The Reunion

He hoped he’d arrived in time. It had been years since he drove the corners and roundabouts that led to the high school, but Devon remembered the path just as well as if he still went there. He graduated ten years ago today—ten year reunion. Everyone would be comparing their kids, comparing their jobs, and comparing their lives—that’s not why he decided to come. He had something important to do, and if he didn’t do it now he might never get around to it.

Kale. Since middle school, the very first time he’d seen Kale Bohn, there was something different about him. He knew he had to get closer to him. It worked. Devon felt confident that Kale would be there for him when push came to shove, and he’d proven it many times throughout their friendship. After they started really getting along, things changed—for the better. He never came out to anyone in high school—it wasn’t the thing to do in that era—and it led to some fortunate encounters, especially with Kale. The two of them getting shirtless at Mindy’s annual water balloon fight, being ‘forced’ to wrestle in gym class, and one very memorable evening at the lake—skinny dipping with the whole ‘group’. He didn’t stare, per say, but he didn’t stop himself from looking, either.

The parking lot was absolutely full, so Devon had to park on the street—even finding a spot there proved difficult. When he finally slid between a pair of pickup trucks, he sprinted for the door. So much for not getting all sweaty, “Devon?” He twisted his head a bit too fast, cricking it painfully, “It’s me. Mindy.”

“Hi.” He massaged his neck, still moving towards the door, “How are you?”

“I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just want to get in there and stuff.” He ran his back into the door and took a quick look inside. His plan faltered here—way too many people to try and track down anyone, especially after not seeing any of them for a decade, “You don’t happen to know if Kale’s here, do you?”

Her blue eyes sparked, lips curling up, “Do you still have a thing for him?”

“What?” He pulled her into a little nook outside the entrance, “How do you know?”

She laughed, “Everyone knew. I think the only one that didn’t know was Kale.” That threw him for a loop. Was it really that obvious? If it was, how the hell did Kale not figure it out? Or did he? Doubt rose in his gullet, “Last I saw, he was standing over by the trophies, behind the punch bowl.” She punched him in the arm, “Now man up and go see him.”

He nodded, exhaling a deep breath, and turned through the door. People accosted him the whole time. He kept a stiff, practiced smile on his face, waving when he ran across the rare face he still recognized. Someone flagged him down to give him a name tag, but he couldn’t stop—there was Kale, “I’ll get it in a minute.”

Everyone else more or less melted into a faceless mass. Everyone except Kale. Little, blonde, green-eyed Kale, dressed to the nines in a grey suit. He leaned against the glass trophy case, sipping something pink out of a plastic cup and staring over the milling crowd. This is it, “Kale?”

He turned around, clearly unsure of what was going on, and bit down on his lips, “I feel like I should know you.”

“That sounds just like something you’d say, too.” Not surprisingly, he had no idea what was going on—or who the crazy guy talking at him was, “I should be insulted. It’s Devon.”

His face broke into a smile straight away, “Holy shit, Devon.” Kale wrapped one arm around him. He had to fight to keep himself from collapsing—and that was just a platonic touch. Could he handle doing what needed doing? “When did you get so old?”

“Probably the same time you did.” Maybe he held the hug a little too long, but ten years was a long time to go without that feeling. Kale’s abs, hardened by whatever karmic injustice made him so irresistible, pressed into Devon’s body, the pressure ebbing and flowing with each breath, “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s been, what? Ten years?”

“You’re still telling those awful jokes?” He laughed anyway, just thrilled to be back with him. All at once, though, it changed. The reality of the situation set in again—he had something he had to do, and he had a suspicion it might not go too well, “Kale, can we talk?”

“Why so serious?” He didn’t seem to have the same apprehensions about this situation as Devon—go figure, “Come on, have a drink.” He dragged Devon to the punchbowl and filled one of the plastic cups up with pink liquid until it bulged at the top, “It’s good.”

He took a sip and gagged, not expecting what he found, “This has booze in it!”

“Of course it does. Do you honestly think these people can handle each other sober?” He laughed, “Speaking of which, could you give me a ride home when this is all over?” Devon shivered, doing his level best to keep in control, “I’ve had a few too many of these little things tonight.”

His mouth went dry, “Are you sure? I mean, shouldn’t your girlfriend drive you home?”
The move was lame—but it worked, “What girlfriend? Do you think I’d be here if I had a girlfriend? I’d at least be mingling.” He looked at the floor, chuckling, “So, what do you say? I really do need a ride home and I’m in no condition to drive.”

“Do you still live in town?”

“Of course I do!” He was right back to being boisterous and happy, “This place is like a black hole. Nothing gets out!”

“Well, all right.” Right as he agreed, the space between him and Kale spread out into a canyon his guts churning ice water, “Just tell me when you want to leave.”

He pulled the cup out of Devon’s hand, downed the punch, and threw it across the way into a trash can, “I’ve got an idea.” He ran off, pushing through the crowd. Worried he would hurt himself, Devon hurried behind him, “Mindy!” Somehow, amongst everyone else in the room, Kale tracked down the one person he wanted to find. After hugging and general banter, Kale flashed his regular old smile, “We’re having a party.”

Devon’s night grew more and more surprising, and he’d been here all of five minutes, “Wait, what?”

He dragged both of them into a hug, one under each arm, “I just figured, since we’re all here and feeling reuniony, we could get the old crew back together. It’s not like we could possibly have any less fun than we’re having here.”

Devon didn’t argue. Now everything hinged on Mindy’s reply, “I’ll go find Alex.”

She ran off, leaving Devon and Kale alone again, “So, I really want to thank you for driving me home tonight. I totally owe you one.”

He thought about it. A ridiculous fantasy flashed through his mind where he could turn in that favor for things, but it wouldn’t happen—he knew he didn’t have the balls for that move, “Don’t mention it.”

“No, I’m serious, whatever you need.”

It was getting tempting. He started to tell him just what it was he needed, but was interrupted before any incriminating words could leap out, “Devon! Kale!” They got caught up in a screaming, bouncing mass of black hair, “You guys are here!” Alex looked the same as always: olive skin, shiny curls, and constant movement. After they finished catching up, she looked straight at Kale, “Are we really having a party?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

With the four of them riding in Devon’s car, he couldn’t help but feel lighter. It was like regaining his youth. They chattered, driving streets they all knew too well, until Kale directed him into a concrete driveway, “This is it.” He walked to the door, surprisingly steady for someone too drunk to drive, and unlocked it, “Come on in, it’s not like I’m going to eat you.”

Mindy and Alex walked in first, leaving Devon to think—going in here was committing to something. He didn’t know exactly what, but it would be something bigger than he realy ever expected from this night. With a final, calming breath, he made his way up the few stairs to the door, zipping past Kale, “Whoa.”

What else could he say? In high school, Kale couldn’t even keep his backpack clean. This house looked like someone else lived here. Metal bookshelves filled with thick volumes lined the walls, all surrounding a rather large television that hung from the wall. Devon preferred, in this case, not to believe that Kale was compensating with the TV. The most striking thing about the place, though, was the smell. It was striking, to say the least. Tart and floral, heady and exotic, permeating everything. He didn’t know quite what it was, but he liked it.

Kale got them all to sit on the couch and, lo and behold, pulled out a bottle of vodka, “What do you say? Let’s drink.”

Devon wasn’t about to disagree. The more liquor they had in their systems, the easier it would be to get the job done. It took a few shots of vodka before he didn’t gag, but after that, all four of them were downing it. His only real fear now was that Kale would have liquor dick—that might create problems, if it came to that—yeah right.
After about an hour’s worth of shots, Mindy and Alex passed out, cold, “I’m glad they’re out of the way.” It wasn’t what Devon expected to hear at all—he’d expected to say something along those lines. Kale moved closer, scooting across the floor, “Listen, I know it’s been ten years, but I wouldn’t ask anyone else to do this.” His speech slurred just short of the point of being incomprehensible, “I always kind of thought of you as my safety net. Sorry, that sounds bad.” He motioned like he was cutting off the orchestra, trying to center himself the same way he’d done as long as Devon could remember, “I mean to say you were always there when it really counted. Mindy and Alex are nice and I love them and all, but if things got hard, they’d sort of disappear.” He squeezed Devon’s hands, “This is going to be totally weird and I totally understand if you never want to see me again.”

Could it be? No way—it was called a fantasy for a reason, “Just ask me, would you?”
He took in a deep breath. and leaned in closer, whispering, “Would you rub me off?”

“What?”

“Damn it!” He pulled away, “I knew I should have just shut up!”

“Calm down, Kale. I didn’t say no.” He stopped as Devon got up, “It just took me by surprise.” He had to play this out a certain way. If he answered too eagerly, it wouldn’t seem normal, “But can’t you do it to yourself? Why do you need me?”

He sighed, “I haven’t, you know, been with anyone for a few years. I just, you know, wanted to have someone else…”

Still too soon, “Why couldn’t you just get a hooker or go on Craigslist or something?”

“I felt too guilty with hookers and none of my personal ads worked.” He sat down on the long, sharp couch, “I know it’s really weird, and I already owe you, but now I’ll owe you, like, a million times over.”

Time to make a move. He still had to make it seem like he was resisting, “I just have to jack you off, right? No kissing or sucking or anything else weird?”

“Of course not! I’m not gay!”

Despite current evidence to the contrary, Devon let that slip by, “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone about this, right?” He nodded and, after ten years, Kale did the unthinkable.

He took off his pants for Devon.

***

As he fumbled to get in the proper position, he had to resist laughing. Never in a thousand years would Kale have thought he’d be in this position—dick out, waiting for Devon of all people to give him a hand job. In fact, he still couldn’t totally believe it—but that might have just been the liquor. They sat there, not moving, for several seconds and then Devon reached out a single finger and touched him right on the slit. He rubbed the finger down, smearing the warm liquid all across the head. He took his time wrapping his fingers around the shaft, applying increasing pressure with each finger he added until he’d totally enveloped the muscle.

He didn’t waste any time building up speed. He just went to town, jacking his fist up and down the skin. Kale couldn’t exactly blame him—he’d probably want to get it over with fast too. A wave of sensation shot through him and, before he could stop it, the unthinkable happened, the thing he wanted to avoid at all costs with this hand job.
“Oh, fuck!”

He was surprised when Devon kept going. He was damn lucky to have him for a friend—even if he did owe him just about anything he wanted now. Knowing Devon, though, he’d never cash in any of those favors.

He could already feel the pressure building in his groin. He knew it wouldn’t take long—he’d decided to do this, one way or another, as soon as they met up at the reunion, and his hard-on hadn’t dropped a bit since, “You don’t have to finish,” he panted. “I’m going to cum.”

Devon either didn’t hear or didn’t care. If anything, he moved his hand faster. Kale’s balls twitched once, twice, and on the third he couldn’t stop himself anymore. The hot geyser ran up, sending cold electricity all the way up the shaft, focusing in on the head. He normally didn’t watch himself cum, but something told him to. The cream shot up and, rather than catching in his bush, landed all over Devon’s arm. He tried to apologize, but words weren’t going to be an option right now. His whole body tightened, shuddering as more and more of the liquid sprayed up and out. He hadn’t had an orgasm this strong since—well, since high school, when he was in his prime.

When it finally ended, he could only say one thing, “I owe you a ton.” Then he conked out, spent and drunk.

***

Devon looked at the semen covering his hand and arm. His dick begged to be set free, but that could wait. He ran a finger through the white liquid, collecting it up, and placed it on his tongue. It was sweet—he’d never tasted sweet cum, only heard about it on the rare occasion. He liked it. He made quick work of cleaning his arm and, in a moment of true daring, cleaned off the remnants still on Kale’s dick.

He hadn’t told him what he came to tell him, at least not yet, but as he rearranged Kale’s clothes, stuffing him back in his shorts and getting him back into the slacks, he knew he’d have another chance.

Kale owed him—a lot.