Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

livestock. We have to do chores. Before the shower."
    "You have to do chores," Trey teased him. "I'm a guest and I'm wearing my good jeans. I don't muck out."
    He expected an equally rude comeback from Josh, but his friend just nodded. "Okay. Save me some hot water."
    Trey caught Josh's arm as he turned away. "Wait. That was a joke. Of course I'll help."
    "Really?" Josh's smile was tired but sweet. He looked at Trey with gratitude in his eyes, and his arm was warm and solid under Trey's hand.
    Trey let go immediately. "Yeah. Sure. Just tell me what to do."
    "There's not too much, luckily." Josh turned for the barn. "Uncle Ted wrote it up. The pony and the goats need some hay tossed out, but they're in pastures so there's no actual mucking. The cats get kibble, the chickens get grain. He said we can just leave the eggs if we don't want to bother, but we might as well gather them. The rabbits get fed and fresh shavings every couple of days."
    "Rabbits?"
    "And the camel..."
    Trey stopped short. "Tell me you're kidding."
    Josh smiled. "I'm kidding. No camel. There's an alpaca though. It's in with the pony. Uncle Ted claims the pony is calmer since he got a buddy, but I'm not pushing my luck." Josh paused and glanced toward the house. "You really want to get changed first?"
    "Are you going to?"
    "Nah, not worth it. The store was dusty enough, these are going in the wash anyway."
    Trey looked ruefully at his favorite jeans but said, "Mine too."
    Chores were actually a kind of pleasure. The three barn cats came hurrying over as they approached, demanding their due. They stropped themselves around Trey's ankles, giving little questioning burbles and the occasional loud meow. Josh measured out kibble while Trey stroked ears and scratched backs. Of course as soon as food was down, they abandoned him for the real attraction. Dumped again. But he smiled, watching them dig into the kibble with single-minded attention.
    Josh said, "Quit flirting with the cats and help me feed." The bigger animals also came hurrying over when they approached with scoops and flakes of hay. Trey pulled the flakes apart for easier eating, feeling the scratch of the stalks on his hands, smelling that sweet dried-grass scent. That smell always took him back to another hobby farm, that old place of Aunt Julie's, home for a couple of months each summer to a younger Josh, and for those months the center of Trey's world.
    This was almost the same. Him and Josh in a barn, tending to a new motley crew of creatures, this time laughing at the antics of mini-goats and the snooty arrogance of the alpaca. There was the familiar crunch of teeth on grain, the clucking of the hens, and the sun barely touching the tops of the trees across the pasture. Warm summer air and the occasional buzz of an insect, and Josh almost giggling as one little goat jumped clear over another. For a moment Trey felt an almost dizzy déjà vu, remembering standing back watching a fifteen-year-old Josh laugh at a curious calf. He'd been so glad his friend was healing and laughing again, and yet so unable to control the way a smile on that boy's face made him feel. And damn it all to hell, I still can't.
    But he was an adult now, and even if he felt it, he didn't have to show it. "Hey, who braves the hens to get those eggs?"
    In the end, they both cradled eggs in their scratched fingers as they strolled back toward the house. Trey asked, "Why does your aunt always have the most aggressive chickens known to man? I remember when we were kids they were just as bad, but these can't possibly be the same chickens."
    Josh shrugged. "I don't know, what's the lifespan of a chicken?"
    For some reason that made Trey snicker. "About two minutes, from coop to stew-pot, if I had my way."
    "Aunt Julie would disown you."
    They put the eggs in the fridge, and Trey headed to his car for his bags while Josh grabbed the first shower. Trey lingered, taking a couple of trips to transfer his things to the house and then going back into the store for his forgotten computer bag, staying away from any risk of encountering a wet Josh. By the time he had everything inside the front door, Josh was safely out of the shower and dressed.
    Trey grabbed a T-shirt and shorts and headed into the bathroom. He locked the door, stripped off his clothes, and peered at himself in the already foggy mirror. In that dream world where Josh turned gay overnight, would he like what he saw? Enough guys had. Trey was lean and muscled; he