The world was a blur. The green grass, blue sky, and pink flowers all became one, spinning around and around. All he knew was the wet of the dew mixing with his sweat, the soft touch of the grass as it brushed along his skin, the clinging of the flower petals as they stuck to his T-shirt.

The music was all around him. It was inside him, too, pouring through his veins and pounding along with his heart. His mind was set one thing: the music. His body followed along as he rolled across the wet ground, moving perpetually, never stopping.

He was barely aware of Ren being there at all. The other boy's voice sounded faint, and it was often drowned out by the rocking music. He didn't mind it, though. He was glad to roll along without the distraction, so he tuned out everything but the music. So what happened next was his fault, really.

Willard hit a large rock and veered off course, knocking Ren's legs out from under him, and the two boys rolled down a short hill and landed in a mass of limbs. Willard hit the ground head first with a jarring "THUD!" and his hat6 flew from his head, landing a few yards away.

Pulling his head up, he became aware that he was lying on top of Ren. Blushing, he apologized repeatedly and started to sit up. Ren grabbed his shirt and stopped him, though. The city boy grinned and said, in a mock "country" voice, "Well, dang, boy. You okay?"

"Yeah," Willard said, trying to get up again. Ren wouldn't let him go.

"You're sure you're not hurt? You hit that rock pretty hard," Ren said, his arms wrapping around Willard's waist. His hands ran along Willard's back, tracing his spine. What was he doing? Searching for injuries?

"I'm fine, Ren," Willard assured him. "Really . . . I am . . ." His voice trailed off when he realized just how close he was to Ren. He was sort of sitting up, his hands on either side of Ren's head, so their upper bodies were touching. But his waist rested against Ren's thigh, and their legs were intertwined.

Grasping just how awkward this situation was, Willard blushed again. His face must have been the same color of the petals that clung to the skin and clothes of both boys.

"Let me up, Ren," Willard demanded, struggling slightly. Ren's arms were like a steel vice. He couldn't get away.

"Why?" Ren asked, his grin widening. His arms traveled up Willard's back, so that one was placed firmly between the other boy's shoulder blades as the other gently stroked his neck. "I have you right where I want you."

Before Willard could ask what the heck he was talking about, Ren lunged forward. Willard's eyes popped open in surprise and confusion as their lips met. For a single second, a wave of electricity washed over him. Then Ren pulled back, grinning mischievously. Willard could only stare at him and gape like a fish out of water, his mouth moving but no sound emerging.

"What's wrong, Willy?" Ren laughed. One of his hands rand own to the small of Willard's back, then slipped under his T-shirt. "You act as though you've never been kissed before."

"I have too been kissed before!" Willard said indignantly. He wanted to add that he had never been kissed by another guy, but couldn't find the words. It was hard to concentrate with Ren's hand on his bare skin.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Ren asked, moving his other hand to the front of Willard's neck, tracing his jaw line with one finger.

Willard shuddered and turned his head away from Ren's fingers. "I already told you I have," he said.

"There's a difference between kissing and being kissed," Ren pointed out. "Like just now: I kissed you, but you didn't kiss me. So have you ever kissed anyone, Willard?"

"Yes," Willard growled, annoyed. "I have."

"Then why don't you show me what you can do?" Ren laughed and pressed his lips against Willard's again.

This time, Willard didn't pull away. He leaned into the kiss, pushing back against Ren. He didn't know why he didn't stop, why he didn't go home.

Because it was a contest. Ren was messing with him, playing with him. He wasn't going to let the new kid in town get the better of him. Not without a fight, anyway.

This was what he told himself as his lips moved against Ren's, but he didn't believe it. There was something else that kept them locked together. He only wished he knew what. What was this electric feeling that shot through every one of his cells? What was he doing, lying on top of another boy? What was he going to say if someone from school randomly walked by and saw him?

Before he could even hope to answer those questions, Ren leaned back and rested his head in the grass again. The electric sensation left him, except for the small of his back. There, Ren had laced his fingers together under Willard's shirt and was tapping his fingers against his bare skin. Each little tap! sent a pulse through Willard's body.

"That was pretty good," Ren mused. Then, without warning, he flipped Willard onto his back and rolled on top of him, pinning him down. "Now, why don't you let me show you what I'm made of?"

He clamped his mouth over Willard's and the electric buzzing sensation returned. Ren's lips were so soft against his, moving tenderly over Willard's. Then Ren ran his lips along Willard's jaw and down his neck.

Willard sighed, staring up at the branches above him. They overlapped and intertwined with each other, blocking out the majority of the sky. A gentle breeze blew through the trees, sending the pink petals flying in a snow like flurry. They sailed down, dancing around the two boys.

"You're so much better at this than me," Willard said as Ren's lips moved back to his mouth. They kissed again, then Ren moved back slightly, keeping their faces only a few inches apart. Willard asked, "Could you . . . show me how to get better at it?"

Ren laughed and slid one hand under Willard's shirt again. "Sure I could. It just takes practice, like dancing."

"So you'll help me?"

"Sure," Ren said with a smirk. "But we'll have to practice a lot. I'd say," He pretended to think about it. "Three or four times a day. Maybe more."

"That's alright with me," Willard said softly, not believing his own words as he leaned up to kiss Ren's chin. Ren wrapped his arm around Willard's back and pulled him closer, bring their lips together again.

They sat embraced for what seemed like an eternity before Ren stood up. He walked over to where Willard's hat lay and tossed it to its owner. "Come on, cowboy," he said with a wolfish grin. "Let's try that rolling thing again. And watch where you're going this time!"