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a night in the hay loft

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“Look, Ryan, I’m not saying I don’t believe you… It’s just… what you’re posing is a little uh, much, dontcha think?” Shane said, squinting at the phone screen in front of him.

Ryan sputtered. “W-Well…! What do you think that is? What could that possibly be?”

Shane used his index finger to rewind the 23 second long video and scratched at his nose as he watched it play through for a fourth time, and kind of shrugged. “Rocket testing?” he suggested. “New type of airplane? I dunno, it looks like a bundle of Christmas lights caught in a tree.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and shoved his phone into his back pocket and ran his fingers desperately through his black hair like he was trying to compose himself, clearly frustrated that Shane as dismissing what was concerning him. “Neither of us can-can definitively say what it is… And you know what you call something in the air-in-in the night sky when you don’t know what it is? A UFO! It’s unidentified, it’s flying, and it’s sure as fuck an object.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little cliche? Two farm boys claiming to see aliens?” Shane joked. He sat at the table while Ryan pulled on his boots.

“Maybe there’s-there’s a reason that stereotype exists.”

“We don’t grow corn… You think we’ll be the first farm to have a crop circle in a hay field?” Shane was talking like he was daydreaming out loud, scheming up ideas to capitalize it if it ever happened.

“Oh, fuck you,” Ryan muttered. He was standing in the doorway. “I’m gonna-I’ll be in the hay barn if you finally get your big head together and want to come admit you agree that I have footage of aliens.”

Once Ryan was out the door, Shane called after him, “I’ll be here! Doing the dishes you dirtied!”


Shane and Ryan had moved onto their current property several years ago when it had been put up for sale after the previous owner passed away; it was meant to go to his children, but none of them contacted the real estate agent for rights, so Shane and Ryan got a good price. It was a few hundred acres of land and they got by rather well selling hay to other local farmers and raising chickens and goats.

Ryan liked most to be in charge of the hay, baling it, and moving it to and from the loft. His arms were round and toned from it all; maybe it made him feel less small. Whatever the reason, Shane wasn’t complaining.

Shane, on the other hand, loved to take care of the birds and goats. They raised pygmy goats and several breeds of bantam chickens. They sold eggs and goats milk (if any of the female goats were lactating at the time) for pocket change, but for main profit? Shane would bring the animals to schools, colleges, petting zoos to educate kids in an interactive way.

He would do birthday parties, too, on occasion, but only if all kids were 12 or older. He didn’t want any children getting hurt, but more so, he didn’t want toddlers grabbing at his pets.

By sunset, Ryan finally made his way back into the house, a nice sheen of sweat over his face and neck, little bits of hay stuck in his hair and on his jeans. Shane was still cooking and smiled when his husband entered the kitchen.

“Work hard enough that the notion of aliens has finally left your mind?” Shane teased.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Haha, how funny,” he deadpanned.

“Go shower. You’re tracking hay and dirt all over the place.”

They had dinner together, sitting across from each other at the longest ends of the table, and Ryan kept talking about posting his footage and seeing who would come forward with ideas. He even wanted to bring it to town hall, get pictures posted in the paper.

“No one reads the paper anymore. And christ, Ryan, that’ll throw other wackos like you into-into a complete panic.”

Ryan shoveled more green beans into his mouth. It was clear that he was hungry. “I just wanna know if-if anyone else around here has seen anything weird.”

“Then let’s stake it out tonight. Set up camp in the hay barn and see what we see.”

There was a moment of quiet while Ryan kind of looked at Shane, his dark eyes flickering up and down. “Alright. I’ll set up the camera, the good one, get it out of the attic… We can bring uh, sleeping bags and shit…”

Shane smiled. There was no way in hell they’d actually see aliens, but it was fun to entertain Ryan in his interests, and it would be nice to spend a night together, even if Ryan was going on and on about UFOs.


Ryan wouldn’t stop fiddling with the tripod. He kept insisting that he had to get the perfect angle so nothing would disrupt the framing or coloring or quality when the UFO came into sight.

Shane was sitting on a checkered blanket and sipping a Coke while looking through recommended Instagram accounts. Most of them were other farmers, and sliver of them were shitty meme accounts.

Once Ryan was finally satisfied, he sat next to Shane and without thought, cozied up to his side, Shane slinging an arm around him and pulling him closer.

“When you see this, I swear, Shane, you’re gonna piss yourself.”

Shane laughed. “I brought extra blankets but, oh darn, no extra pants. Guess the aliens will have to see me, Shane Madej, in all my naked glory when they land on our farm.”

Ryan laughed, too. “I think if they see that first thing, they’re gonna pack up and leave.” He poked Shane in the side and sort of nuzzled against his neck, prove to Shane that he was being sarcastic and playful, that was, in fact, his was of showing affection.

“I’d leave, too!” Shane announced like he had an audience more than just Ryan. “Naked Bigfoot? You’ve come to the wrong planet, buddy!”

Ryan completely unraveled into a fit of laughter, holding his sides as he vibrated with giggles and wheezes, amused as a child.

Around 2 am, Shane was getting tired and was curled up on the floor of the loft, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets while Ryan stared at the sky still as detertimed as when they started the night.

“C’mon, dude, you’re gonna miss it and think my footage is bullshit if you’re asleep,” Ryan said in a hushed voice.

Shane made a little sound in his throat. “Aliens should've showed up earlier. Our schedules don’t line up,” he muttered, half asleep. “Come lay down for a minute.”

“No way, man. They’re gonna- the thing is gonna be here any second!”

Shane rolled onto his back and spread his arms out as far as they would go, splayed on the ground looking like Jesus on the cross. With his left arm, he brought his hand inward, bent at the elbow and patted his stomach.

Ryan hesitated, glancing back at the open field that the barn overlooked, glancing at his camera and making sure it was still recording, then crawled on top of Shane so their chests were pressed together.

Craning his neck up, Shane locked Ryan into a kiss, mouths closed, eyes fluttering shut, Shane’s hands falling into place on the small of Ryan’s back.

It was clear that Ryan was already flushed; just one innocent kiss and everything about his features looked miracuously disheveled, as if Shane was some magical trickster that had come to earth just to work him up.

They kissed again and the air between them shifted as soon as Shane opened his mouth, encouraging Ryan to do the same, and pressing his teeth gently down on the top of Ryan’s tongue. Ryan whimpered, a shudder going through his body that Shane could feel above him.

“I don’t think this counts as alien watching anymore,” Ryan whispered, a giggle between his teeth like he was flustered.

Shane smiled wide, his eyes crinkled shut. “I don’t think so either,” he wheezed.

They kissed again, a bit more aggressive this time, and Shane’s hands silently drifted downwards, to the edge of Ryan’s jeans, pulling at the waistband, and consent came as an eager whine and a slight thrust against Shane’s front.

Ryan’s fingers were shaking slightly as he started to work on the buttons of Shane’s plaid, popping them open systematically until they were all undone and Shane, his hands retracting from their position, sat on his elbows to shuck off his shirt.

“Love you,” Shane murmured, kissing at Ryan’s neck, his hands snaking between them both to unzip Ryan’s jeans. The angle was awful and strained Shane’s wrists terribly, but he didn’t care enough to sit up.

Ryan was practically panting, grinding himself into the flatness of Shane’s palm, too eager to even let him get his pants off to stop. “Love you, too, big guy,” he whispered.

Shane successfully got Ryan’s pants and boxers down enough for his cock to be free, pressed to the coarse denim of Shane’s jean, then went to work on removing his own.

Finally, both their pants were down, bunched around their ankles, and their cocks tentatively touched, throbbing against each other, skin velvet soft and already wet with precum. Ryan squirmed and attempted to rut, but seemed, in Shane’s opinion, too embarrassed to take control.

“Sweetheart,” Shane whispered in a voice so soft and quiet, he was unsure if Ryan had even heard him.

Shane thrusted upwards, cursing the horrible angle they were positioned in, not getting enough friction being beneath Ryan, their cockheads pressed together as if in a kiss. He could feel Ryan’s heartbeat, the steady throb ticking through his dick

“Please…,” Ryan whimpered. His face was buried in the crook of Shane’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you, darling,” Shane reassured.

He slid his right hand between them and gripped both their cocks, Ryan tensing up and gasping purely from the simple contact, then slowly began to work his wrist, letting Ryan thrust into his palm and against his own cock.

“H-Harder,” Ryan managed out in a strained voice.

Shane did as instructed and moved faster, their slicks cocks sliding together, making a wet sound, his calloused fingers long enough to wrap around both with ease. Ryan kept time with his movements, grinding down in even enough strokes that his cockhead peaked out from Shane’s fist at times.

“F-Fuck,” Shane cursed, closing his eyes, his eyebrows knit together, his free hand landing on Ryan’s shoulder blade and his blunt fingernails digging into the soft but toned skin there, cutting hard, maybe enough to bring blood to the surface.

“Please,” Ryan whimpered again, as though one of the only words he could think of at the time. He was biting at Shane’s neck, sending little prickles of goosebumps through Shane.

Shane, despite his arm seizing up, starting to go numb from the position it was bent at, picked up the pace even more, their wet cocks still making a squelching sound in the near silence of the barn, hearts hammering, panting hot breath on each others skin, eyes wired shut.

Ryan was first to cum, stiffening suddenly and bowing his head to Shane’s chest, his cum splattering Shane’s front in long, messy trails, crying out his name, cheeks stained with warm tears of relief.

And Shane followed shortly after, cumming on his own stomach, finding Ryan’s mouth during it and kissing him hard, moaning into his mouth, his breath humid and thick.

They were a tangle of limbs, coiled into each other, heavy and warm, content with lying there just like that, hearts metrognoming in mimic of the other.

And at that point, nearing 2:30 am, the whole loft filled with a bright green glow.