'Town' wasn't how Adam would describe it. More like a small collection of buildings in the middle of nowhere where two roads just happen to intersect. There wasn't even a traffic light. There was something that passed as a grocery store, a few other small business, a gas station of course, and on the edge of the crossroads, a farming supply store that had a rather impressive collection of farm equipment sitting out front. Bruce pulled the truck into the gravel covered parking lot in front of the building and hopped out.
There was a man already exiting the building as Adam followed Bruce out of the car. He was maybe only a year or two older than Bruce, but the two looked cut from the same country boy cloth. Curly blond hair was pulled back in a short bun and quashed under a ballcap, and he wore grease stained coveralls that hugged a muscular body that would have been impressive if he wasn't standing next to Bruce, who towered over him by a few inches. He had been getting used to Bruce's size, but seeing him around other people drove home again how big he was. "Who's the kid?" The new arrival said in a gruff voice as he laid eyes on Adam.
"Kid?" Adam started up incredulously, but Bruce made a hand motion at him and he cut off the small tirade he was about to launch into, surprising himself with his obedience.
"Carson, Adam, Adam, Carson." Bruce went on. "Adam here is a family friend helping out on the farm over the summer." Bruce looked over to Adam with that stupid smile of his. "Why don't you start getting our stuff loaded and I'll join you in a second." He said, motioning to a nearby pile of lumber and a stack of looped wire. Adam grumbled but did just that, grabbing a pair of work gloves out of the back of the truck, deciding the wire might be easier to lug around than the wood.
He hefted one coil and found it wasn't quite as heavy as he thought it was going to be and grabbed a second in his other hand. "Listen, Carson.." Bruce went on, talking low, but not low enough for Adam to not hear. "I was thinking we grab Tate and restart our Saturday night poker games."
Carson glanced over at Adam then back to Bruce. "I wouldn't mind, and I know Tate enjoyed them. But we need a fourth." Adam didn't hear if Bruce responded, but Carson went on. "What? The kid? He's what? Fourteen?"
"I'm eighteen!" Adam shouted over as he tossed the bundlees of barbed wire into the back of the truck, earning him a scowl from Carson and a slight smile from Bruce.
"See? He's eighteen. So were you once, you old grump." Bruce said, nudging Carson in the shoulder, even though the guy couldn't be older than maybe twenty-two. It was hard to judge with the same type of build as Bruce had, but his face was still young.
"Fine, but I don't want to hear any bitching when the kid ends up fleeced. I'll let Tate know. Usual spot?" Carson asked, shoving a hand into the pockets of his work coveralls, and pulling out a small tin. He offered it first to Bruce who shook his head, then shrugged and popped it open, digging out some of the chew for himself.
"Usual spot. Your turn to bring the beers." Bruce added with another nudge, Carson's face clearly showing annoyance that Bruce remembered that last little detail. There was no more between the two as Carson headed back towards the garage where a tractor was waiting for him and Bruce came over, shooting Adam a mischievous smile as he gathered up the fence posts.
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Adam drove the tool into the ground again, spreading the arms and yanking out another large plug of dirt, leaving another hold for a fence post. Several yards away Bruce was getting another post set in one of the holes, then driving it down with a few heavy swings of a sledge hammer. The metal head hitting the wood post with a solid thunk. Bruce never seemed to miss the post with his wide swings.
Adam wasn't even halfway across the distance he was supposed to cover, and he already felt winded, but Bruce was doing almost three times the work, and while a fine sheen of sweat covered the other man he seemed to hardly be tired at all. Adam sighed and trudged over towards the truck, leaning his post hole digger against the side of the truck and picking up the metal canteen Bruce had filled with water before they came out.
He uncapped it, only to have it plucked from his grip by a larger hand. Bruce just smirked down at him and took a swig. Swallowing, he gave the metal canteen a wiggle. "This is mine. If you're thirsty, you know where to get your drink."
For a brief moment, Adam was confused, then looked at Bruce's chest, annoyingly eye level with him, then up at the bigger guy. "Oh, c'mon. Just a sip, and besides, it'll be warm."
"So's this." Bruce said, giving the canteen another shake. He unhooked one shoulder strap of his overalls, letting the denim fall to expose his fuzzy pec. "Hurry up, we need to get back to work, I want this done today." Adam scrunched his nose in disgust, but he remembered last night and licked his dry lips. He could refuse, of course, not like Bruce could force him to drink, but his parched throat was going to only get worse. With a reluctant sigh he leaned in, closing his eyes. The first thing he tasted as his mouth found Bruce's plump nipple was salty sweat. Sharp and tangy, the sweat captured in his chest hair filling his nostrils with a musky, earthy scent. It's wasn't the stale, putrid smell of the locker room back at his high school. It was almost, sort of, not unpleasant.
The salty taste in his mouth was soon washed away as he sucked. It took a few coaxing moments, but soon Adam's mouth was filled with rich warm milk. He tried not to think of the source, instead just imagining himself drinking it from the jug, even if it was warm. He felt a hand settle on the back of his head, thick calloused fingers running through his hair. He felt himself relaxing, just getting into the rhythm of drinking, breathing in that musky scent through his nose.
After what felt like a few long minutes he pulled away, licking his lips clean. "Better?" A deep voice asked, his mind felt foggy and it took him a moment to focus on Bruce. He felt a dopey grin slide across his face as he nodded.
"I'm good." He said. Not only was his thirst quenched, but he felt like he just had a good meal. He fixated on Bruce's face, and his grin widened a little. He really was quite good looking, he thought, wondering why he hadn't paid attention to that before. He thought of going to his tip toes, pressing his lips against Bruce's, feeling that scratchy beard on his face.
Adam snapped back to reality suddenly, taking a few quick steps back from Bruce before he acted on that sudden impulse. He had never thought of kissing another guy before, it was bad enough having to suck on his nipple much less actually wanting to kiss him. He wanted to wipe his lips on the back of his hand as if he had actually done the deed. Worse, he could feel his cock straining the fabric of his underwear. "What was that..?" Adam said, shaking his head.
Bruce just laughed, "Nothing unexpected." He didn't bother refastening his overalls, leaving the one pec on display almost as a taunt to Adam. Or maybe meant as a temptation. He did sling the canteen strap over his shoulder so it hung at his side where Adam definitely couldn't get to it.
"Tell me." Adam rushed up to Bruce, trying to get into his way, even if it was like a kid trying to stop a train from going forward. But Bruce did stop, looking down at Adam. He seemed to be thinking, himself, like trying to make sense of it himself. Then out of nowhere, Bruce grabbed Adam and forced him into a headlock. It was a sudden flashback to some of their childhood encounters which usually came down to Bruce just overpowering Adam. Only this time it was almost disdainfully easy for Bruce to manhandle him. Adam tried to push his way out of the powerful arm wrapped around his head, his face shoved into Bruce's hairy, sweat pit.
The smell was the same as Bruce's sweat covered chest but only stronger. Adam tried to pull himself free, shoving his hands against Bruce's arm and stomach. But it was like trying to push a giant rock uphill. The thick musky smell filled his nostrils and although Adam wanted to feel disgusted he wasn't. Worse, his cock began responding to the fresh sweat smell again. "Let me go!" He shouted, and Bruce's grip slackened. Adam slipped away and made a face, trying to convince Bruce, and maybe himself that he found the experience disgusting. "Fuck you. I don't need to be shoved in your hairy, gross pit bush." He grumbled while rubbing his nose, trying to get the smell away, but only to calm his dick which was still responding to the lingering aroma.
"Hairy, gross pit bush?" Bruce echoed, with a laugh. "Like this?" He reached out, Adam though to grab him into another headlock, but instead Bruce's hand clasped around his wrist and lifted Adam's arm into the air. Adam had arm pit hair, sure, but it had always been fairly wispy, but as Adam looked over as his arm was lifted in the air he saw a thick black tangle of hair sticking out from his exposed pit. How had he not noticed that during his last shower?
Adam tried to yank his arm free, but Bruce leaned in and gave Adam's pit a good sniff. "Smells like hard work to me." And only then he let Adam go. "C'mon, back to work." Adam rubbed his wrist angrily as he watched Bruce's retreating back as he headed over to drive in the next post. Though between two steps, he took an awkward one, looking almost like he was taking a moment to adjust himself down below. Something that made an unexpected wave of satisfaction wash through him.
Adam headed back to grab his digger from the truck, surreptitiously lifting his arm to take a sniff. Oh, he reeked. Like Bruce, it wasn't a stale of unpleasant smell, just thick and musky. But it was different, like a similar recipe with different spices and just wasn't the same and didn't cause the stirring that Bruce's smell did.
As they continued their work, he found himself continuously sneaking peeks at Bruce, each time a small smile forming on his lips.