The Lost Coast

his senses and tried to bolt, and told him to drive out to the edge of the redwood forest.
    “Please,” the kid sobbed as they drove. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have.”
    Larison, his hand still gripping the kid’s hair and the knife still at the kid’s throat, didn’t answer. In his mind, he thought,
Not sorry enough.
    They parked on a dead-end in the shadows of the giant trees, the interior of the car glowing sepia from the glare of a distant streetlight. Larison, maintaining his grip, watched the street for a few minutes. When he was confident no one had seen them, no one was around, and no one cared, he said, “Unbuckle my seatbelt. Then yours.”
    “Please,” Seth said. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
    “Don’t make me repeat myself, Seth or whatever the fuck your name really is. It makes me angry.”
    Seth undid the seatbelts.
    Larison said, “Are you gay, Seth?”
    “No!”
    “Then why do you like to beat up gays?”
    “I don’t like to!”
    “So many lies, Seth. So much denial. I used to be the same. Although I never stomped anyone over it. Still, it’s always been a secret for me. A deep, dark secret I would never tell a soul. I’m only telling you because you’re a stranger and we’ll never see each other again. Isn’t that odd? I guess we have to tell someone.”
    “I’m not gay.”
    The dark, the privacy, the kid’s protests… the post combat aftermath. It was all turning Larison on. A lot.
    “I’m going to help you through all that denial now, Seth. And here’s how. You’re going to kiss me.”
    “No!”
    Larison tightened his grip in the kid’s hair and pressed the knife a fraction harder against his throat. The kid whimpered.
    “Lean forward, Seth, and open your mouth.”
    The kid was shaking, but he complied. Larison, so turned on his heart was pounding, pressed his mouth over the kid’s, keeping the kid’s head in place with the grip he had in his hair. He pushed his tongue into the kid’s mouth and the kid moaned, in pleasure or disgust or both Larison didn’t know and didn’t care.
    Larison broke the kiss and said, “Now stick out your tongue, Seth.” The kid did. Larison sucked on it. The kid tasted of alcohol and fear. The taste made Larison darkly crazy with lust.
    Larison broke the kiss again. The kid was panting now. Larison could feel himself throbbing in time to it.
    “Now, Seth,” Larison said, their eyes locked from inches apart. “Reach out and undo my pants.”
    The kid, panting, said, “Please.”
    Larison pressed the knife in and the kid cried out. “All right!” he said. “All right, I’m doing it…”
    And he did. In the darkness, the sound of Larison’s zipper was huge.
    “Now reach inside, Seth. Reach inside my pants and get my cock out.”
    “Oh, Jesus,” Seth said. “Oh, God.” But he did it. Larison could feel the kid’s hand shaking as he gripped Larison’s cock.
    “Now lean forward, Seth. That’s right, lean forward. You’re going to suck my cock, Seth or whatever the fuck your name really is. And you better leave me happy. Because if you don’t, I’m going to leave your body in this car. You understand?”
    The kid nodded, eager now, maybe because he thought he saw a way out, maybe because he couldn’t help himself.
    “You’re going to swallow everything I give you. Every fucking drop. You better make me happy, kid.” It wasn’t just the pleasure Larison was after. He also didn’t want to leave DNA anywhere it could easily be collected.
    The kid nodded again and leaned in, Larison’s hand still gripping his hair, the knife still at his throat.
    Maybe it was the kid’s fear. Maybe it was that it was his first time. Whatever it was, it was the best head of Larison’s life.
    When it was over, and the kid was sitting up again, gasping, Larison closed the knife and clipped it back in his pocket. He didn’t care if the kid ran now. It wouldn’t make a difference.
    He redid his jeans and looked at the kid. “That’s what you were so afraid of,” he said. “That’s the thing you couldn’t face about yourself. Well, now you know.”
    The kid, still panting, didn’t answer.
    Larison said, “Now you don’t have to help your fucked-up friends jump faggots you meet in bars. Not that they’re ever going to be in a condition to again, but still.”
    Again, the kid said nothing. Larison supposed he was in shock. He opened the glove compartment and found the