Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys and is for adult eyes only. The acts are consensual and are a result of their love or lust for one another. This story is completely fiction, and all descriptions and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidental.
I would love to hear from you, so negative as well as positive feedback is always welcome! Please write: markwild082@yahoo.com
This is for my dad, Conner. I love you, man! Mark.
Boys in Control, pt. 7
Brothers and buddies
Parker was out in the garage when the yelling began. He was bent over his bike, oiling the chain. "Matt!" his dad yelled, and "What!" his brother yelled back, from upstairs. The young jock sat back on his calves, listening. "I told you I wanted this mess cleaned UP! ToDAY, Matt!" "Dammit, dad! I'm watching KING KONG!" Parker laughed, and his dad said, "I'll King Kong YOU, Matthew Nicholls! Now! And watch your mouth." Parker got up and walked into the house. His dad was standing at the bottom of the stairs. The livingroom was still in disarray. He saw Parker and said, "I can't even keep the house clean anymore. The place is always a mess..." It wasn't. Parker saw to that. "Hey, dad," the jock said, "relax. Let me see what I can do, huh?" John Nicholls snorted. "Good luck. It's obvious I can't talk to him..."
Parker looked at his dad then walked upstairs. He scratched himself under his arm, where it itched. He strolled into Matt's room and closed the door behind him. "Yo," he said, "doofus." Matt was propped up against the headboard of his bed, a couple of pillows under his back and neck. His arms were crossed in front of him, and he looked at his brother and said, "WHAT?" "Put in a tape, Matt, and hit 'record.' That's what it's there for." Matt hesitated, then got up and did as his brother had said. He looked at Parker and said, "Happy?" then went and plopped himself back against his pillows. Parker walked over and sat down next to him. "Now, Matt," he said, "you know you're my favorite little brother, right?" "Very funny, Park," Matt said, kicking at his brother's hip. Parker caught his foot and said, "Damn. Didn't you sleep last night or something? How come you're so grumpy?" "I slept just fine, Parker," his brother said, pulling his foot away. "Well, then, listen up, bro. You better go clean up your shit. Cause if you don't dad's gonna be riding your ass all night---and Bart's coming over, right?" "Yeah," Matt said, "Around four." "Well, then, dude. You want dad hanging around, or you want him to leave you guys alone?" He lifted his foot up, and wiggled it in his brother's face, grinning. Matt grabbed it and pushed it away and saw Parker's shorts flare open at the leg. "He better leave us alone," he said. "Well, then," Parker answered. "Think ahead, A-watt. Clean your shit up, get him off your back, and he'll leave you and Bart by yourselves. Damn, bro," he said, "It ain't rocket science.
Matt sulked, thinking that Parker maybe was right, but not wanting to admit it. Parker laughed, and crawled up and straddled his brother's stomach, not trying too hard... to grab his hands and pin them. Matt bucked, and hooted, and they tumbled around on top of each other for a few minutes till Parker, bigger than his bro, had him on his stomach, laughing, his arm pulled up behind his back. Parker leaned down, bouncing on the small of Matthew's back. "Yeah, bro, you're my bitch now, man," he whispered, laughing. "Fuck you," Matt panted. Parker reached down, and, holding Matt's arm, started to tickle him. "Yeowww!" Matt yelled, trying to twist his smaller, lighter body away, but Parker just tightened his legs against Matt's sides, and the boy wasn't going anywhere. Matt was twisting and laughing, kind of squealing. "STOP it, Parker." Parker leaned down. "Wrong answer, bro." He dug his fingers into Matt's side again, making the boy howl. He corkscrewed, but all his brother's weight was on him now, and his shoulder socket was starting to hurt. "Okay, OKAY," Matt panted, "I give."
Parker laughed, and rolled off his brother onto the bed. They lay there, breathing elevated, till Parker held his hand up. Matt hesitated, then high-fived him. "Now you try that out on Bart, okay?" "Yeah, Park," Matt said. "I'm gonna, now," then added, "Fuck, bro, you need a shower or something, man. You're really ripe, bro." "Yeah, well, maybe later, Matt. I'm not, uh, entertaining today, like you." Matt grinned and Parker rolled off the bed. "Now clean the friggin livingroom, okay? And put my CD's back. Then when you're done you can come out and help me with the car." From where he was lying on the bed Matt could see his brother's shorts all bunched up. Then Parker reached down and pulled at the leg flaps and Matt watched his hand and said, "Yeah, okay."
Downstairs his dad was standing at the kitchen counter, making a sandwich. "Well?" he said. Parker walked over and grabbed a slice of chicken his dad had cut off. "He'll be down in a minute," he said, his mouth full. Standing next to his son, John Nicholls was reminded just how much Parker had grown this last year. Parker was always a kid, in his mind, and now standing next to him, he saw again that he was as tall, and heavier, than he was, now. He was always so damn sure of himself, too, besides being so physically imposing. "So what'd you do?" he asked. "What'd you say that got through to him?" Parker laughed. "Not much." He pretended to spar with his dad a few, punching him in the shoulder. "I just slapped him around a little, you know?" John looked at his son, than back to the counter. "Okay," he said, "whatever." "So look," Parker said. "He's gonna clean up some, and I'm gonna finish oiling my bike then we're gonna wash the car." "You sure? You don't have to, you know." "No problem, dad. That way you can relax some and Matt and I'll spend some time together." "Well," his dad said. "I was thinking about going out to a movie later, maybe." Parker laughed. "Another one of those foreign films, dad?" "Yeah," John said. "You can tag along, if you want." "Nope. Got homework tonight. But you should go, dad. Get you out of the house for a change, you know?" "Yeah," his dad said, slicing off another portion of the breast. "I guess." "No, dad," Parker said. "Really. You should get out more, man. Matt and I are old enough to take care of ourselves now, you know? I mean," he added, grinning, "for a couple hours, anyway."
He heard Matt trudging down the stairs and went back out to the garage. His bike was upside down, resting on the seat and handlebar. Parker squatted down, methodically applying a drop of lube to every fourth or fifth link of the chain, turning the pedal slowly, checking the tautness. He drifted off a second, watching the wheel turn as every link advanced singly onto the waiting notch. He looked up, down the driveway, across the street, into the weeks ahead, past the Mountaineers game, then scratched himself and went back to the chain. He half heard Matt banging around in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. "Parker!" he yelled out the window. "What?" "You have any dirty plates or glasses in your room?" "No!" Parker yelled back. "Hey dad!" he heard his brother yell. "What?" "You have any dirty dishes in your room?" He heard Matt mumble something, and the dishwasher start. He banged out five minutes later with a plastic bag full of trash. He watched his older brother a second, bent over his bike, fiddling with the lines on his hand brakes. "I emptied all the wastebaskets upstairs," he said. Parker looked up. "Good." Matt rolled his eyes. "Dad's going out," Parker said. "YEAH?" His eyes lit up. "Yup," Parker grinned. "To a movie." "Fuckin eh," Matt said. Parker laughed. "Make my day," he answered. Matt laughed too, dropping the garbage bag into the trash can. It was something they said back and forth to each other.
When he returned ten minutes later Parker already had the hose out, and the bucket, and the brush. He had changed into a pair of running shorts and some old sneakers. He watched as Parker filled the bucket, then wet the car down top to bottom. Little by little they started getting splashed, and their tshirts wet. At one point Parker stood near the hood and aimed the hose right at Matt. "No way, bro," his brother warned him. "No way?" Parker grinned. "Okay." He aimed the hose onto the tires and hubcaps, splashing Matt's legs, but that was all. "You can do the tires," Parker said. "Damn, bro, why I always gotta do the tires?" Parker laughed. "Cause you're my bitch, bro! AND"---he waved it around---"I still got the hose."
They went to work then, for a little while, Matt scrubbing the rims, looking up every so often and seeing Parker stretched up washing the top, at his really powerful legs. He stood, and poked his brother to hand him the hose. "What?" "I gotta check the tires," Matt said. He rinsed them well, then squirted water at Parker's feet. Parker jumped. "No way, bro," he warned. "Ha! Who's my bitch now, hey Parker?" Matt giggled, squirting. Parker jumped again. "No way?" Matt said. "Okay." He grabbed the rag and started on the doors, and Parker moved back to the bumper. He was working on the mudflap when Parker asked him for the hose again. When the trunk was all rinsed down he smiled at Matt and stepped back like a gunslinger, aiming the nozzle right at him. Matt scrambled up straight. "No way, bro." Parker grinned back. "Not this time, Matt."
He hit the nozzle and the jet of water caught Matt dead in the chest, soaking him instantly, making him yelp. He tried to dodge, screaming "Hey! No fair!" but the more he squirmed the wetter he got. Parker was laughing, and cut off the spray. Matt looked at his brother, then stripped off his tshirt and twisted it lengthwise. He snapped it in the air like a towel, trying not to grin, and took a Frankenstein step forward. Parker played scared, and took a step back. Matt snapped the tshirt at him, then yelled and lunged forward, popping Parker in the stomach. Matt snapped hard, and hit Parker square. Unprepared, it stung, and the older boy fell back a step, surprised. "Bitch," Matt said, challengingly.
Parker dipped forward and grabbed it, though, jerking Matt in, wrapping his arm around his neck. He wiggled his fingers on Matthew's stomach, making him shriek. He tried to pry himself loose, but Parker had him choked but good. Ticklish as he was he bucked and yelled, pounding Parker's back and sides, till he weakened and Parker eased up. "There," the older jock said. "Now you won't stink so bad when Bart gets here." They pushed and jostled awhile before getting back to the car. Their dad watched them from the kitchen window, horsing around, two kids with more energy than he'd ever see again. Mostly he looked at Matt. He was kind of used to Parker, now, but Matt was really shooting up, too. He'd be in a higher weight class for sure, once wrestling season started. Well, he thought, at least there weren't many girls hanging around, yet. God only knows what he was picking up from his brother. Stray thoughts of his two sons making out, "studying" after school with girls they knew and thinking about their hands moving down, in his sons' crotches, made him feel suddenly funny. He moved away from the window, embarrassed, and went upstairs to shower.
An hour later their dad had left and Matt was upstairs cleaning up. Parker was sprawled on the couch reading his chapter on South American geography when the doorbell rang. He looked at the clock and got up, laying the book over the back of the couch. "I'll get it!" he yelled, moving to the door. He'd been waiting to chat up his brother's friend, to see if he was a fag. He pulled the door open and "Oh.---Hey Tyler," he said.
His friend stood in the doorway wearing a red tshirt and some blue running shorts. His bike was behind him. "Hey Parker," he said. "What up, dude?" "Nothing, man," Tyler said, shifting his backpack. "I was just riding through your neighborhood and thought I'd drop by, see what you were up to." "Nothing, man. Just reading geography." "Yeah," Tyler said, sloughing off his pack. "I was at the library, doing the same." "The library, man?" "Yeah," Tyler said. "Quieter than at home." "WHO'S THERE?" Matt yelled behind them from the upstairs landing. "IS THAT BART?" Parker half turned. "NO," he said, his voice carrying. "It's Tyler." Matt said "Oh," and walked back into his room. Parker turned back to the door. "You coming in or what?" "Sure," Tyler said. "Your dad home?" "Nope," Parker said, closing the door. "He went to a movie." "Fuckin eh, man," Tyler said. Then, lower, "Parker, man, I got some weed. You wanna?" The jock looked at his friend a second, then broke out into a smile. "I knew you were good for something, buddy." "Very funny, Park." Tyler walked over and threw his pack on the couch, sat down and pulled open one of the zippers. He fumbled inside and pulled out a cigarette case. "Whoa, man," Parker laughed. "Hold up on that, bro." "What," Tyler said. "Your brother?" "Yeah," Parker said. "But it's cool. He's got a friend coming over soon, probably gonna hang out and watch a movie in his room or something. Let's wait till they get settled, then we go outside and fire it up." "Fuck," Tyler said, "okay."
Parker laughed. "You jonesin', buddy? You been smoking too much lately, man. I been noticing. Hanging out too much with Alex Fulton, dude." Parker plopped down on the couch next to his buddy. "He's a loser, man." "Naw, Parker, he's okay," Tyler said, defensively. "Okay?" Parker reached out and grabbed Tyler's leg just above the knee. "He's a stoner, man. Not to mention the other shit he's into." Tyler looked at Parker's hand, his leg tensed up. "Yeah, man," he agreed, "but it's always good to have that connection, you know?" It was like Parker was plugged in, and his current went into Tyler through his leg. "Besides," he said, "that X I got us last month kicked ass, didn't it?" Parker grinned. "Well, yeah, I gotta admit that it did, bro. Those ho's was squealing, huh?" He laughed. "I mean," he said, releasing Tyler's leg and tapping his knee, "what I remember of it, haha...." "Yeah, bro," Tyler said, leaning back, "but your dad sure as fuck wasn't too happy about it when I finally got you home..." "Yeah, that's true," Parker admitted. "But fuck him, man. I'm outa here as soon as I graduate anyway. Out of THIS fucking shithole of a town, huh buddy?" "Fuck," Tyler said, "I hear that."
Parker reached back and grabbed his geography bood and snapped it shut. "Look, man, I was just finishing up and then I was gonna go clean up. You can hang out for ten minutes, huh?" "Sure," Tyler said. "You ARE, uh, pretty grungy right now, bro, you know that?" "Yeah," the jock answered, "I guess I am." Tyler reached out, punched on his buddy's chin. "Shit, dude," he grinned, "you need to shave, too." Parker felt his jaw and smiled. "Naw, bro, it's just right, man. See I might have to go out later and find me some mall pussy, you know? They like the stubble, man, you know? right where the leg and puss meet? Makes 'em wet." Tyler flushed and looked at his friend skeptically, but kind of respectful, too. "Yeah," he said. "Right." Parker slapped his and then stood up. "Come on, bro," he said, and the doorbell rang again.
Parker walked to the door and opened it; Bart Corvino stood scratching his elbow, hitching his backpack around. "Hey," he said, looking up and seeing Parker. "Is, uh, Matt here?" "Yep," the jock answered and stepped aside so Bart could enter. Bart hesitated just a second, intimidated by the fact of Parker's size. "Matt!" he yelled. "WHAT?" from upstairs. "Bart's here!"
The fourteen year old wore skaterz duds, too, like Matt did, but he was a little out of his element in front of the two older jocks, who were either cool, or jerks, depending, just by being older. He didn't know Tyler, and he'd only met Parker a few times before. He knew Parker was solid, though, and blond, and that he played football, and that Matt either loved him or hated him, depending on HIS mood. "This is my friend Tyler," Parker said, checking the boy out. "Tyler, this is Matt's friend Bartholomew." "Bart," the boy corrected. "Yo," Tyler said. "Bartholomew," Parker repeated. Matt came out to the railing again. "Damn, dude, where you been?" "Damn, dude! I had to wait for the bus, Matt." Bart was an Italian kid, curly black hair and deep brown eyes, and Parker saw that Matt was right: Bart DID look a little heavier than his brother. "Well, come on up, bro," Matt said, still from the railing. "I'm just finishing watching KING KONG." "Okay," Bart said, starting for the stairs. Then he stopped and turned back to the older two. "You play on the football team, too?" he asked Tyler. "Yup." "Cool," the boy nodded. "Matt and I are going to the game Friday. I hope you guys win." He talked to them both, but mostly looked at Parker. "Thanks, bro," Parker said. "Yeah, bro. Thanks," Tyler said. "So, uh, what's your jerseys?" "43," Parker said. "23," Tyler said. "Cool." God, Parker thought, what a fag.
"Come ON, bro," Matt insisted and Bart looked and shrugged. "Laterz." He went upstairs memorizing "Forty-three, forty-three" and he and Matt went into his room. Tyler looked at his blond jock friend. "Laterz?" Parker laughed and headed for the stairs himself. He paused berfore going up, looking back at Tyler who was still by the couch. "You coming?"
Parker's shit was already off by the time he hit his bedroom. Roaring ape sounds came from Matt's room, drowning out any other sounds or conversation. He threw the shirt on his bed, and rooted in the dresser for some clean running shorts. "You know where everything is," Parker said. "Gimme five, ten minutes to clean up and then we'll go out back and fire that baby UP." Parker kicked off his trainers, and though Tyler had told himself over and over at the library, pinprickly, restless, that there was nothing fucking wrong with just going over and hanging OUT, for Chrissakes, he couldn't help himself from looking at Parker's strong legs when he squatted to stuff his socks into his shoes. When he stood up Tyler watched the muscles roll on the back of his thighs, as he sat on his buddy's bed. It all of a sudden didn't matter, now, what his head was telling his head. The truth was lodged in his stomach, deep, and he had to hold himself real quiet and still, cause it was beginning to gnaw, and he couldn't let it know he was here. He sat there real quiet, and tried to think of his girl.
He heard Parker move down the hall and the sound of the shower starting. He heard a thud from Matt's room across the hall. He stood up and had to arrange his dick. He walked over to where Parker's sneakers lay on the floor, and got down in front of them, looking at the door. They were old and scuffed and he reached out and touched them, looked at them and just touched. He started remembering that porno flick he'd seen at Alex's a couple months ago, and his breathing went shallow. His stomach knew he was there, then, and started curling up inside, like it was making a fist. Across the hall he heard Matt whooping as King Kong finally fell. He picked up Parker's sneaker and held it by the heel. He got on his knees, holding his head down like Brad had done to that dude in the movie. He aimed, and closed his eyes, and slapped the shoe hard down against his dick, and he hit it full on, and it knocked his breath loose, and stung, and curled himself forward....
He was lying on Parker's bed reading a Sports Illustrated when his friend came back. "Hey Park," he said, rolling himself up and showing his bud the article he was reading about the Bears. "Check it out. Brian Urlacher's the shit, man." Parker was shirtless, toweling his hair off. "Brian Urlacher," he said, walking over to his dresser, "can suck my dick." He'd shaved. He grabbed a pair of socks and went over to sit at his desk. "Yeah, right," Tyler said. "Dude," he added, "he's fucking Paris Hilton." Parker had his foot up on the chair, pulling on one of his socks. He looked over at his bud. "Don't worry, bro. You know I got a big one. There'll be enough left over for ya"---he grinned---"I promise." "Fuck you," Tyler said, after a second. "Jeezus, Ty, chill out man, huh? I'm just fucking with ya, man. You know that, right?" Tyler looked over at his buddy, and part of him knew he wasn't just fucking with him at all. "We're still buds, right? Now that we got everything straightened out." He grinned or smirked at his friend: Tyler couldn't tell which. But his stomach knew, as it loosened and flushed: there WOULD be enough left over...
Parker picked up his trainer and looked inside it a second before slipping it on. Tyler was silent. Parker put on his other shoe and stood up. "You got a lighter, Ty? Let's go fire that baby up."
Out in the hallway they heard music from Matt's room. It was the Strokes and Parker said, "Hold up, bro." Matt's door was slightly ajar, but Parker knocked anyway. After a second Matt yelled, "Who is it?" Parker looked at Tyler and laughed. "Fuck, Matt, who the fuck d'ya think it is? Dick Tracey." Matt opened the door halfway, and Parker could see Bart sitting on the floor, messing with the PlayStation. The kid looked over at him and smiled, wide. Matt looked at his brother and at Tyler in the hall behind him and said, "What?" "Everything okay, bro?" Parker asked, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially, but Matt pretended not to notice. "Just fine, bro," he said, impatiently. "Well, uh, okay, then. Tyler and I are going outside. We'll be in the backyard." Tyler started off downstairs and Matt said, "Alright." Parker turned to go and Matt said, "So I can have some privacy now, DICK?" Parker turned back and looked at his brother. He raised his hands, like whatever. "All fuckin night, bro," he said. He followed Tyler down and Matthew watched him go. Not this time, bro, he thought. "Jesus," Tyler said, when they were in the kitchen, "what's eating HIM?" "Fuck if I know," Parker said. "He's had a bug up his ass all day." Tyler sniggered. "Not funny, bro. He's about to get that smart-ass waxed if he doesn't watch it." "Yeah," Tyler said, opening the refrigerator. "I'm glad I killed mine. You want something to drink?"
Five minutes later, though, the young jock was in an altogether better mood. It'd been a few weeks since he'd last been high, and the third hit off Alex's weed had sent him humming. The backyard was all blue and sunny, a perfect autumn afternoon. They talked about the team, about pussy, about bands they liked. They sat on the back steps, Tyler hunched over, Parker sprawled out next to him, his legs spread out over the grass. The sun hit them full on, making them squint, and from his vantage point Tyler could see the smooth gold of Parker's chest. His pit hair curled, just barely exposed, and Parker had to nudge him when he passed the joint back, and Tyler flushed, knowing he'd been caught out. Parker just looked at him, though. Then he leaned back and brought his left hand up to his nipple, squeezing it, tugging it lightly. "Jeezus, Parker, what the fuck, man." Parker looked over at his buddy and grinned. Hiking himself up he twisted toward his friend, putting his hand on Tyler's knee. "Dude," he said, "check this out."
He took the joint from his buddy, and ran his hand through his hair. "I was talking to this chick online the other day. BIG tits," he said, taking a hit. "Tight pussy, too." He looked at his buddy, exhaled and laughed. "At least that's what she SAID." Tyler took the joint. "Asked me if I had my nipple pierced." Tyler exhaled. "No shit?" "Yeah. She said she used to have this old boyfriend who had his nipple pierced, and she used to tug on it when she was giving him head, and it made him all hot and shit." "Damn, bro," Tyler said. "Yeah, man. Ain't that some shit?" Parker laughed, shaking his head. "Gimme a shotgun, huh?" Parker pushed Ty's legs aside and scooted closer on the step.
This close to his buddy again and Tyler was unnerved. He'd been banging that chick in the lockerroom, in the movie, when he got caught. He sucked in a deep breath and watched Parker exhale. Then putting the joint in his mouth he bent down, close to Parker's face, the tip of the joint at his lips. He flushed inside, going weak, knowing he shouldn't. He blew, watching Parker suck the thin jet of smoke into his lungs, eyes half closed, swaying a little.
Over Parker's shoulder Tyler saw some sunlight cutting through a patch of bright air, and shadows starting to slant against the back of the garage. The video, "Gang Bang Cheerleaders," had started innocently enough. It was all about horny cheerleaders and the football jocks they were fucking. Alex was so zoned out he had fallen asleep, and Tyler lay on the floor too wasted to even be horny, just watching the fucking. There was even a plot, too. Someone was feeding secret play information to outside teams, cutting into their leads, making them scramble, and the boys were pissed. It was Brad the quarterback who had finally figured things out, slipping away from the orgy in the lockerroom where the hot bitch cheerleaders were blowing and fucking the shit out of the team, and caught the Runt fucking the head cheerleader wild, who was the quarterback's girlfriend, but still a slut. Brad was really pissed, pulling the Runt off his girl and making him kneel on the floor while he shoved his big cock deep up in her wet snatch and made her moan and play with her own titties. Asking her how it felt, having a man's cock up her pussy, still in his jock and shoulderpads, and not some little runt dick. The kid kept trying to get away, but Brad kept holding him down, making him watch the nasty fuck till he pulled out and shot the money all over the muff.
Something he'd never have admitted he thought about surged through Tyler when Brad grabbed the Runt's head and told him it was "time to pay the piper, asshole," and forced the traitor's head down between his girl's legs and made him lick his juice off her still hungry pussy, and then shot another load on his face for good measure, leaving him slumped against the lockers, no longer a threat, while they went off to rejoin the team, and celebrate their victory and fuck. Tyler's mouth was dry, he was stoned and his crotch was damp. He'd looked down at his stomach, but it was like he was dizzy, even though he was lying on the floor. It was 1:15 AM. He'd been getting stoned and watching a porno, and now the alien baby was inside.
"So whaddya think, bro? Should I?" "Huh?" Tyler looked at his friend, stoned, distracted. "Get my nipple pierced." Parker was smiling. "Or you like 'em the way they are?" "Man!" he said, putting his palm flat against Parker's chest and pushing him away, "What kind of of fucking question is that?" Parker reached out and slapped Tyler's face a few times, buddy-like. "Chill out, bro. Damn, I'm just trying to figure out, what it is you faggots like." That did it. Tyler scrambled to his feet, red as hell, embarrassed. "I'm leaving, man. I don't need this shit. Not from you, not from anybody, man." Parker looked up carelessly. This was just like he'd acted the last time. "Well, okay then, bro. Thanks for getting me high." He flexed his wrists and his fingers. When Tyler just stood there he looked at him and said, "Come here, bro." He patted the step next to him. Tyler hated himself, but the baby moved and he took a step down, then sat down next to Parker again.
Parker threw an arm over his shoulder and took what was left of the joint from Tyler's hand. He held it to his mouth till the boy took a hit, then took another himself, flicking the roach into the grass when he was finished. Yeah, this was gonna be more fun than geography. "Good weed, bro," he said, his arm still draped over Tyler's shoulder. Tyler felt Parker's weight on him, s oclose now he could smell the jock's clean and golden skin. A last thin line of smoke rose up from the joint before the grass extinguished it, and afternoon shadows crept across the lawn. He stared, and Time detached from Seneca Falls. At football camp that summer the cheerleaders had voted Parker best legs and most aggressive, nudging each other, "on and off the field." Now he looked at those legs and his mind began to spin, looked at those legs he'd seen for years and years, beefy, now, the scuffed knee, the... Parker stood up. His crotch was inches from Tyler's face. "Come on, bro," he said, "Let's go inside." His face was only inches from Parker's crotch. He looked at it, looked all over it, then raised his eyes to those of his friend. It was like he was already bruised. "I said, let's go."
In Matt's room the two young wrestlers were lying on the floor, talking about their rotten families. Bart was ragging on his older brother, Matt was mostly bitching about his dad. "I mean, he's such a friggin' loser, Matt. French Club, Debate Club..." He rolled his eyes. Matt rolled his eyes, too. "Shit, bro, maybe he wants to go to Paris," he said, and giggled, and Bart looked over a second then giggled, too. He rolled over onto his stomach, propping his chin on his fists. "At least you got a COOL brother." Matt hesitated a second, then admitted, "Yeah, he's alright, usually." Bart looked over at his teammate. "Sorry your dad's an ass, though." "Yeah, well, it's not your fault, bro. But some day..." His voice trailed off, then he looked back and said, "I mean he's always riding me to pick up after myself and stuff, clean my room, take out the garbage... He never gets on Parker for that shit." Bart said, "Yeah, well, I thought you told me Parker was always real neat and stuff." Matt looked over at his friend, then said, "That too," flatly. "And you know what I think? I think it's because Parker's already fuckin' bigger than he is, you know? He'd be an ass, to piss him off." "Yeah, Matt," Bart said. "Your brother's like solid, man." Bart wasn't looking at him, but something in his voice pissed Matt off. He looked over at his teammate and said, "That's alright, bro. Someday I'm gonna be just as big as Parker is, man, and then they can both kiss my ass." Bart laughed and Matt looked at him, prickling. "What's so funny, huh?" Bart looked back. "Dude, dream on. You're never gonna be Parker's size. You take more after your mom." Matt bristled, and reached over and punched Bart in the shoulder. "Hey!" the boy said. "Ouch!" "Watch your mouth, man. My mom's got nothing to do with this." Bart rubbed his shoulder. "Damn, Matt, I was just saying..."
In Parker's room the two Vikings stood and looked at each other, till Parker walked up to his friend and said, "That was nice of you getting me high, man. Thanks." "Sure, man. You know we're bud---" He shut up when Parker slapped him, his hand jerking up to feel his cheek. "Guess you thought if you got me high I might let you have some, huh?" He slapped him again, and in both their bodies the urges started. "Look at me, Ty," Parker said. "Just out of the shower and sweating already." Tyler looked. He couldn't help himself. "Look at you, Ty," Parker said. "You're getting a boner, bro." Tyler didn't have to look. He stood there and took it and blushed. Parker pointed with his head. "My gymbag's in the closet, bro. Why don't you go get it for me, huh?" Tyler's stomach lurched, but still he hesitated. "It's been all zipped up since after practice yesterday." He watched Tyler's eyes move to his closet. "I bet it smells worse than my locker did." Tyler's mouth was dry, but it wasn't the weed anymore. Still, he... "Tyler." He looked at his friend. "What, Parker?" Parker smirked. "I won't tell ANYone, bro."
It was like a boom panned down from the ceiling, following his steps as he walked to the closet. The gymbag was on the floor, under the shirts and jackets, next to Parker's boots. Tyler's pulse was elevated, and part of him felt like throwing up, but even as he picked it up his nostrils flared involuntarily, giving him away. When he turned back Parker was sitting on his bed, what was left of his summer tan lit by the late sun pouring through the window. He spread his legs and patted the space between them. "Bring it here, man." Tyler walked slowly, but there wasn't anything fighting in his face anymore. It was, in fact, pretty blank. He handed Parker his bag and the jock wedged it snug between his legs. Tyler swallowed. Parker just looked at him and then at the floor. Tyler got on his knees...
Bart never got the chance to finish his sentence. Matt got up on his knees and half threw himself at his buddy and in a couple minutes they were tussling on the floor, goofing off, wrestling, legs and shoulders twisting. Like Matt said, Bart outweighed him, but Matt was strong for his age, and determined. His coach saw it clearer, maybe, but that was his job. Matt LOVED to wrestle, and if he kept his focus he was gonna be a terror. But talk is free. On the mat it's one on one, and now it was Bart who was dodging the younger Nicholls' moves. "Take it back, man," he said, grabbing Bart behind the knees and around his neck, pulling him into a crab and trying to flip him. Bart's lower back hit the rug and his arm shot out and wrapped up behind Matt's neck, and he kicked out with his other leg, pulling him over, panting, both of them rolling around. Bart pulled, and Matt's tshirt rode up over his face, cutting off his vision, hampering his arms a couple seconds, long enough for Bart to roll away, and get up, and wait. Matt pulled the fucking shirt OFF. "Nice, man," he said. "Fucking illegal, that was." "I'm trembling, bro," Bart panted. "I'm gonna piss myself I'm so scared." But he could see Matt's chest heaving and the hair that fell down on his forehead. "Yeah, bro," Matt said. "Fuckin right you're gonna."
He threw his shirt at Bart's face and by the time Bart dodged it Matt had lunged forward and caught his legs under the knees, pulling him forward and twisting up so Bart lost his balance over his back, and went tumbling onto the floor. His shoulder hit first, and he ooomphed, feeling it jar. Matt swivelled up and around, threw himself onto Bart's backside, moving forward, alert as hell, in tandem with Bart's twisting, till his forearms were up under Bart's pits, and he moved in for the clutch. Fuck, this was the part he loved: when his tool started to wake up and his opponent was grunting under him. He leaned back, and pulled up, bending his teammate's back up good, Bart's arms flailing out uselessly. "Yeow!..." he sputtered. "Fuck, Matt. That hurts, man! Knock it off." "Take it back, man." Bart tried to punch at his buddy, but only hit air. Matt scooted down, resting his butt in the small of the heavier boy's back, and pulled up some more. "Yeow!! Okay, Matt, I give, okay?" Matt lifted up, and bounced down on his buddy again. "You sure, Bart? You sure you give?" "Ummpff... Yeah, Matt. I fucking GIVE, man. Now fucking let me up, man. It HURTS." Matt let go of him and Bart slumped down on the floor, breathing hard. "Fucking right, Corvino. I AM gonna be as big as Parker, man. If I have to fucking take VITAMINS..."
Bart was still panting, but he wasn't pulling away anymore, either. He rested his face on his forearm, and his back went up and down as he breathed. The room got oddly quiet a second, like a door getting ready to open. Matt bounced again on his buddy's back. Bart grunted and Matt brought one of his feet around, watching it cover the ninth grader's face. Bart half opened his eyes and saw Matt looking at him, his face a blank. He blushed, and his butt lifted up, hesitantly. "This is for yesterday, asshole," Matt bounced. Beneath him Bart began to sniff.
Parker was on cloud nine. Little by little he was breaking Tyler down. He couldn't even blame him for not wanting to be a fag, not that he was talking much now, with Parker's rank sock stuffed in his mouth. He'd knelt before the tougher jock and watched him tug at the zipper. His mind kept flashing inside the bag, dark and damp like the baby inside. He'd felt himself sinking, watching Parker's hand stop, afraid he was just gonna tease him. He'd felt humiliated, but he knew the rule. Parker'd explained it. He had to ask. He felt like he was going to cry, but held it back. He'd looked at Parker's hand, the hand he used to make his fist. Was this what it was gonna be like the rest of the schoolyear, sitting in the library, not being able to think? His lower lip trembled. "Parker, please, man? Let me sniff your stuff?" Parker had tugged the zipper a hair, watching Tyler's eyes. "Fuck, bro. You sure?" He'd scratched his thigh. "I mean, dude, I know we're buzzed, but that sure sounds... faggy to me, man..." "No, Park," the boy had said, just like the last time. "I'm not---I don't know about fags, man." Parker pulled the zipper all the way open, looking at the trembling lip. "No, bro?" "No... Park," the boy had said, as the bag had eased toward him. Parker had put his hand around his old buddy's neck. "Well, shit, that's okay, Ty," he said, guiding the jock's head forward and down... "You can learn."
Matt was on cloud nine as well. He wanted to jump up and scream and hit something, but no fucking WAY was he getting up NOW. He was so fucking psyched... he had his first fag, he was just SURE of it. He'd rolled his friend over onto his back, and moved up, squatting on Bart's chest, his thighs on either side of the other boy's face. "Look at you, man. You are so fucking pinned..." "Fuck you," Bart panted. "You don't wrestle fair, Matt." Matt narrowed his eyes then leaned down and slapped him, but not, he thought, very hard. "Fair? Fuck, bro, I WON, man." He grabbed one of Bart's arms, pulled it over his head and leaned over him. "I been winning a lot lately, huh, Bart? Like, the last four times, right? I'd be thinking about my place on the squad, huh? if I was you?" Bart looked up into his buddy's face and saw the look he saw at meets, when you couldn't even talk to Matt, till he came back... What was worse, the way Matt was leaning over him, he could smell him, and up this close it was distracting. It was like the air was warmer, around them.
Matt didn't have much pit hair yet, but what he had was wet. Bart turned his head, away from it. Matt reached down and grabbed his chin, pulling him back. "Where you going, bro?" Bart looked up at him. "You pissed me off, bro. You made me get all hot and sweaty just after I took a shower and stuff." Matt bounced on his chest. "I think that means you owe me, man." "Fuck, man, I don't owe you, m---" Matt shook his chin, shutting him up. They heard a noise from Parker's room and Bart's eyes darted that way. "I bet if it was Parker sitting here on top of you like this you wouldn't be bitching about paying up." Matt felt his friend stiffen underneath him and kept a cold face like his brother had told him, but his head was dancing inside. Fuckin eh, fuckin eh, he had his first FAG!! "Yeah, Bart. Except he'd probably be pretty pissed right about now about you talking back and all." Matt paused. "Even if he does think you're cool." The word hung in the air like the smell of their bodies, and Matt waited... for his words to sink in. "He does not," Bart finally said. "Wrong, bro," Matt said. "He even likes your name, dude, which makes like two people, then, besides your mom, haha." "He's always making fun of me," Bart said, stubbornly. "Especially my name." "Dude," Matt said, "he's just joshing with ya. That's why he'd be pissed, man, cause a dude he liked wouldn't pay up." He bounced on his buddy's chest for emphasis.
"Jeezus, Matt, wouldja STOP that? You're fucking crushing me, man." He brought his free arm up to push Matt off him, but Matt grabbed it and secured it, too. "Shut up, Bart," he said, starting to lose his patience. "Just be glad it AIN'T Parker on top of you, man. He weighs a LOT more, than I do." And in spite of his awkward position, Bart began to gloat. "See, bro? See what I'm sayin'? Even you know, Parker's bigger, man. He's always gonna be b---" Matt's knee shot up, chinning him hard, and Bart's teeth clacked as his head snapped back. Stunned, the boy lay there a second, panting, trying to move his jaw and afraid to struggle. Matt leaned down and over him, his face just inches from his pal's. "Shut up, bitch," he said, proud that the word hadn't stuck in his throat. "I'm tired of arguing with ya. You got my armpits all sweaty, bro, and you're gonna clean em up."
The words hung in the air, and Bart's eyes widened. "I ain't doing that, man," he said. "That's fag stuff." "Dude," Matt said, leaning still closer to his buddy's face, "it's only fag stuff if you're a fag.----Parker HATES fags, man, and... I do too, bro. You just gotta pay off this little debt and then we'll be even, man, then I can let you up." Furtively, Bart looked up into the hollow of his friend's damp pit and Matt's heart started to race. And always keep your eyes on their eyes, bro, Park had said. Wherever they look, that's their weak spot. Bart was even smoother than Matt so far, and, except for his rich dark hair, didn't even have much of a bush, yet. Leaning over him Matt felt his tool start to pulse, and out of nowhere in a kind of secret conjunction, he knew exactly what to say. "Parker's a lot more smellier than me, bro, and you'd pay HIM back, wouldn't ya?"
Bart looked at his buddy. He remembered Parker working out that time, ignoring them while they assembled their kites. Bigger than he was, bigger than Matt... He was sweating, his hair wet on his forehead. They heard another noise across the hall. He stammered, "A-and then you'll let me up?" "Yeah, bro," Matt said. "Then we'll be even, man. I mean, Bart ol' buddy, I just showered like an hour ago, man. How bad can they be?" What confused his friend was that it wasn't, you know, THAY bad at all. He'd been smelling Matt since he'd been pinned, and he'd been fumbling a lot lately when they wrestled, and it was no worse than the lockerroom, even after practice, and he was used to THAT. And no worse than some of his opponents on the squad or at meets, who had really strong b.o. He swallowed. "Just this once, Matt..." Matt inched down on his elbow and his hollow dipped closer to his teammate's mouth. "Yeah, bro, then we'll be even, man..." Bart closed his eyes and let his tongue flutter up, and Matt felt a shudder go through his body like when a wrestler really gives, and his own dick started to bone. FUCK but he felt like slapping something all OVER again. He inched down further and Bart took a deep breath, and then he began to lick.
Tyler's eyes were puffy. Parker had held his head for a few seconds till he realized he didn't have to, then leaned back on his elbows and let his gymbag rub against his crotch while his ex-best friend rooted with his face around inside. When he was hard enough he reached down and pulled Tyler's head out by his hair. The boy's face was red, his eyes glassy and stoned. One of Parker's socks hung out of his mouth. "All of it, bro," he said, then watched as Tyler's eyes teared over and he started chewing the rest of the ripe cotton into his mouth. He sat up and his gymbag fell to the floor between Tyler and the bed. "I think there's something wrong with me, bro," he said. "I sweat too much, man. Especially my feet, bro." He looked down at Tyler. "Chew it.---'Course, I guess you know THAY, huh?" He laughed and Tyler blushed and hated himself and chewed until the sock was a wet mass in his mouth, and his cheeks puffed out. They heard a thump from Matt's room and both looked, then Parker smiled. He turned back to his friend. "Be glad that's not Matt's sock, man. Whew!! That kid's a REAL stinker." They heard another thump and then Parker said, "This way, Ty," and Tyler turned back to his belittler. "Eyes on the prize, bro," he said, standing up.
He took a step forward and Tyler pulled back. "Still woulda never pegged you for a fag, though, Ty." His friend blinked, and the way he looked doing that with his cheeks puffed out made Parker laugh. He took another step forward, and Tyler fell back on his hands and butt. "Lucky for you I gave my regular bitch the day off, huh?" He lifted his foot and stepped on Tyler's crotch, felt the wide receiver's hard lump underneath. He looked at his buddy. "You have a hardon, straight boy." Tyler's hand jerked forward and tried to pull his buddy's foot off him, and Parker bent down and slapped his face. Tyler's nostrils flared over his gag, but his hand stopped, though. "Look at me, bro," Parker said. Tyler was panting, his tshirt was soaked. "Spit it out, man," he said, then watched as Tyler started disgorging his sock, pushing the wet ball out of him with his tongue, till it plopped down on the floor between them. Parker squatted down on the floor astride him and made an obvious fist. "Now tell me again, bro. Whaddya say?" "I will," Tyler swallowed, moving his jaw, "....respect Parker's... personal property. "That's right, buddy," Parker said, matter-of-factly. "Now I wanna hear you say it again."
His fist slammed into Tyler's guy and the jock fell forward, clutching Parker's chest. He pushed his buddy off him and Tyler slumped down, over this thigh. Sweat dribbled from his nose. His breath came in gulps. "I will... respect... Parker's... personal property, he said, his head hanging near the floor. Parker pulled him up and saw the wet spot on the front of Tyler's blue shorts. "Yeah, straight boy," he said, slamming into him again, making his mouth drop open and his stomach heave. "And we're gonna keep practicing till you don't forget it."
He was glad his friend couldn't see him blushing, cause the worst part was, it wasn't so bad. Matt WAS clean, and except for the gross fact that he was actually licking it, didn't smell nearly as bad as Bart had... thought he might. Certainly not as bad as that Mulvaney clown last year who made sure to wipe his hairy ones all over his face even AFTER he'd pinned him. A quiver went through his stomach, at the thought. Matt was right. He was losing too much, he had to focus more. Then, above him, he heard Matt moan, and it made his tongue stop... freeze-framed... just for a second. He suddenly thought the sickest thing... that he was making his best friend moan. His mind made a slow and weird connection and he flushed underneath the tougher boy---he was taking Matt down with his TONGUE. He felt something stir down below, and it made him feel crazy and strong. Little Bart. His tongue jabbed up. Hey, young Barto. He nudged with his nose. Matt moaned again. He opened his mouth and pressed in and licked, not even as big as your name...
When Matt pulled off him, they both were dazed. "Fuck...bro..." he said, looking down at his... bitch. "That was fucking awesome." Bart was panting, wet on his lips, looking at the boner Matthew had sprung. Then catching himself and grabbing his head, Matt said, "Now the other one, bitch!"
A couple more punches and Tyler was finished. His head was spinning and he swallowed air. He slumped in front of his former pal, the one who looked like Brad. Parker squatted down and lifted his head up and brought it to his crotch. His eyes were red, looking up at the tough boy, and he smelled the odor of Parker's teen crotch. "Is that what you want, man?" he said, looking up. "You want me to have to blow you?" "Dude!" his friend said. "It ain't about me, man. You know I'm all about my bud." He brought his shorts to the tip of Tyler's nose and the boy started swallowing and shaking. "You love the smell of my fucking jock, man. Where do you think it comes from?" Ty blinked and a single tear leaked out. Parker nudged it with his dick through his shorts. "No," he swallowed, trying to talk. "I can't be a queer." He looked up. "Parker," he said. "I CAN'T." Parker looked down and spat in his face and grabbed Tyler by his hair. His other hand pulled his running shorts down, exposing the root of his cock. "Sure you can, buddy," he said, like a pal. "You can be whatever you like." His spit slid down the curve of Tyler's cheek. The baby burst out, ripping his guts up, and Tyler... opened his mouth.
Outside the day was turning milky as the sun dipped below the houses. Matt and young Barto lay on their backs. "So now we're even, right? You said." Outside the window birds chirped in a tree and Matt realized he'd been listening to them. He rolled over on his elbow and looked at his friend. "Yeah, dude," he said, flicking his chest. "Until the next time you lose or piss me off." "Shit, Matt," Bart said, pushing at Matt's chest and jumping up quickly, "you just got lucky, man." Matt scrambled up and faced him off. Bart looked at his firm tight chest. "Next time I want a rematch." Matt grinned slowly, and the boys high-fived. "You're gonna go down again, bro!" "You think so, bro? You ain't all THAT!" Armwrestling in the air, twisting and fooling around. "Fuck, Matt," Bart said, then, "I really need to go, man. My mom'll get pissed if it gets too dark, even if the bus is late." "Yeah," Matt said. "Okay. I hear you. Bring that CD to school tomorrow, man---" "Okay, I will, I promise, bro."--- "or I'll have to kick your ass." Downstairs Bart used the phone and told his dad he was on his way, then they went outside to the driveway. "Okay, bro, see you tomorrow then, Matt." "Yeah," Matt said. "So long... PITLICKER." "Fuck you, bro," Bart said, backing away a few steps down the drive, and giving his buddy the finger. "You just tell Parker, Matt. I'm a dude who pays up. See you tomorrow at school." He adjusted his pack and set off for the bus stop. Inside the garage Matt whooped and went "Yessss!!!" and punched the fucking dartboard.
to be continued...