Orlando Fanworks Challenge: Sugar Cain by Mark Treble

It’s been a rough week. Daron has been working us like a slave-driver for what seems like months. Now, we’ve got to forget everything (or memorize everything, who knows?) for about six weeks, then rush through getting ready for the tour.

Today’s the last day before the break, thank God. Can’t believe my luck, a buddy sent me two plane tickets to Orlando and two five-day passes to Disney World. Chet and his wife, what’s her name, had to give up their vacation when Chet’s grandfather suddenly died. I guess he could have skipped the funeral, but he wasn’t about to skip reading the will. He’s expecting to inherit enough to buy lifetime passes to the place with plenty left over.

There’s that kid again, Carn, or Canaan, or something. Nice looking kid, shy, tries to be helpful and stay out of the way at the same time. He’s been helping people move amps and stools and shit for almost the whole week. When he’s not doing that he’s trying to eat Daron alive with his eyes. I’m not sure Daron has noticed the kid’s even here.

I mean, I like Daron, and not just because we had sex once in Japan. I’ve learned a lot from him, even at my age, and he’s a genuinely good guy. I respect him, but this kid seems to worship him like some kind of god.

“Hey, I’m Mitch. Who are you?” The kid looked like he wanted to run away and hide. But, I hadn’t seen other people talking to him, and I figured he could use a friend.

The kid looked down and shuffled his feet, blew his long bangs off his forehead, then stared into the distance over my shoulder. “I’m Cain.” Well, that’s informative.

“What do you do around here, Cain? You going on tour with us?” Oops. The poor guy looked stricken. “It’s lunchtime, I’m hungry, you want to eat?” He stared at his feet without saying a word.

“Look, I’m paying, and I promise I’m not an alien here to abduct you. OK?” He nodded his head and followed me out the door wordlessly, around the corner and into a half-full deli.

I asked him what he wanted to eat. He sat silently for a full minute. “Could I have maybe just a glass of water and a piece of bread, or some crackers?” I now knew a whole lot more about him than he probably realized.

“Cain, you haven’t eaten in a while. You’re couch-surfing or living on the street. You’re broke, you’re bored, except when you’re looking at Daron. Talk to me.” I could see his eyes turning moist.

“I’m couch-surfing. I haven’t eaten in a couple of days. But, I’ve got a job as a day janitor coming up in just over a week, and then I start a regular gig in a house band.” He said this last proudly. He should. Having a regular gig is something we’re all proud of when we have it. “Water and crackers?”

I ordered two large cheeseburgers, two orders of fries and two large chocolate milk shakes. When I took my second bite, Cain finished swallowing the last half of his food. He looked a lot better. I gave him the rest of my fries.

Eventually I got him to talk about himself, and Daron. He met Daron on tour when he played bass with their opening band. “Bunch of assholes, made me write ‘Faggot’ on the back of Daron’s bus, then things started getting violent and all. Daron rescued me, and I got on as a roadie with their new opening band. I ran into him again in Boston at a benefit concert. A riot broke out, and Daron rescued me again. I owe him.”

“Is that why you’re hanging around?” I was really curious now.

“Yeah, I want to help him any way I can. I know I’m not good enough to go on tour with him, but maybe some day I can.” He paused. “Why are you talking to me?”

I laughed. “You looked hungry and lost and all sorts of stuff. Been there, done that. Rehearsals are breaking tomorrow, what are you going to do with yourself?” The look of panic was unmistakable. He didn’t have a clue. Couch-surfing maybe, begging, selling his ass on the street? Fuck.

It popped out unexpected, shocked the shit out of me. “You want to go to Disney World with me?”

Cain laughed. “Oh, sure. We can ride down in Cinderella’s pumpkin and wake up Sleeping Beauty to give us the grand tour.” He started whistling “When You Wish Upon a Star.”

“I’m dead serious. I scored two free plane tickets, free hotel and two five day passes at Disney World. I leave tomorrow and don’t have anybody to go with me.” I recognized that look; he thought I was a cobra.

Just then Daron walked in and I waved to him. After greetings I asked him to reassure Cain I wasn’t dangerous and wasn’t planning on harvesting his vital organs. Daron gave the right assurances, then went off to another table with a short bass player and a young drummer.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Realization was slowly dawning on Cain that the offer was genuine. And, it was dawning on me that I couldn’t take it back.

“If it makes a difference, I’m gay. I’m not planning on coming on to you, by the way. This is just a couple of guys taking a vacation.” I saw shock overtake his face, and realized I had fucked it up by telling him I was gay. Or, maybe not.

Cain took my hand in his and raised my fingertips to his lips. He kissed each one, then said “I’m not planning on coming on to you, either. But, you know, plans change….”

I picked him up the next morning in a taxi and we headed to the airport. I wasn’t sure if Cain had ever flown before, or if it was unusual, or what. He kept looking out the window, his face a study in awe. We took a taxi from the Orlando airport to the resort, and Cain’s smile didn’t falter for the next five days.

We stayed in one of the hotels on the property. That saved time because we were already there first thing in the morning, and didn’t have to leave at night. We had breakfast and dinner thrown into the reservation, so all we had to worry about was lunch and souvenirs. I wasn’t sure how much of that he ever understood. Cain was here to be a kid, and what kid sweats the details?

Day one was spent at the Magic Kingdom. We did the Jungle River Cruise, the Tea Cups, Pirates of the Caribbean and every other kids’ ride we could get into. One of Cain’s favorite activities was hanging around the castle, watching the characters interact with the public. I got pictures of Cain with Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse and Goofy. He loved it. We ate hot dogs and hamburgers (and, of course, pizza when we could find it) and had a blast. When we got back to the hotel we had a light meal and went straight to bed. Cain was looking at me expectantly.

“No sex, Cain, at least for now. I brought you along for company, that’s it. We can talk about it later, OK?”

Day two was the Magic Kingdom again. We did most of the same things we’d done the first day, but Cain didn’t want to stand still for more character photos, so we got to experience some other parts of the Kingdom. We remembered where the pizza was, and that was lunch. Oh, and dinner before we left. Back to the hotel, light dinner, then The Talk.

“Cain, I like you. I’m older, and I don’t want to take advantage of you. It’s fine if we just sleep.” Cain had other ideas.

He took off all of his clothes and folded them neatly on a nightstand. I reached for my shirt buttons, and he brushed aside my hand. Cain undressed me completely, and looked at me expectantly. I got condom and lube out of my travel kit, and he lit up. He took the lube and got himself ready, then did something with his mouth to put the condom on me. He lubed me up, too, then lay back and raised his legs to my shoulders. It was exquisite.

After the glow started to fade we continued The Talk. “Mitch, I’m twenty and horny. I don’t care how old you are, or whether you think you’re taking advantage of me or not, just remember my age and the fact that I’m horny as hell.” That took care of the rest of The Talk. We cuddled for a few minutes, and Cain started to snore.

He wanted to go back to the Magic Kingdom on the third day, but I convinced him to try the movie studio. We got on all sorts of rides, including a couple of roller-coasters. There were some scary rides, and Cain said he wanted to go on those by himself because, “You’re too old to appreciate it.” He grinned while saying it, which took the sting out. Well, most of the sting anyway.

We varied the routine a little bit that night. Back in the room Cain asked me to make love to him. No fucking, just love-making. We were slow, we were gentle, and we were affectionate. Cain was nothing short of awesome, and finally admitted that this was the sex he liked best. Me, too. It was glorious.

Day four was Cain’s birthday. OK, no it wasn’t, I lied. I arranged a kids’ birthday party in our room at the hotel, with Mickey and Minnie and the gang. We had cake and ice cream and played games. One of the hotel managers tried to give me shit about having a kids’ party for adults. I told him that my nephew was mentally disabled, and I was offended. He apologized. Actually, that one was not much of a lie. Cain’s childhood had been dreary, and the last couple of years he had fallen on hard times. He was experiencing his never-before-visited childhood, and was thinking more like a ten-year-old than a twenty-year old. That was fine with me.

We spent the afternoon of day four at the Animal Kingdom, or whatever they call the place with all the animals. New York had a zoo I’d never visited (unless you counted the parties at Jordan’s), and Cain’s parents had never taken him to one. This was his first in-person view of large wild animals, and he was enthralled. At one point we saw two wildebeest mating. “I want to do that,” Cain said as he slid his hand over my zipper.

“Don’t you think you might scare the poor animal?” That earned me some very painful balls.

We returned (where else?) to the Magic Kingdom for day five, and did everything all over again. Cain played tour guide for me, grabbing my arm and explaining things he knew were going to happen. He talked non-stop through everything but the shows, which he enjoyed as well. We ended the trip with a picture of the two of us at the Castle, one on each side of Cinderella.

That night, at the hotel, Cain wanted to talk and I let him. “Mitch, this has been a dream. I can’t thank you enough. I know we probably won’t see each other again once the trip is over, but I don’t think I can ever forget you.” He started crying softly, so I held him.

“I don’t think I can ever forget you, either. I haven’t had this much fun since I was seven years old.” I kissed him gently, and he looked up at me with a grin.

“Now, where’s that bottle of lube?”

Heavily adapted from a forthcoming novel, The Men of Carolina, by Mark Treble.
© 2016 by Mark Treble. All Rights Reserved