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Peter Mcvries isn't a good driver, he doesn't make it a habit to smoke. But he wears a leather jacket and dangles a cigarette from his lips all the same, leaning against a slick cherry red automobile. It belongs to his dear ornery friend, Collie, and if he gets a scratch on it, the one he's got on his face will be the least of his worries. He's parked outside Ray Garraty's small white house, the last beams of sunlight just being transferred into streetlamps.
This isn't a date, because Ray is probably just straight and exceptionally kind. But he feels the same noisome kind of butterflies in the pit of his stomach as he expects he would before courting someone. An old screen door swings open and Ray slips out. He's wearing a crewneck and an indigo jean jacket that matches his pants, not quite dressed up, but nice, like his mother pressed it for him. The woman in question follows, looking at him with tenderness and worry creasing her brow. She squeezes his arm and says something that makes him blush and groan, before waving to Peter and letting her boy bound down the stairs.
Ray looks so handsome when he smiles that Pete has to look to the side to maintain his cool and composed stance. This attempt crumbles quickly as Ray reaches out a hand to shake his. He's not sure if it's a normal way to greet a work buddy he's never hung out with alone, but Pete gives him a firm shake anyway, with an amused grin stretching the corners of his lips.
"Nice ride, man. How'd you afford that on our salary?" Ray glances over the candy colored car with admiration that makes Pete wonder if he's a gearhead. Sure, it's a stereotype- but in his head that shifts his chances of being queer just a bit further away. Not that he's holding on to any hope, he tells himself.
"Friend of mine lent it to me, so don't get any ideas about taking it for a spin." Pete shakes his head as if he's any more qualified to drive it, and walks around to the passenger side to open the door for Ray. If the younger man has any reservations about this act of chivalry, he doesn't say a word about it.
"Noted. So, what's the plan, Stan?" Garraty asks as he buckles his seatbelt and sits a bit stiffly, as if he's afraid to leave a fingerprint on the leather interior. The phrasing makes Pete want to tease him for being such a square, but he thinks he might wait until they're a little further into the night in case that makes Ray change his mind.
"Figured we'd see a movie at the drive-in, that all right with you?" His heart skips as he speaks it, though his face remains as relaxed as he can manage. He knows how it might sound, if Ray has any sense to him. But sometimes he wonders if he does. No one working at the restaurant with them is particularly cruel. But none of them are keen to miss an opportunity to joke about the lack of interest Pete shows when attractive young women come in to dine- especially in comparison to the marked interest he shows in Ray. Most guys would talk themselves up in front of their friends, or corner Pete for making them uncomfortable, but Ray always responds with a good natured laugh and a smile that says something to Pete, only he isn't sure exactly what it says.
"Sounds good to me. I haven't seen a good movie in a while." Ray seems to relax into his seat as Pete shifts gears and guides the car out onto the road, gripping the wheel tightly.
"You good with horror? I guess I should've asked first, but that's what they got playing." Pete takes a deep breath and glances at Garraty through the mirror, seeing him more relaxed now. The sight of him so near, and the way he grins and shakes his head make Pete forget what he's doing for a moment, and a horn blares as he nearly cuts someone off.
"Shit, Pete- that was some real horror right there! Is this your first time behind the wheel?" Ray nudges his shoulder and laughs, and Pete decides the teasing gloves have come off, the tenseness dissipating despite their near accident.
"Fuck you, man. It's not- but I prefer to ride a bike, hell even a crisp walk. Don't get muscles like mine sitting all damn day." Pete smirks and watches Ray glance at his arm extending up to the wheel, wondering what goes on behind his eyes.
"Nah, I guess you don't. Maybe I could stand to do a little more walking." Ray slides a hand over his stomach, and Pete fights to keep his eyes on the road for just a little longer so he can pull into the lot where the drive in is, just as he fights his head over whether it's okay to let Ray know just how attractive his build is.
"Two for Night of the Living Dead, please." The usher's gaze stays on them unnaturally long as he tears off a tag and tucks it into the windshield, but he waves them on without a word. When they reach their spot, Peter turns to Ray and says as casually as he can. "We can all use some fresh air, but you don't have to look like me, Ray. I like that we're different, you know? Makes us fit together." The last words send burning over his chest and stomach, and he avoids Ray's gaze.
"You're right, I like that you're different than me. You say a lot of things I'd never think of, you know." It's delivered with the sincerity of someone who has had this thought many times quietly and is happy to finally release it.
"I have just one spectacular idea right now. You want something to snack on during the movie?" Pete half says this to continue being chivalrous, and half because he needs the night air to cool down his fondness for Ray.
"I uh- I'm good. You get yourself something though, since you got the tickets." Ray passes him a dollar and doesn't let go of the crumpled bill until their fingers have been touching for a moment.
"McVries, man. Funny seeing you here." As Pete stands at the concessions, a familiar voice greets him behind the counter.
"I didn't know you work here, Art. I thought you was canoeing at some Bible camp before your last year of school." Pete watches Art's shoulders sink a bit as he laughs with a bit of embarrassment.
"Parents said I was too old for that now, got to be a man and make money for the family. They even tried to say I didn't need to go back, just needed to find me a nice church girl and break off." Art shovels some popcorn into a paper bag and passes it over to him with a shrug. "I think I want something else, though. Nothing bad with wanting to learn for another year, maybe then I'll land a better job."
Pete hands him the dollar, but Art shakes his head and gives him a wink. "Nah, you better save that for your date. Nobody comes to see this one alone, they come so their girl gets all scared and hides in their arms." His eyes squint for just a second, and then he breaks out into a larger grin. "Or their whoever they brought, anyhow. I won't ask."
Pete nods and walks back to the car, pleasantly surprised by Art. They've always gotten along well, but he's never gone out of his way to spoil it by mentioning his sexuality in front of someone so religious. But more than devoted, Art is a good man, so perhaps Pete should've expected him to be so open minded. He wonders if that's any indication on Ray, or more likely his wishful thinking.
"Here's your dollar, and our popcorn." McVries says as he sits down, lights above the parking lot now dimmed so only the light of the projector on the screen is prominent.
"Our popcorn? What happened to don't get me anything- and how'd you get it free?" Ray says this all while his eyes look a bit too longingly at the buttery snack. When Peter shakes the bag and the kernels rustle, his eyes snap ahead to the screen.
"Man's gotta have his secrets, Garraty. Mind you, if you change your prejudice against this popcorn it's right here waiting for you." Ray rolls his eyes playfully and sinks into his seat as the film begins.
Peter isn't sure if he's happy to have seen this before so that he's not distracted from anything important happening by looking over at the beautiful man beside him- or upset that it lets his focus wander. He loves the film's gritty black and white horror, and the way human discord is just as much of a danger to the protagonists as zombies- and the way Ben commands the narrative in a way not enough black characters of the time were allowed to.
"Shit- how'd they make that girl look so freaky?" Garraty jumps in his seat, towards Pete, sneaking a piece of popcorn as if his question was only a diversion.
"Movie magic, baby." Pete chuckles and passes Ray the bag, and gets a sheepish smile in return.
"Who would you be?" Pete turns to watch Ray's face and the way his fingers play with the popcorn as he concentrates.
"Don't tell anyone- but I'd probably be that main girl. I mean, as a guy, obviously. I'd be out of my mind and need someone to tell me what to do, you know?" It's that kind of refreshing honesty that makes Pete feel so much safer around Ray than the other guys around their age, even if there's no guarantee that feeling is well placed. "How about you, Pete?"
"I'm not in this one." Pete isn't sure what he says as he means it, but maybe his obstinance gives him a chance to draw the conversation out.
"Really? Not the handsome leading man?" Ray's eyes flicker to Ben on screen and back to him, and Pete wonders if that's what he really wants to ask, if he can really mean the heavy question in his eyes. Silence between them, the silver screen flashes on and on before them, the dramatic end leaves Pete with a resigned sigh, and Ray with wide open eyes.
"I'd do things different from him. I respect him- he's bad- but I wouldn't have let that happen to me. Would've walked out of there like a bad motherfucker." He fills up the air to answer Garraty's question, even if it's just an attempt not to overthink what he's said, but the younger man shifts, amused but not wholly satiated by the answer.
"Yeah, you probably would survive, wouldn't you?" Ray hums and looks around them. The screen is blank, but many cars haven't moved yet. He's not so naive that he doesn't realize most of them were too interested in necking to watch the movie and thus haven't noticed that it ended. But what's his excuse for wanting to stay here a little longer? He crumples up the bag of popcorn as the last piece enters his mouth, crunching contemplatively, waiting for Pete to say they ought to head back home.
"I'm glad you seemed to like it, yeah? How was it hanging out with me without having to yell into that hot ass kitchen?" Pete's hand is on the wheel, but he makes no move to turn the key or shift out of park.
"It was real nice. I had a great time…" Ray's sentence trails off like it's unfinished, but he doesn't say anything else, eyes meeting Pete's.
"Your mom waiting for you at home?" Pete asks.
"Ah- No. I told her I might be back late, and she said you seem nice from what I told her, so it was okay."
"You're too easy to pick on, Ray. I don't know whether to point out that you talk so much about me to your mom or that you already planned on coming home late. What did you think we'd do for all that time?" It feels like he's passing infinity into Ray's hands, and that his dear boy will probably say something about watching another movie.
"It's not like I talk about you all that much, just about how nice you are to me at work, and how you don't get so flustered when the guys give you shit. I admire it, I'll admit." Ray stares at his knees as if he can count every thread of denim in the dark, and asks in a shakier voice. "Besides, what do guys like us do when we're out late?"
Taken aback, Pete isn't able to answer right away. Too many possibilities, he feels greedy and protective of Ray all at once, and still not wanting to cross a line that alienates him from Ray.
"Ray, what are guys like us?" Though it's dim, he can make out the roseate color of Garraty's face as he fumbles in the dark to grab his hand and squeeze it. The act hits him harder than any horny adolescent kiss he'd had years ago, because he can see how much weight it holds for Ray. He can feel it in the way Ray's hand shakes and then steadies itself to squeeze harder in waves. Pete must be in his head too long, because Ray suddenly jerks his hand back, apologizing.
"I'm sorry- I thought you were- I thought maybe I was-" Pete focuses in on Ray's face, cupping his cheek and pressing their foreheads together, which quickly silences him.
"Don't panic, okay? Not with me." Ray reaches out in response to Pete's words, his hands pressing into the muscular chest behind sturdy cotton. He's comforted by the sensation, even if he can't explain it to himself, even if he hasn't said any explicit words in his most private imaginings.
"How are you like that?" Ray shakes his head and winces. "I don't mean how are you, you know… I mean how are you so sure of yourself?"
"Maybe I just started off pretending and kept going until I really didn't give a shit. Or maybe, Ray-" Pete watches the curious hand stroking his chest with fondness. "maybe I just have a sweet spot for you."
Ray seems to collapse in on himself at that, ending up with his red face hidden against Pete's shoulder. "I'm not cut out for this, man. But I can't stop thinking about you. When you asked me if I wanted to hang out after work, I wasn't sure why, you know? But I knew I had to- and then you had to go and be all sweet and take me to a drive-in like we're steadies when I don't know the first thing about-" Ray makes himself short of breath with frantic energy, until Pete cuts in.
"What I say about panicking? You're alright, Ray." He presses a hand to Ray's back and then pushes Ray's shoulders back, so his flushed face is looking into his eyes again. "You don't have to have everything figured out. Just tell me what was on your mind."
Ray looks down at Pete's lips as he speaks, pausing every few words to remind himself that Pete has given him permission, no matter how mortified he feels. "I thought of how when you talk to me, I want to hear your voice in other ways, you know? When you say good things about me, it makes me feel… warm."
"Yeah?" Pete leans in closer when he speaks, nearly brushing Ray's ear and making him take a sharp inhale. "There's a lot to say, Ray. I've wanted to tell you just how handsome you are for a while, but I couldn't risk losing you as a friend, you know? So handsome and kind- but you're not afraid to be funny too, without even trying. I love that about you, Ray."
Ray is captivated by his words, but his body won't move the way his mind is begging it to. He wants to touch Pete more, but what he can think of doing is everything and nothing.
"What else did you think of, just my words?" Pete's hands are just as eager to touch Ray, but he's careful for now, hesitant to overwhelm him.
"I- I wanted to see you too. See what your body looks like under those clothes. Whenever it gets real hot in the kitchen and you roll your sleeves up.." The image makes Ray's hips shift. "I don't know why I kept staring, kept wanting to feel them."
Menacingly slow, Pete slips off his jacket and gives Ray a better view of his muscular arms. "Nothing wrong with that. They nice arms, right? Go ahead." Pete never set out to build his body so sturdily, it came with the strain of life- but he's glad he did, if it means Pete is devouring him with his eyes and now reaching out with wide palms to squeeze his bicep.
"You're…" Ray squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, contemplating, but the words escape anyhow. "You're beautiful, Pete, you know that?"
Pete feels that butterfly feeling again- something that could make him cry if he thinks about it too long. "That's a new one, I think."
"I'm a fucking dork, aren't I?" Ray scoffs at himself and pulls his hands into his lap, coming into awkward contact with a stirring cock he hope isn't noticed. "It's like I said, no idea what guys like you do, or why I've got to be so goddamned curious about it, or what I want."
It's as if a switch flips in Pete's head, because before he was afraid to overwhelm Ray, but now he realizes that the younger man is begging to be taught, even if he doesn't know he's saying it. It feels dangerous, all that power in his hands, all that man to explore- but Ray's a grown man, too, he has to trust that he knows himself enough.
"Just come here." Pete slides closer to Ray and lets him close the gap, placing a slow kiss on his half open lips. It's not Ray's first kiss, but he's sloppy, maybe from inexperience, maybe from need. It's as if the electrochemical rhythm of his heart puppeteers his movement as he slides his hands to Pete's waist and squeezes hard as if he'll disappear.
"Good?" Pete pushes Ray back and elicits a grunt, and almost doesn't get any verbal response in Ray's desperation to recapture his lips. "Come on, say it, baby."
"Yeah, it's fuckin' good, Pete. Do you want me to write you a review or what?" Ray huffs and adjusts his jeans.
"You gettin' irritable from being all worked up, huh? All I did is kiss you and you're drunk on it." Ray doesn't deny anything, because it's too evident in his gaze. "They'll start sticking flashlights in the windows soon, you want them to see me touching you?"
For someone who considers himself rational, Ray often finds himself on the side of impulsivity. He doesn't want to lose his nerve, but he also knows Pete will probably endure worse consequences if they're caught.
"I know a place, went with a girl I was going out with. We can park there, it's close and…" Ray doesn't want to talk any longer, he wants to close his eyes and open them once they're under a canopy of stars and Pete is touching him where he needs to be touched.
This is almost exactly what he does, save for enough glances to tell Pete when to turn as they leave the drive-in. Though it takes a bit with Pete's novice driving, they park up on a grassy hill that looks over town, where the buildings that take up so much of their life are rendered in impressionist strokes.
Pete turns to him, sliding a hand over his thick thigh and stroking it with his thumb. It sends heat flashing up to his groin, and a choked panting from his lips. "Will you touch it, please? I can return the favor if you, um, if you show me how." Ray's boldness grows with his straining arousal, and Pete smiles fondly at him as he unzips Ray's jeans, sliding them down enough that he can see his tented briefs.
"There you go-" Pete says with intent as he slides a hand over the v of Ray's briefs, brushing the fabric against his hardness. "Let me take care of this for you." He pulls down Ray's waistband and lets him free, licking his lips at the sight before him. Pete brushes against the hair leading down before taking him into his hand and feeling how heavy and swollen he's gotten.
Pete's hand is so different from his own, rougher with more articulated fingers- it makes Ray twitch without even much movement, just the sight of their skin touching. His stomach shifts with heavy breaths and Pete admires the sight, pushing Ray's shirt up a bit with his free hand to pepper kisses over it. Without fully committing a thought to it, his tongue slides over Ray's cock, catching salty fluid leaking steadily from his tip.
"Wait- Pete- Fuck-" Ray's hips are twitching, his face red with embarrassment and arousal in equal proportion. Reluctantly, Pete pulls away. "I don't want it to be over yet. I was about to- y'know. But I don't want to be done that way. I want you to feel good too, you know."
"You were already about to come for me, Garraty? Just too damn sweet." Pete's tone is only slightly teasing, it really does pull a cord of adoration in his chest. "How did you want to get me off then?"
"Can I try with my mouth too? I'll- I'll try to make it good." Pete doesn't hide his surprise. For someone who seems apprehensive about their sexuality- who seems terrified by his lack of knowledge, to choose something more difficult than the stroking he's already practiced on himself. He wonders, heat pooling in his gut, if that means Ray really wants to do it that badly, despite his lack of experience.
"Fuck, go ahead, baby. Don't push yourself though." Ray nods and tugs down Pete's jeans, hands trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves as he reveals McVries's hardness to himself. It's so different from looking at his own dick, he marvels, wrapping his hand around the base of the thick instrument and brushing the head with his thick thumb. After a moment of almost scientific inquiry, he remembers his intent, sliding a pink tongue out and flattening it up and down the length of him. He's surprised that nothing feels earth shatteringly different about this act- in the sense that lighting is not going to strike down on their car now that he's committed a clear act of queerness, however the line is drawn in his head. What he does feel, is elation from Pete's fingers sliding through his hair, stroking his head as if to tell him 'Good job.' He wants to hear more from that beautiful voice he's come to love, and slowly opens his mouth, careful of his teeth as he takes Pete between his lips.
"Shit- Ray- sure you want to?" Ray responds with a soft hum that forces Pete to restrain himself from burying his cock into Ray's throat. He remains gentle as he can, though his grip on Ray's hair tightens. Those thoughts stuck in Ray's head telling him there's something wrong with him, that he should've wanted his girl this way- all of them are melting as he takes Pete as deep as he can, fighting not to gag, trying so hard to be good for him. Tears are welling up in his eyes as he comes up for air. "You're doing so well, Ray. Making me feel so good. You alright?"
"Yeah, 'm good." He's surprised by the hoarseness that comes out, but even more by how enthusiastically he says it. "You're just uh… Big." He laughs shyly, and then tries to compose his demeanor into something more mature, something more desirable before he resumes pleasuring Pete with his mouth. If only he knew how sexy McVries finds his awkwardness, too, even more than the eroticism of knowing Ray's turned on by his size. But he'll have time to tell him later. Ray's lack of experience is evident, but he works every inch of Pete that he can, and whimpers, desperate to bring Pete to his climax.
"Almost- Fuck- Almost there, baby. You can switch to your hand if you want, it's a lot-" He's cut off by Ray making his most discernible effort to take him deep, fighting his reflex for as long as he can to give Pete the pleasure of his throat. It's unbearably good, and Pete loses all his composure with a low moan, emptying into Pete with trembling hips. The younger man splutters a bit as he pulls himself up, eyes glassy and lips rosy, but he does his best to swallow down what he's earned, panting and smiling faintly. Pete takes Ray against his shoulder, kissing his forehead and grasping his hardness, letting him rut into the tight space between his fingers. It doesn't take long for the man lost in pleasure and admiration to spill over Pete's hands, a beautiful contrast decorating him. He tucks Ray back into his pants, but they stay holding one another for a long moment, breath audible behind foggy windows.
Pete waits for the crashing moment, for Ray to beg him not to tell anyone or say it was a mistake. He might live to see that moment tomorrow, but for now, Ray only gives him a tired smile, leaning against Pete's shoulder until the older man takes the wheel and drives them back towards Ray's house.
Ray is reluctant to leave when they arrive in front of his house, looking at the sky for a measure of the time for the first instance since he'd met Pete tonight. Earlier, his mother had said something he didn't quite understand.
"I want you to let yourself have fun, alright, honey? I think you try too hard to be responsible now that it's just us too, but… it sounds like this Pete fellow means a lot to you, right?" Ray had rolled his eyes and hugged her goodbye, but as he watches Pete open the passenger door for him, he almost feels like crying. Things are bound to be awkward, but maybe it's not so bad for one person to have some small idea how happy Pete makes him. He scans the street for a quick moment, and finding it empty, presses a lighting quick kiss to Pete's cheek.
"I'll see you at work, okay?" Pete grins and resists pulling him close, not trusting himself to resist dragging Ray home with him and staying in his arms all night.
"And after work too, hopefully?" Ray says with a soft smile, straightening out his jacket to buy himself one more moment before going in.
"Course. Boys like us got to stick together, right?" Pete winks, and packs his body back into the car before he can linger anymore, watching to make sure Ray gets through the door safely.
In the back of his mind it occurs to him that he's going to have to inspect this car very meticulously before returning it, but that it would be worth walking through hell and back even if he'd only kissed Garraty, hell even if they'd just held hands in that drive-in lot and pretended not to think it meant anything more to the other.