This is the second part of the story of Dan Reed and Milo de Beer -- D'n'M. As before, it includes scenes of sex between teenage boys. However, sex is not the main driver of this story and often there is none at all. It will make more sense if you read Part 1 before starting on this second instalment.
All the characters and events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at pjalexander1753@gmail.com
D'n'M Part2
From Chapter 9:
Milo was determined to keep his promise to D's mother and check up on the supposed invalid through the day, hopefully getting the chance to clear up the messy bedroom before anyone else got sight of it. That being said, Milo wasn't naïve enough to believe that a tidy bedroom would bring an end to D's troubles. No, that was going to take a whole lot more thought, time and effort, and Milo had to admit to himself that he had no idea where to start.
Chapter 10:
If he were to eat on the move, literally, Milo reckoned he could get from school to D's house and back again before afternoon classes started. It would be a tight squeeze but he'd promised Mrs. R and, even more importantly, he needed to do it for D. Not to mention his own peace of mind.
He got to the Reed house and let himself in through the back door, as usual. Taking the stairs two at a time he arrived outside D's bedroom and listened. He could hear nothing. He quietly opened the door, put his head around it and looked in. D was lying on his bed, face down, unmoving. Milo tip-toed across to the bed (avoiding, as much as possible, the mess that was unchanged since his morning visit) where he found D fast asleep and breathing deeply. Good. Maybe a long, deep sleep would help him recover from whatever it was that had got him so upset. It certainly couldn't do any harm. If nothing else, he'd have some good news to report to Mrs. R.
Milo made it back to school with minutes to spare, just long enough to send off quick messages to Dan:
Good to see you asleep. Hope you're feeling better soon. See you later.
And to Mrs. R:
All well at lunchtime. D asleep. Back again later. Don't worry.
In the break between afternoon lessons Milo sought out Jamal, D's soccer team-mate, but he confirmed that he had no idea why D had skipped practice the day before or why he would avoid coming in to school today, other than the near-certainty of having to face the wrath of Mr. Roberts. Jamal assured Milo he'd ask around the other members of the team and report back anything useful he found out. For now, that seemed to Milo to be the best course of action, other than living up to his promise to keep looking in on D.
Feeling he'd done everything he possibly could for now, Milo endured the rest of afternoon school with his mind continuing to churn over and over the whole baffling situation. As the end-of-school bell rang he was one of the first students out of the door, determined to get back to D's house as quickly as possible.
As it turned out he needn't have rushed. He couldn't get in. Every door -- back, front and garage -- was locked. He tried each one several times but with the same frustrating result every time. Dan had clearly decided that he didn't want to see him and had made 100% sure of it. The text that Milo had sent to say he'd be back after school had obviously been a mistake. How could he have been so stupid, given the way D had reacted to him just that morning? He felt like banging his head against the wall. Instead he just leaned against it and cried - tears of frustration, tears of anger, tears of sadness. He had failed his friend and had no idea what to do next. He was completely out of his depth. He had no choice but to go home and hope that some sort of inspiration would come.
It didn't. At his house he found his mum sitting in the lounge with a large glass of wine, watching t.v. (Wine? At four o'clock in the afternoon?) and his sister was nowhere to be seen (Surprise! Surprise!) Up in his room he sent a carefully non-committal message to D's mum and lay down on his bed to think. Immediately the events of the last forty eight hours chased themselves round and round his brain, eventually wearing themselves out.
He was woken two hours later by his mum calling him down to dinner and a message from Helen Reed to say that she hoped to be home by seven and thanking M for his time and care. Hmm. Fat lot of good his care' had achieved. D had missed soccer practice, skipped school, locked himself inside his own house and totally trashed his bedroom. On top of all that he looked awful and was completely blanking his best friend who he had attacked both physically and verbally. So much for care'. So much for being a best friend.
Milo barely ate any of his dinner which resulted in the inevitable tirade from his mother about his ingratitude and selfishness. She, herself, ate nothing at all other than a few olives which she washed down with several more glasses of wine. If Milo hadn't been so preoccupied with his own troubles he would have wondered why his mother, usually so straight-laced and correct, was behaving in such an uncharacteristic way. As it was he barely noticed and let her criticism of him pass over his head as normal.
He spent another anguished evening alone in his room, hearing nothing from D or Helen Reed. Now he understood what was meant when people wrote in books that `the silence was deafening'. He couldn't even be bothered to jerk-off and he was in bed with the light out by 8 o'clock.
Another long and sleepless night was followed by another D-less day at school. At morning break he sought out Jamal once more but he had very little to add about Dan's mysterious behaviour, although he did report that one or two of his team-mates had seemed reluctant to say anything against Mr. Roberts. Jamal's explanation for this was that these were the players with less confidence in their ability to keep their place in the squad so it wasn't surprising that they didn't want to say anything that would reflect badly on the coach.
By Friday evening Milo was almost at breaking point. He only just managed to avoid a major fall out with his mum who chose just the wrong moment to have a go at him about the state of his bedroom.
"It's a disgrace. You should be ashamed of yourself. I've never seen anything like it."
"Ha! You should see the state of Dan's room," Milo replied under his breath, luckily too quietly for his mum to hear anything other than Dan's name.
"Dan. Dan. Dan. I'm sick of hearing that boy's name. You think more of him than you do of your own family. I wish we'd never met him and his oh-so-superior mother."
A very sharp and guaranteed-trouble-causing reply sprung to Milo's tongue but, just at the last and vital second, his mouth decided to stay resolutely shut and not let it out. Instead he muttered the universal, "Whatever," as he turned on his heel and left the room. All the way up the stairs he could hear his mother continuing to berate him for the amount of time he spent with D and his family. No sooner was he leaning on the inside of his closed bedroom door, breathing heavily and trying very hard to swallow down a boiling anger, than a message tinged onto his phone. He slid down onto the floor to read it. It was from D's mum:
D says he's off the soccer team and will never play again. That make any sense to you? We don't understand. Any ideas?
Well, the short answer to that question was `None!' Milo had no ideas. That is, until he started to look once again at the puzzle of D's totally uncharacteristic behaviour. The first piece of the puzzle was this newest one -- D being off the soccer team. No, it definitely didn't make any sense, because soccer -- watching it, playing it, talking about it - was one of the three major obsessions of Dan's life, along with Beth Harper and jerking-off. Second was the trashing of his bedroom, particularly the dumping of all the soccer trophies, photos and posters. Third was the fact that Jamal, D's team mate, friend and the person most likely to know of any significant problems connected with the team and D's place in it, was equally baffled by what had happened. And that led Milo's groping mind to the fourth piece of the puzzle, the fact that some members of the team were very reluctant to bad-mouth Mr. Roberts for fear of losing their place.
Gradually Milo saw the picture emerging, almost as if he'd got all of the puzzle's edge pieces in the right places along with large parts of the middle. And now he was looking at a very large piece - very possibly the largest so far -- the fact that everything had gone bad following D's meeting with Mr. Roberts after school on Tuesday. Surely this was significant.
With a sudden rush of energy and a growing sense of positivity Milo got to his feet and began pacing up and down. He felt sure he was almost there, almost at the point of being able to see the whole picture. But no matter how much pacing he did, no matter how many times he mentally rearranged the pieces of the puzzle, the picture remained frustratingly incomplete and it was obvious that there remained at least one important piece missing. If only he could work out what it was. Crap! It just wasn't possible and he could think of no way to identify the last, crucial piece, and without it there was no way of helping Dan through the crisis he was so obviously caught up in. Milo had no choice but to conclude that he was a useless best friend.
Just as he set about beating himself up, convincing himself that the final piece of the puzzle was going to stay hidden and that there was nothing more he could do to rescue D from the pit he had fallen into, he remembered his visit to the sports store a few months back and his meeting with Tye. At the thought of the hunky store assistant half of his mind, of course, chose this moment to recall the wonderful feelings of being jerked-off and instantly sent blood rushing to the underwear department. However, before Milo's dick was even partly inflated, the other half of his mind produced a vision of his last visit to D's bedroom which instantly banished all thoughts of this most memorable of sexual encounters.
What was it Tye had said? Something about needing to be wary of Mr. Roberts, and also of stories that he'd heard about the teacher. It was beginning to seem that every piece of the jig-saw had some connection with Mr. Roberts and the soccer team. Maybe that was it -- whatever `it' was. Milo knew that he had to work out the link between all the pieces of the puzzle and there was one person who might be able to help him do that.
I continue to be grateful to those readers who take the trouble to contact me about this story. As an author, it's REALLY encouraging to know that there are people out there who are taking the time to read what's been written, and then bothering to send a response. I welcome all comments and guarantee to write back.
To keep this amazing resource open and freely available to readers everywhere, please consider donating to:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html