Another 1,000 Miles

Home : Stories by Mick : Another 1,000 Miles

Summary: It’s easier to swallow now, now that I’ve let him back in.

AUTHOR: Mick
EMAIL: mick@cryptoffic.com
RATING: R, for language and slashy implications
CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr., Josh Snider
COMPLETED: July 5, 2009
WORD COUNT: 1,000
DISCLAIMER: If I owned them I’d be too busy to write this stuff. Just fiction, folks! I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the third in a short series about Junior and Josh. It’s a follow up to Movin’ Out and One More Night of Regret. May want to read those first.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dirty Mo’ Acres - Mooresville, NC

I walk by his house sometimes, even though it’s empty now. It’s been a year or so since he moved out and I know he won’t be there but I can’t help myself. If I’m feeling particularly masochistic, I’ll go up to the front door. I’ll unlock it and push it open and go inside. It’s empty now, of course, all his stuff is in that new house across town. I finally went to see it after the night we found one another at the bar. It’s a nice place, nothing fancy, but it’s his and he’s proud of it so I guess that’s what really matters. He’s put a lot of work into it; carpets, paint, new plumbing. His face lit up with pride as he led me through it, room by room, until the tour ended in his bedroom. It’d been different that night, so different, the opposite of how it’d always been. Wasn’t a bad different though. It got a little easier to come here after that night. I come here now and it’s not to cry and curse his name. Now when I come here it’s to remember. Every room brings back another fun time, another party, another boxing match, another round of laughter. I smile when I walk into his old room and can still smell his cologne. It’s easier to swallow now, now that I’ve let him back in.

There was a huge joint sigh of relief when we showed up together two days later at the bar. He’d slid into the VIP booth with me with the same ease he’d always had before our falling out. It was obvious to everyone at that point what had truly gone on between us. It’d been more than just a fight between friends, so much more. We’d disappeared together for two entire days, not answering our calls or texts. We’d hardly even left his bedroom, not that we’d ever tell anyone that. Far as they were concerned, we’d been holed up playing XBOX the whole time. The entire night out, we never moved from the corner of the booth. We sat closer than necessary, heads bent in toward one another as if we couldn’t hear over the music, our hands on one another’s thighs discreetly. Being with him had never felt so good--so right. I realized in that moment that no matter where he lived, he was always going to be mine. Nothing was ever going to be able to change that. I wouldn’t let it and neither would he. We wanted it this way, wanted to belong to one another, and we did. The world be damned, we were stuck with one another until the end of time.

I smile softly as I remember that first night together in his house. It was like the first time all over again, hard and fast and desperate with need. It was slow and sweet, dragging things out as long as possible. It was everything, all rolled into one shaking, sweaty night. Words can’t even properly describe it, honestly. I think about it a lot. At random times it’ll pop into my head and stop me in my tracks. One time it got me so flustered I had to excuse myself in the middle of a meeting. I grin to myself as I walk into his old room, images of us together in here dancing through my head. I can see my memories playing out on the walls, like an old projector screen, there for my private viewing. We grew up together, me and Josh, in every way possible. From awkward teens to full grown men, we’ve seen it all. We’ve ruined each other, made it impossible for us to go after anyone else. Lord knows we’ve tried, but in the end we always come back to one another. It’s never a conscious decision, either, it just happens. One day we’re dating girls and then they’re just as quickly forgotten, like that one in the quarry all those years ago.

“We had us some good times in here, huh June?” Two strong arms wind their way around my neck, his chin coming to rest on my left shoulder. I smile and lean back into the warm comfort of his body, his arms tightening around me a little. Everyone should have someone they can be this easy-going with.

“Yeah, we sure did, Snoot. We put Snooter Trail on the map…”

He chuckles and I can feel it rumbling in his chest, “That was all your doing, man. How many people can say they have a street named after them?” His lips brush across my cheek and I settle into him more.

“Don’t be so flattered, Josh. I only did it to try and make you stay.”

He laughs again, moving his arms from my neck to my waist. My hands come down to rest over his, my eyes closing momentarily, “Well either way, I appreciate the effort. Who wants a star named after them when they can have a street? Even if it IS a guilt trip attempt.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh, “Nice logic, Snoot. Real nice.”

Our phones go off almost simultaneously and I frown a little. There’s a party going on at the River and they must have finally realized that we went missing. Reluctantly he lets go of me, but at the last minute I take his hand in mine. His fingers lace through mine as we walk back out of the house. They stay laced as we climb onto the army issue jeep. I manage to shift it into gear without letting go, and we stay like that all the way back to the saloon, the jeep never coming out of first as we rumble along quietly. It’s not until we park out front that we finally let go, sharing a knowing glance before rejoining the party. One mile or thirty, no amount of distance is going to come between us again.

These authors spend lots of time to write these stories. If you took the time to read this PLEASE take the time to give them some feedback. Happy writers write more ;-)

Mick - mick@cryptoffic.com