex had been as much for his own benefit as mine. I hadn't minded holding him afterwards, either. I remembered how his slim body felt against mine, how well we fit together when we spooned close. What his cock felt like in my hand, when it slowly softened and I held it carefully, wanting to protect its delicate tenderness with my hand. The feel of his smooth thighs against mine. How our breathing synchronized to the same rhythm and made me feel like we were the same animal, curling to sleep in its nest in the darkness of the night, making itself comfortable.

Now it was morning, and the kid had left. Left without saying a word. He probably wanted to get an early morning ride out and get on with his journey wherever he was going. I felt disappointed and let down—almost abandoned.

I had no grounds for that sort of feeling. Whatever it had been, it had passed. As I wasn't sleeping anymore, I could as well get up and get started with my day. First, to the restroom to wash up and shave, then to the diner for breakfast. Coffee around here wasn't half bad, which was more than one could say of many truck stops.

I got up and dressed slowly. I checked all my valuables were still intact, though I never expected the kid to rob me. Everything was as I'd left it. I grabbed my phone and wallet along with my stationary bag. I sighed and looked around the cabin, and that's when I spotted the corner of the pharmacy bag peeking out from below the passenger seat. I pulled it out. It was the bag the kid had brought yesterday when we stopped to take a leak. It wasn't empty. He had left it by mistake.