Chapter 10: Puddles

True to his word, Miles showed up at Billy's the next day with Styrofoam containers of pancakes. Miles felt out of place. He did not know what it was like to actually court someone. He had never been the type. Was it strange to want to bring breakfast foods to someone? At least pancakes usually helped him feel better after a night of heavy drinking.

Billy leaned in close to Miles as soon as the door opened, but when Miles simply looked surprised, Billy opened the door wider and welcomed Miles into the house.

"Did you sleep okay?" Billy asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose as though to get a clearer look at Miles.

"Yeah, sure," Miles grumbled, making his way to the kitchen. It was bad enough that he was hungover, but he also had not slept well. Every time he closed his eyes he could see black and white grainy images morphing and dancing behind his lids. Nightmares had been the least of his worries.

"How's Rudy?" Miles asked as the devoured the pancakes straight out of the container.

"Rudy?"

"Yeah, Rudolf back there," Miles said, chewing away at a mouthful of pancakes with syrup smeared on his chin.

"You can't call him Rudy," Billy objected, pausing in the act of putting another slice of pancake into his mouth.

"I can and I just did," Miles grinned. "How about you? Good night? Not having any relapses?"

"No, I slept...as good as usual," Billy said.

"Good. That's good," Miles said. "Do you need any help with the cows today?"

"I didn't get the feeling you enjoyed the cows," said Billy, his eyebrows raising above his glasses frames.

"I...enjoy spending time with you?" Miles said.

"Just let me move Grandfather, then I'll meet you at the truck," Billy said, a grin splitting his face.

It was a sunny day. Miles realized it had been a long, gray spring up until that point. He had missed the sun. The breeze made it too chilly to walk around without a coat, but it was at least warm in the sunshine. Miles wore his usual leather jacket over a heavy wool sweater and jeans, and Billy wore a lighter jacket over a plaid button down shirt and dark jeans. His wide-brimmed hat sat on his head, making Miles chuckle. Miles rolled his window down and rode in the pickup truck with his elbow hanging out. It smelled like cows, but Miles just felt happy to have the fresh air.

Billy did not need much help moving the huge sacks of feed. Miles struggled to drag one over to the bin, while Billy effortlessly carried two at once, perched on his shoulders. When Billy got further away, it seemed almost like a swarm of insects was gathering around him in the distance. Miles stared, confused, until he had to double over and rest his hands on his knees to stop the sudden buzzing and feeling of dizziness. Miles regained his breath and cursed his luck. Hopefully the side-effects of that horrible video would wear off sooner than later.

Billy came back after a while and there was no trace of the earlier buzzing swarm. Miles carefully checked Billy's eyes behind his frames to ensure they were blue and not something else. Billy just grinned in confusion at Miles strange behavior. He took a small step forward and reached out to take Miles' hand. Miles stared down at where Billy's callused hand was holding his and frowned.

"I've been thinking a lot about...the other day, in the shower. I want to repay the favor," Billy said, blue eyes averted, unable to meet Miles'.

Miles shook his head and grinned. "You don't have to do that. I didn't want you to owe me some kind of favor. I just...did not really know how to help I guess. And you naked, that was a bad idea. I have enough trouble restraining myself when your clothes are on."

"Why are you restraining yourself at all?" Billy asked, biting his lip as he looked at Miles. He released Miles' hand and leaned casually against a graying bale of hay, putting one foot up on the bale while hooking his thumbs in his belt-loops.

"I...I don't know," Miles offered, lamely. He could not tell Billy the truth. Miles feared getting close to the boy in case he ended up selling the story and betraying Billy. The kid had been through enough torture in his life. That kind of betrayal by your first real crush could be devastating. He also did not want to admit that he had molested his best friend days before and was worried about his disgrace contaminating virginal Billy. And then there was the question that had haunted Miles his entire life...was he really feeling something, or just lonely? He usually never knew until it was too late.

It was really difficult with Billy sitting there so casually, equal parts innocence and sin, projecting a sexy picture of rugged cowboy and shy virgin all at once. Miles had never been anyone's first. He did not even know the name of his first. He preferred it that way.

"We can do whatever you want to do," Billy offered again, blue eyes pleading behind their thick frames.

"You don't have to," Miles said.

"I want to put it in my mouth," Billy said, and the awkward wording was like finding a direct line to Miles' core. He had heard those words so many times—climaxed at the sound of them—that just hearing them spoken had a Pavlovian effect on Miles' groin. His blood pumped faster as he looked over Billy, still biting his lip unconsciously. Yeah. Miles could see it clearly. He could get Billy on his knees and fuck his mouth. But the boy had no experience. It would not be anything like the time Waylon had swallowed him whole while moaning at the taste.

"Have you ever sucked a dick before?" Miles asked, bluntly, though he suspected the answer.

Billy shook his head, the blush returning to his cheeks. Billy's relaxed posture became more rigid and unsure.

Miles closed the distance between them and pushed Billy's shoulder back against the large hay bale. Billy spluttered as Miles' hands found his ridiculous belt buckle and began undoing his jeans.

"Mister...Miles I didn't, uh, not here," Billy stuttered as Miles successfully pulled his belt away from the loops and tossed it on the grass.

"Why? Who's going to see us? The cows?" Miles snorted at his joke. "No, I think you've waited long enough."

"But, I wanted to...I mean I was going to...you," Billy stuttered, adorably befuddled, as Miles undid his jeans and rucked them, along with his boxers, to the middle of his thighs. The young man met Miles' eyes and the reporter exhaled through his nose at the frightened expression there.

"Maybe I could give you a demonstration first?" Miles offered, his hand reaching out where Billy's freed erection was jutting out into the cool air. "May I?" Billy licked his lips and nodded his head quickly. It was all the invitation Miles needed to stroke his hand across Billy's swollen flesh.

Miles preferred the view from his position. It was more satisfying than when they were in the shower. He liked to watch his partner's reaction when he was on the giving end of things. Billy inhaled sharply at the first contact, his mouth falling open and eyes fluttering closed. How did Billy even know how to make such an erotic face? Something that sensual could not just be on accident. Miles watched Billy's face closely as he loosely pumped his fist along the young man's length. His actions drew out breathy moans and gasps from Billy's open mouth, making Miles throb with need.

The older man sank down to his knees in the field, the dried grass and hay making it less cold and hard than it could have been though there was still some dampness seeping through his jeans. Billy stared, his glasses falling to the end of his nose as he panted. Miles smirked up at the boy as he used his hand to direct Billy's erection toward his mouth. Miles flicked his tongue out across the head, lapping up the tiny pearl of moisture that had formed. Billy's pitiful whimper was satisfying. Miles stared up at Billy's face while licking the tip slowly, letting his lower lip catch and pull on the sensitive organ.

The boy was easy to read and Miles could feel his flesh throbbing in his hand. He took his time, wrapping his lips around the hard shaft and laving his tongue over velvety skin while taking Billy into his mouth slowly. Every bob of Miles' head engulfed another portion of his erection. Billy's hands flew onto the hay bale behind him and fingers dug into the straw for support. Every slide of tongue made him whimper; every wet swallow made him moan. Miles could not remember a time when he had been that sensitive. Without warning, his cheeks hollowed as he pulled back while sucking with a vulgar slurping sound. Billy cringed and Miles pulled away, staring up at the boy to judge his reaction.

"Too much? You can't come now, that's no fun, rookie," Miles chided, smirking up at Billy while the younger man's wet cock bobbed in his face.

"It feels too good Mister Upshur," whined Billy.

"Goddammit. You better call me Miles," growled Miles. He gripped Billy and gave a firm stroke, pushing the skin easily thanks to his saliva. Billy gasped at the touch, back arching against the hay.

"I don't think I can stand..."

"I think you can," Miles answered, watching Billy's face as he flattened his tongue and dragged it along the underside of Billy's cock. The younger man's eyes squeezed shut and he gave a broken moan. "Not going to come yet, right?" Miles asked. Billy shook his head violently, knocking his glasses askew while squeezing his eyes shut.

Miles took his time, working Billy all the best ways he had experienced over the years. Billy took it all in stride, moaning and struggling to keep his knees from giving out. Miles' own hardness was difficult to ignore, but he focused only on Billy's pleasure. He wrought out moan after moan with his tongue and throat. Miles noticed all the wetness dripping down Billy's balls and perineum and used it to moisten a finger to tease between his cheeks, tracing his hole. He slid one slick finger in only as far as the first knuckle. Billy's head knocked back against the hay-bale in response. He came with a broken cry that startled several nearby cows.

"Miles," he cried as his climax hit.

Miles swallowed around his length, not letting him withdraw from his mouth. After Billy was spent, he leaned heavily upon the hay-bale as Miles stood up and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. Billy tried to push him away, making Miles laugh and break the kiss.

"What? Don't like the taste?" Miles teased, kissing Billy's closed mouth which had transformed into a thin line. "I think you taste good," Miles purred and the slutty admission had Billy's mouth opening in a soft gasp. Miles used the opening to slip the tip of his tongue between Billy's lips and prod gently with his tongue. He smiled when Billy returned the action, shy tongue making soft contact before Miles deepened the kiss. Billy opened willingly, wrapping his arms around Miles and holding him tight.

"You should feel good too, Miles," Billy said during a brief parting of lips. "I want you to be my first."

Miles hummed at the sentiment, breaking the kiss and staring into glasses with smeared lenses. He chuckled and reached down to help tuck Billy back into his pants as he pulled them up.

"Wait, wha," Billy questioned, as Miles surveyed the ground until he found Billy's belt and handed it back to the boy. "I can go again. I can do whatever you want," Billy insisted.

"Don't push yourself," Miles muttered. Billy surprised him by stepping forward and groping Miles' pants until he found what he sought. Strong hands squeezed at Miles' dick, clearly straining in his jeans.

"You're hard," Billy stated, as though he had expected otherwise. "So why don't you want to?"

"I do want to," Miles said simply. "I want to force your head down on my lap before fighting my way into your virgin ass." Billy's moan was almost comical. Miles shook his head, grinning. "But I shouldn't. Your first time should be with someone special."

Just because it had not been true for him, did not make it bad advice. What he really meant was that Billy's first time should be with someone who was not a walking human disaster. So anyone but Miles, basically. He sighed and turned back toward the truck.

"Special," Billy stuttered, calling after the reporter, "...you are special." Miles continued walking, his only response a slight shake of his head. "Yes. You are special to me. I've never felt this way about anyone."

"...said the virgin," muttered Miles. "Of course you haven't. Give it time. You're young."

"It's because I'm the host, isn't it?" Billy asked, struggling to thread his belt through the loops while keeping pace with the retreating reporter.

"No," Miles said, turning to look at Billy. "No. There is nothing wrong with you. You deserve happiness. You're a good person."

"You have no way of knowing that about me. And are you trying to imply that you aren't a good person?" Billy asked.

Miles paused in walking to consider the question. "I like to think I am trying. I've messed up a lot lately but, I'm trying. Maybe I can be a good person one day."

"You're wrong about me," Billy whispered, catching up with Miles and grabbing hold of his arm. "I'm not how you think. I've done things..."

"So have I," Miles said, cutting off the speech and meeting Billy's eyes. "I don't care. It's past. I think...I mean, I know now. I want to pursue something with you. This isn't some kind of proposal, I just...wouldn't mind being something more, like...we are dating." The phrasing seemed immature in that moment, but Billy's eyes lit up.

"You mean that?" Billy asked, his voice breathy and nervous. Before Miles could answer, Billy's head snapped to the side. "Something's wrong."

Miles was looking around the area but it all seemed the same as before: cows, cows, and more cows. Miles had good eyesight and he could not see any dangers that would cause any type of high alert. Then he noticed something strange amid the cows furthest in the distance. They seemed to be moving apart quickly from one particular area. Miles looked at Billy and shuddered when he saw that his eyes had turned completely black and alien within his skull.

Billy stalked off into the cows, parting them easily without causing any distress. Miles made considerably slower process since he seemed to have to stop and change direction to avoid every single cow between him and Billy. "Wait up! Billy, if it's something dangerous, you need a shotgun or at least a cattle prod or something!"

If Billy heard, he gave no indication as he continued his forward march through the sea of cattle. Miles was getting further and further behind, though a new noise was growing louder. There was the loud mooing of the distressed cows, but also a low pitched growl. Miles had posted enough news to hikers through his job to know that there were sometimes difficulties with hikers and wild animals. He began to imagine himself running into a wolf, bear, or mountain lion without any protection.

Miles finally came to an opening as the frightened animals were quickly stampeding away from the disturbance. Billy faced off against a large animal. At first, Miles mistook it for a wolf, but upon closer examination it seemed to be a large breed of dog. The animal was growling and tensed, ready to pounce.

"Billy!" Miles cried, though neither the dog nor Billy acknowledged him. Then he saw it, hovering over Billy's shoulder. The Walrider, in its humanoid form, seeming to float in the air on an amorphous cloud of nanites. The strange expressionless face calmly considered his host and the beast before floating forward quickly. The dog gave a sad yip before the swarm encompassed it, dragging the dog into the air where it hovered—and then exploded.

Miles did not know how else to describe what he watched. The dog was lifted into the air as though it weighed nothing and then blood splattered a large, circular area of the ground and a few larger pieces of bones and gray matter rained down on the ground. Miles was out of the splatter range, but he still cowered down and covered his head with his hands.

"Mister Upshur," called Billy. Miles did not move from his duck and cover position. He heard footsteps approaching quickly. "Mister Upshur, are you okay? Everything's safe now." Billy reached out and put a hand on Miles' shoulder.

Miles jumped up, pushing away the offered hand. "What the fuck, Billy?"

The confused expression on Billy's face was so pronounced it knocked his blood-splattered glasses askew. "I...sorry. I had to take care of that animal before it got to the cows."

"You...you had to turn it inside out and scatter gore across a twenty foot radius?!" Miles' voice was rising to an alarming pitch.

"I'm sorry. You should not have had to witness that," Billy said, pulling off his blood sprayed glasses and cleaning them on his shirt.

"Why did you do that?"

"I was protecting the cows," Billy said.

"Bullshit. That was just a dog, I saw it," Miles said, pushing his way past Billy and walking to the center of the blast radius. Miles had to cover his mouth to keep down a sudden, violent wave of bile. Miles was not a man who was easily unsettled, but the absolute destruction of the creature left him feeling shaken. There, among the bloody wreckage, Miles spotted it. He leaned down, gagging, and picked up a blue collar. The tags jangled as he examined the item, wiping away blood and gore to read a name. "Puddles," Miles said, laughing at the absurdity. "The greatest threat to your cows was a fucking dog named Puddles? You could have lured him away. Chased him off! What on earth could a dog, even a large one, do to a cow really?"

Billy was quiet ,staring at the bloody ground. His outfit and hat were splattered with red as though he were part of some kind of gory performance art exhibit. "I'm sorry."

"Was that you?" Miles demanded, turning to stare hard at Billy. "Was that you, and what you wanted to do...or was that...it?"

Billy shook his head, removing his sullied hat. "There's no difference. I am it and it is me."

"You said before, in my hotel room, that you weren't the Walrider," Miles said.

"I'm not," Billy snapped, dark blue eyes glaring up to meet Miles'. "I'm not the Walrider. But I am the host. It doesn't...it doesn't do anything without me allowing or willing it."

"Are you sure about that?" Miles asked, his gray eyes narrowing. "Are you absolutely sure the swarm has never acted on its own, sentient desires?"

"How could it?" Billy asked, shaking his head in confusion. "It's a part of me. It can't do anything without me knowing and feeling it and I could stop it if I had to...it listens to me. We work together."

"So you have never been asleep and woken up to find something...different," Miles said, blushing as he remembered that night. Billy scratched his head before replacing his hat and shaking his head. "Never? You never found something...out of place, or couldn't find something, or had a cow suddenly go unaccounted for..."

Billy laughed, shaking his head even harder. "Mister Upshur I can't sit around blaming every lost sock on a curious Walrider. Shoot." Billy's eyes twinkled with amusement. Miles' frown deepened.

"You're wrong," Miles said, turning on his heel to stalk back toward the truck, the dog collar still in his hands.

"Mister...Miles," Billy called, jogging to catch up to the other man. "Is something the matter? Did something happen? Is this about yesterday with the video and..."

"Take me back to the house," Miles demanded, cutting Billy off with a raised hand. "I need to talk to your grandfather."

"You...you can't tell him," Billy said, his voice rising in panic. "He would have a heart attack from the worry of me using the swarm for such mundane tasks."

"Take me back," Miles reiterated. "Now."