Valley of the Dudes by Ryan Field

didn’t have any brains so he’d
     
better use his body while he still could.
     
He didn’t want to hear her voice at all. As it was, her normal tone of voice usually
     
made his ears ring.
     
So while his mother ranted endlessly about how he was nothing but a lazy, good
     
for-nothing fool, he frowned and remained quiet, taking her abuse. He told her exactly
     
what she wanted to hear; it was easier that way. He promised he’d focus on his own
     
career and that he’d start going to auditions again. And at the end of their conversation,
     
he looked up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming. Before his mother said goodbye and hung up, she always asked him to send her money. He sent her
     
a regular amount every month; he’d been doing this since he’d moved to New York. But
     
she always wanted more. He’d been sending her money for years and it never seemed to
     
be enough to keep her satisfied.
     
When Joey walked into the apartment, Anderson was still talking to his mother.
     
By that time, he was hanging over the side of a chair and the phone was six inches from
     
his ear. Anderson smiled at Joey and told his mother he’d put a check in the mail and that
     
he’d call her from Hollywood. Then he hung up the phone while she was still talking, and
     
crossed the room so he could greet Joey properly. His entire life revolved around Joey
     
walking through that door, and he never took it for granted.
     
Joey smiled and removed his jacket. He looked Anderson’s body up and down
     
and said, “Every guy should be lucky enough to come home to someone like you after a
     
hard day at work.”
     
Anderson put his arms around Joey’s shoulders and whispered, “I’m the lucky
     
one. I don’t know many other gay guys who have a real man like you.” Then he fell into
     
Joey’s arms and kissed him on the lips. “You are all man, Joey Delaney.”
     
Anderson knew Joey liked having his male ego stroked this way. But Anderson
     
meant every word. There were times, while Joey was sleeping, when he would sit and
     
stare at Joey’s dark wavy hair and his rugged black Irish features. Though Joey wasn’t
     
male model material, and by no means as attractive as Anderson, he was the man of
     
Anderson’s dreams. Joey wasn’t bulging with muscle; he had the long lanky body of a
     
swimmer and the unanimated personality of a straight man. Hr didn’t shave his legs or
     
color his hair. The only time his pubic hair was trimmed was when Anderson did it for him. Joey couldn’t have cared less about the drapes, the carpets, or the furniture. He even
     
liked to drink beer and watch baseball in his boxer shorts. Joey Delaney broke every gay
     
stereotype that had ever been invented. And Anderson couldn’t do enough to please him.
     
The lines of distinction regarding the dynamics of their relationship were clear
     
and concise. Anderson was always the one who went down on his knees or lifted his legs
     
in the air. Joey was always the alpha male in charge. So while they were still kissing,
     
Anderson reached down and grabbed Joey’s belt buckle. He slowly walked backwards,
     
toward the bed, pulling Joey’s belt. When they reached to foot of the bed, Anderson
     
stopped kissing and removed his boxer briefs so he’d be completely naked. Then he
     
climbed up on the foot of the bed, rested on his knees, and unfastened Joey’s pants.
     
When Joey’s pants dropped to his ankles, Anderson reached into the fly of Joey’s
     
boxer shorts and pulled out his erection. Joey had never been circumcised, and Anderson
     
never grew tired of sliding Joey’s foreskin back with his lips. He held Joey’s erection in
     
his palm and wet his lips. Before he opened his mouth, he looked up at Joey and said, “I
     
hope you’re not too tired. I know you worked hard tonight.” They had been a completely
     
monogamous couple for over a year by then. They’d both been