Their (Whit’s) goal is the creek. The creek is by the park, the park’s not far from the church, but between the church and the park there is the coffee shop that they stop at. Benny bought a hot cocoa for himself and a regular coffee for Laurel and Whit waited outside to watch the clouds and so he didn’t get anything. Then they are at the park. Laurel and Benny with their drinks sit at the bench covered in chipped and peeling green paint just aside from the playground that consists of an ensemble of primary colors mashed together and swings on the side.

Whit pouts, but the clouds overhead threaten rain and the wind still has that winter bite to it so he leaves them with their warm drinks at the park and continues.

The creek inhabits the space between a rocky bank bordered by thick and still dead oak trees that slopes down to the water and a steep muddy wall that the water has carved away topped with spikes and barbed wire that are actually just more oak trees. One doesn’t usually know that the sound of running water is running water until one finds the running water. Whit comes through the dense trees onto the rocky bank splattered and splashed with mud from when the creek overflowed onto it because of heavy showers that were experienced a week prior to find that he is suddenly in the presence of the running water. He goes forth and crouches on the edge of the bank and witnesses an impossible flower blooming in the creek.

“What’s happenin’ lil’Whit?”

Whit turns to find Xylo sitting in a nook between where the ground steeps down into the bank and a large boulder.

Xylo is 23 and a drug dealer and is currently smoking a blunt. Whit smiles and feels giddy at the sight of him.

“It’s Easter and my mom put a tie on me.” He leaves the bank and crawls into Xylo’s lap.

“You’re not wearin’ no tie though.” Xylo muses while running his thumb across Whit’s exposed collarbone causing Whit to grin wider. At the moment Whit is wearing more mud than clothes, brown smeared across his once clean khaki slacks and white button-up shirt half unbuttoned.

“I took it off and tied it to the preacher’s car antenna.”

“Nice. ’N where your other two?”

“Staying warm and sensible in the park.”

Xylo snorts and takes a drag, “Sounds ‘bout right.”

“What are you doing out here?” Whit questions.

“Just havin’ a smoke.”

Whit takes Xylo’s blunt from him and grinds it into the boulder. “What are you doing now?”

“I guess just enjoyin’ the nature same as you.” Xylo leans back and lets Whit rests his head on his chest. There aren’t any birds chirping, but the sound of the creek permeates through to their souls… “Mmm, get up for a sec.” Xylo stirs Whit from his resting.

Whit grudgingly rolls off, but after Xylo sits up he gestures for Whit to lay where he had been previously with his jacket on the ground acting as barrier between them and the hard rocks. Whit complies readily and tangles himself in Xylo’s arms and legs. Whit smiles shyly as their lips press together, but then he turns away.

“You taste like pot.” Whit complains.

“And you taste like chocolate.” Xylo murmurs as he kisses Whit’s neck.

Whit giggles, “I stole the candy from a kid’s easter basket.”

“Was that kid your baby bro?”

“Maybe.” He bites his lip and smiles impishly. Xylo reaches down and unbuttons Whit’s pants. Whit gasps a little as Xylo’s fingers reach in under his boxers and softly starts to jerk him off. “Mmm, I’ve never done it outside before.” Whit can feel his heart start to quicken and his breath come a little faster as Xylo works him up.

“Yeah…” Xylo mumbles before moves down past Whit’s abdomen and puts the hard cock in his mouth. His lips press again the bulging veiny member while his tongue traces along the head. He keeps one hand around the base, his thumb gently massaging the area.

Whit moans and delves his fingers in Xylo’s hair. Xylo has long lank strands of dark brown hair that Whit loves to grab and twists in his fingers, enjoying how soft it feels. “Ahh, Xylo, haah~” They continue on until Whit cums in Xylo’s mouth.