Mike finished third in his semifinal heat, ending his day, about an hour later. Erick, however, moved easily into the finals of his division, with that heat set for around 6. The boys thus had a long time to relax, watching heat after heat. Eddie Boynton wiped out spectacularly in a short board semifinal, leaving him swearing on the beach with his broken board while the heat finished without him. He looked slightly glazed. Erick snorted, "He's so fuckin' wasted, look at him. No idea."
They sat together, relaxed, shoulder at times subtly touching. Mike and Jesse kept looking at each other, lapsing into long silences, and then giggling self-consciously when they realized how they must look. Most of the other kids, locals, seemed to ignore them, though Jesse noticed a few nasty glances at Erick when he beat several of them out for a spot in the finals - glances that, to be fair, were probably justified by Erick's triumphant demeanor and repeated shouts about how San Clemente ruled. Jesse and Mike tried to keep him calm, or at least civil, but Erick was in full throated jingoistic mode, and it took Mike's dad giving him a long lecture about the qualities of sportsmanship to quiet him down.
The afternoon turned cool as the sun westered. Mike dug a couple of old sweatshirts out of the camper shell for them to wear as they waited for Erick's final heat. The swell had died alarmingly. Erick started bitching about the conditions, nervousness now replacing his pervious excitement.
"Dude, you can't do shit with a longboard in that," he muttered to no one in particular as he paced behind where Jesse and Mike were seated. "It's like a freakin' bathtub out there." He stopped, put a hand to his brow for a minute, then exhaled in disgust. "It's gonna be like tryin' to steer an aircraft carrier if things don't pick up."
"Better on a longboard than a shortie," Mike said, trying to cheer him up.
"Ya, but there's no speed to the swell - when there is a swell," Erick moped. I might as well go out there and float, get a tan or somethin'."
Mike's dad was standing a little off to the right. "You used the 9' Stewart in the semi, right Erick?"
"Ya."
"OK, hang on." He wandered back to the camper, appearing a minute later with another board under his arm. Mike gaped. "Try this one out. Hap made this for me a long time ago, it's really light and maneuverable. I think it'll help."
Erick looked at the board reverently. It was fully eleven feet long, a monster, sky blue down the center, with three whisper thin stringers running its length, wide woodstained panels outside them, creamy subtle rails and a gentle taper to tri fins on its tail. The distinctive flattened diamond Jacobs logo gleamed in its center.
"Dad," Mike almost whispered, "you brought the Hap board??"
He shrugged. "This break can die like this, I thought it might come in handy. I'd have had you ride it, Mikey, but the swell was still pretty good during your heats." He looked at Erick. "This one is kind of special, Erick. Hap doesn't usually do tri fins."
Erick gulped. "I - I know, Mike's told me about it."
Mike's dad nodded. "Well, Hap's a good guy, he made this one for me when he was sponsoring me and I complained about how longboards didn't work in conditions like this. It moves real fast, and you can cut it on a dime with those fins, so even in this slop I think you'll have a good time with it. Just, uh, just bring it back in one piece, OK?"
Erick took it, lifted it carefully, testing its heft. "It's like air."
Mike's dad nodded, grinning now. "Yeah, Hap did a number on this one, I think. It's fun."
Erick glanced down at Mike, who grinned back, his arm thrown over Jesse's shoulder. "Go for it, dude."
And Erick did. He moved magnificently on the board, turning piddly swells into works of art, cutting back and up, down and across, strolling with arrogant ease to ride for long seconds on the nose. "Shredding" was too weak a term for his exhibition. He didn't bother with the wetsuit, and his tan body was lithe and glowing in the yellowing afternoon light. Mike and Jesse sat transfixed - he may have been the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen They weren't even conscious of their hands over each other's until a gentle nudge from Mike's dad's foot awoke them to their indiscretion. Mike looked up at his father nervously, only to be met by a shrug and a grin.
Erick was surprisingly subdued when he came back in at the end of the final heat. His chest was heaving, his legs were visibly shaky. He sat just above the surfline and dropped his head between his knees.
The boys scrambled down the bluff. "Dude, are you OK?" Mike called as they approached.
His eyes were teary. "I - I haven't, like, enjoyed anything, like that, in so long." He wiped his face. "I - after, y'know, last summer, I've been so faking it. Surfing too. Especially. I didn't even really want to do it, or - or maybe I didn't care anymore. But - but this was - this was just so rad, guys . . ." His head dropped back down, his shoulders started to shake a little.
Jesse put his right hand onto Erick's otter-smooth hair. "It's OK, dude. I know. We both do."
Another of the finalist kids, a local, walked by behind them, board tucked under one arm. He muttered something. Mike was on his feet in an instant. "What'd you say?" he demanded, challengingly.
The guy - about 5'8", thin but broad shouldered, with hair almost as dark as his full wetsuit, smirked. "I said, fuckin' San Clemente faggots about to cornhole each other." He opened he free arm wide. "Problem?"
Jesse managed to get Mike by the ankle as he lunged for the kid. Mike fell face first into the sand, struggling to regain his feet as Jesse held him down. "Dude, don't," he whispered. "He's just bein' a prick cuz Erick shredded his sorry ass out there."
Mike's eyes were blazing. "I wanna fuckin' kill 'im."
"I know. It's not worth it, OK?" Jesse saw four or five of the kid's buds moving toward them - reinforcements in case they were needed. "It's their beach, Mike, there's too many of them. They'd kick our asses before anybody could break it up."
A tall guy with an impossibly blonde poodle head led the group of locals. "Yo Cameron, the faggots giving you trouble?"
Cameron had already walked on. "Na," he said, loud enough for the boys to hear, "they're just cryin' cuz they can't surf worth shit. They need to enter the girls' division next time."
"Hey fuckface." Erick was standing behind where Mike and Jesse were sprawled on the sand, fists balled up. "I shredded your ass out there, so shut th' fuck up." He stepped toward Cameron, Jesse unable to stop him because he was still holding Mike down.
"Hi, boys, great heat, great job everybody. Erick, let's get the board back on the camper, OK? Mike, you want to help out?" Mike's father had an earsplitting grin across his face, but his eyes were narrow and very focused on the group of locals. "Any problem here, guys?"
Cameron opened his mouth, shut it, glanced at Poodle-Head (Jesse had already nicknamed him in his mind), and shrugged. "Na. Just talkin' 'bout the swell and stuff." He walked away with his friends; Jesse could see them stifling laughter.
Mike's dad kept his gaze on the retreating group. "Why don't you guys get back up to the camper. Now. OK?"
Mike shook sand off his T shirt as he stood. "Dad, I - "
"No need, Mikey, just go back to the camper, OK?"
Mike looked at his father for a long second before complying.
It was half an hour before the results were announced. The boys, with Mike's dad hovering close by, but unobtrusively, leaned against a large speaker as it blasted some anonymous death metal type crap music into the late afternoon breeze. Cameron, it turned out, took fourth, with another local kid, obviously a bud of his, getting third. Erick was second, a result that to Jesse so smacked of being hometowned that he was ready to hit something. Mike's dad's hand on his shoulder was the only thing that kept him from shouting. First was a very short guy from Imperial Beach who no one else seemed to know, who looked like he was about 12. He grinned toothily, exposing an alarming array of orthodonture, and posed with Erick and the third place kid. Erick was beaming as well; the local kid was sullen. When the picture session ended, Jesse noticed the local kid give Erick a subtle but very deliberate shoulder check. Mike saw it too, and was clearly spoiling for a fight. His father, however, stepped quickly in and shepherded the boys over to chat brainlessly with a few of the judges. It seems one had been a middle school classmate of Mike's dad, and amid long introductions and jokes about half-remembered eighth grade pranks the tension slowly ebbed. Erick kept his trophy clutched to his chest.
"Damn, that was somethin' I been waitin' to see for months!!" a gravelly voice rose abruptly over the hum of conversation. A barrel chested fortyish guy with close cropped blond hair, watery eyes, a slightly flabby midsection emerging from an open aloha shirt, and sturdy legs was moving toward them through the thinning crowd. He had his sunglasses perched atop his head, and he was squinting madly. Erick froze. "I been wonderin' where you been, Yarnall!! You were so damn good last year I thought for sure you'd be on varsity at SC this year. How you doin' kid?" He reached the group, smiling broadly, a meaty hand extended to Mike's father. "Taylor Castilla, Mr. Yarnall, glad to meet you."
Jesse and Mike glanced at Erick. His eyes alone betrayed his sense of panic. His face was set - stolid, and unnaturally pale.
Mike's dad smiled warmly and returned the handshake. "I can't claim to be Erick's dad, Mr. Castilla, just a family friend. Brought my son Mike - " he nodded to indicate his son "- and a friend down to try it out today, and Erick came along. My name's Don Roper. And this is Mike's friend Jesse."
Taylor squinted, thinking a moment, giving Mike and Jesse a casual once-over with his eyes that made both feel uncomfortable. "Roper? You were with Hap back around '88 or something, weren't you? Went to World Juniors in Queensland?"
"Half right. My brother and I were both with Hap. But Bill went to Juniors, not me."
Taylor nodded, smiling. "Got it, sorry. So, Erick, how's it hangin' my fine young stallion?"
Erick couldn't avert his eyes any more. "I, um, I - I'm OK."
Taylor's smile never flickered. He leaned in, like a trusted confidante. "You coulda won that final, you know. You got too in love with the board, all the tricks and sh - I mean stuff, it could do," with a slightly nervous glance at Mike's dad, who shrugged at the near obscenity. "You ride one aggressive wave at a time - "
"And the scores take care of themselves," Erick completed the sentence, tonelessly.
"Exactly!!" Taylor exclaimed, beaming as he fished a pack of Marlboros from his shirt pocket. Jesse yearned to hit him with something, anything; Mike was staring. They both moved instinctively closer to Erick. "Kid still remembers. Gotta love that."
"I remember a lot o' stuff, Taylor," Erick said evenly.
If Taylor was fazed, he didn't show it. "Good, you should - your folks paid me enough to teach you!!" He laughed, a dry crackling smoker's laugh that sounded anything but mirthful. "Son, you don't belong in these small time events - you're good enough to be doing the real money stops. Trestles, Huntington, Santa Cruz. I got four companies that'll sponsor you at the drop of a hat if I say so. Not just board shapers either - clothes, shoes, the whole thing. They're always looking for the next hot kid, and you just might be it." He was waving his cigarette at Erick now, an eager smile on his face. "You know it, I told you you were that good last year. And you showed it today. That was your first time on that board in the finals, wasn't it?"
Erick blinked. "I - how'd you - "
"The way you moved on it. You were getting to know it, having fun with it, not surfing to compete. Don't get me wrong, you were great, you shoulda won like I said. But you were surfing for fun, not competitively. Right?"
Erick glanced at Jesse before responding, as if apologizing. "Well, it was a pretty bitchin' board, Taylor - did, did you see how it cut, and held the curl when I went nose, and - " He was grinning slightly now in spite of himself.
"I saw all of it, Erick. It's a good board. I didn't know Hap was doing tri fins now."
"He made that one for me back in the day." Mike's dad couldn't conceal his pride. Mike looked at him with open contempt.
Taylor nodded, taking a long drag. "Hap's special, always has been. Damn giant. Anyway, Erick, here's the deal: I'd like to pitch you to some folks for a sponsorship, get you into the circuit, get you some duds and some new boards, maybe you make yourself some real money. Not everybody has the chops to do it, but you do. I think, anyway. I'm gonna call your folks, and let's talk sometime real soon, before school gets everything sideways. OK?"
Erick swallowed visibly. "OK, I guess."
Taylor grinned and tousled his hair. Erick shrank from the touch, just a little, and only for a moment. "Excellent! I got lots of tape of your rides, from today and last summer, to show the agents. I always keep my pictures, right?" Erick's cheeks reddened. "Gonna make you a star, buddy boy. And hey - go out for varsity this fall, all right - good way to get the competition thing going, and you'll make it no problem. I'll talk to your coach. Say hi to yer folks for me, OK? I'll call tonight!" And he was off, waddling slightly on sandals that were too worn along the outside to allow him to walk properly.
Mike's dad was thrilled for Erick, telling him what a great opportunity this was. He was almost as excited about the certificate Mike was given for his making semis in his first competition. "Jesse, you just need to be more confident out there, more aggressive on the waves. It's all a show - you have to be willing to put yourself on public display."
"Yeah," Jesse said quietly, keeping his eyes on Erick. "I guess I'm not one to do that sort of thing much."
"You're a natural, Jesse, just like Erick and Mike," Mike's father assured him. "You just need to be more confident. Erick, this is so great for you!! Having Taylor Castilla as your agent is a big deal, son, I hope you recognize that. The doors he can open - "
"M - my agent?" Erick spluttered, seeming to come out of his haze. "Taylor's gonna be - my agent?"
"Well, sure, if he gets you those contracts with the board and shoe guys and all that. He'd get a percentage of your gross and manage your business work - with your parents involved, of course." He frowned. "Didn't you understand that?"
"No - yeah, I just - I guess - it's just never been really real to me, y'know?" he was blinking, staring at his trophy, eyes downcast.
Mike's father clapped his shoulder. "It's a lot to soak up, I know. I remember when Hap sent me a letter asking if I wanted to be on his team - that's what they used to call it when you rode a guy's boards, you were on his team - and I was just speechless I was so excited. You wait, your mom and dad are going to be so thrilled for you."
Erick looked up at him, a thin smile on his face. "Ya, I guess."
They loaded the boards and other gear back into the camper in silence, Erick appearing very preoccupied the whole time. Jesse waited until they were securely inside, on the freeway again, before speaking up. "Dude, you don't want to so this, do you?"
Erick had been minutely examining his trophy. He shrugged.
Mike threw his arms up. "Fuck, Erick, this guy is still like exploiting you! He did it last year, now he's gonna do it again!"
"This is just business stuff," Erick said softly.
"You think it'll stay business? You think he won't start hitting on you again first chance he gets? There are other guys, Erick - other guys who can do this stuff for you." Mike was almost pleading with him.
"I - he's the only one interested, Mike. It ain't like guys are breaking the door down to sign me up."
"Have you been trying to get them to come after you?" Jesse asked. "You said you hadn't been pushing it cuz you were freaked and all. You ride like today in another coupla tournaments and they will be breaking doors down, dude - you were so good out there."
Erick sighed and laid his head back against the window on the side of the camper shell wall. "Maybe," he whispered. "Maybe not."
Mike leaned forward. "Dude, let me have my dad check out some other guys, OK? You just - let's say you just want, like, another bid, or something, and so you want to talk to another couple of agents. Then you can go with somebody else and it won't look like weird or anything."
Erick shook his head. "You know what he'll do? He'll sell the fuckin' pictures. He'll fuckin' ruin me if I go with another guy. Don't you see that? He's, like, he's got the hook in, OK? An' he knows I'm not gonna go through what it'd take to get it out." He rubbed his eyes for a moment. "That was why he took the pictures - well, one reason. Not just to shut me up. To keep me for himself, if it panned out. If I turned out to be good enough to get sponsored." He looked at the boys. "It is kinda cool, in its own sorta twisted way," he smiled crookedly at them. "I mean I'm gonna be sponsored and in the surf mags and like paid - maybe a bundle! - for, for surfing. For being the new grom on the block." He giggled slightly.
"And you'll let him fuck you for that? Rape you? That's what you called it, dude." Jesse was angry and scared at once.
There was a flashing light on their right. A Border Patrol car shot past them, careening over behind a rundown tiny camper shell that had stopped on the freeway shoulder. As they passed, with the Border Patrol screeching to a halt, every dilapidated door and window on the camper exploded with people, scrambling out and into the dry brush, sprinting for cover. Jesse saw dust from several SUVs approaching in the distance along the dirt roads paralleling the freeway. There had to be fifteen or more people fleeing, with one of the Border Patrol agents from the car pursuing them on foot.
Erick had stepped over to watch out the window with them; now he sat back down, again holding his trophy close to his chest. "Ya, well, anyway, that - that's like complicated, OK? I mean - I mean I didn't want it to happen when it did - the first time - but, well shit, I did like wind up enjoying it. Kind of." His hand fluttered in front of him for a moment. "I mean, I kept going back. I didn't have to. I - I coulda bailed." His eyebrows raised up. "Maybe he really does like me, y'know?"
Jesse looked over at Mike, who was equally horrified. "Dude," Mike said softly, imploringly, "he's fucking with your head. He fucked with your head last year and now he's going back in. Only this time it's not gonna be two weeks or whatever, it's gonna be like years you're gonna be stuck with him. And he's gonna exploit you. I - dude, he's fucking willing to get you drunk and rape you, you think he's not gonna steal from you too?"
Erick shrugged. "My dad does financial stuff, he can watch that part. He - he's good at that."
Jesse took him by the arm across the width of the camper. "Dude, please don't. There's other ways, OK?"
They passed the San Onofre checkpoint, which was abuzz with activity - Border Patrol SUVs and cars revving up and pulling out, emergency lights glittering.
Erick looked at him. "No, you see, this'll be easier, because I don't have to hide everything. I - I have you guys. I - we, we can talk, about like anything now. We all know all the nasty stuff about each other, so we can talk. So I won't be alone, and scared like I was. It's scary to be alone, like that."
Mike's shamed look at Jesse was unbearable. So, his eyes asked Jesse, do we fess up? How could they do that - to Erick, to anyone? How do you explain fifteen year old high school kids turning into Ron Gantry and Jamie Haller, Web porn sensations, with bank accounts flowing over with slimy money? Who were they to disapprove of Erick's agreement to be exploited?
Erick was right: the two of them weren't alone in what they were doing, and they had been remarkably un-scared. Maybe they should be.
Jesse broke eye contact with Mike and looked back at Erick. "Dude, I - we can't like make up your mind for you, or anything. It - it's really wrong, OK, as far as I'm concerned. It's just gonna fuck you up, an' I'm scared of that. Really. But - but you gotta decide that stuff yourself. I can't . . ." he waved his arms helplessly.
Mike's hand landed on his shoulder as he leaned forward as well. "Promise me you won't let him do stuff you don't want, OK? Not like sex stuff, not fucking with the money, nothing. And - and you're right. You can tell us - anything. We - we got nothing to, to hold you back, from talking to us. OK?"
Jesse was acutely aware of how carefully Mike had phrased that.
Erick looked at Mike a long moment. "I know. It - it really helps. You guys need to know that. That it helps, OK?" Suddenly he was across the camper, his arms about them both, kissing them wherever he could, his hands in their hair. "I can't do this if I hafta hide, Mike. Jes. I got to know you guys are, like, there. OK?"
Jesse pulled back, looked at Erick's damp blotchy face. His expression was a mix of fear and thrilled anticipation. "No problem, dude," Jesse said. The camper rocked as they curved off the freeway onto Cristianitos. They were almost home. Jesse took Erick's face in his hands and kissed him, his mouth opening gently. Erick's hands covered his as he returned the kiss, their tongues lapping against each other softly, for several seconds.
When they broke, Erick was visibly crying. He looked at Mike. "Sorry, dude. I mean you saw, I didn't start that."
Mike pulled him over. "Only thing to be sorry for is not giving me some o' that," he laughed softly, and kissed him as well. Jesse watched how Mike's cheeks flexed in and out as his tongue probed Erick's mouth, his cheekbones highlighted by the movement. Erick's face was turning scarlet. Jesse took in the line of Mike's jaw, the shadow under his chin, his throat, his long fingers entwined in Erick's hair. No wonder I love him, he thought, he's a fucking god.
Mike broke the kiss and pushed Erick back across to his seat. "OK, that's enough," he said with a smile. "My dad can handle one queer boyfriend, but not two." The three of them started laughing uncontrollably.
Erick called each of them several times that night. His parents were thrilled at Taylor's proposal, in fact they were all meeting him next morning after Erick and his parents got out of church. The Yarnalls attended a Pentecostal church called the Water of the Living Rock Fellowship, up in Mission Viejo, and his parents were quite devout. Jesse worried a little over how they might react to learning someday that their son's surfing agent was fucking his underaged brains out, but there was little to do about it in any event. Ben laughed sympathetically when Jesse described his own efforts in the contest. His mother cooed over the small certificate of participation he'd received. "We need to pay Don back for the entry fee," she fretted. "He should have said something."
"He was just being nice, Mom. I think it was worth it for him to get Mike to try it out."
She frowned slightly. "Well, if it's only $35 I can certainly take care of that much. I'm not in the poorhouse yet," she laughed, and both boys heard how forced the laughter was. Jesse reminded himself to send a mortgage check come Monday.
The next day Mike's parents were off to see some friends up in Hermosa, and Jesse and he had Mike's house to themselves. They spent a couple of hours in bed, joking nervously that they were "rehearsing" for the coming Wednesday. Whatever it was, they seemed to get everything right.
Jesse finally rolled from beneath Mike, reaching for a small towel on the bedside table to wipe his ass off, and sighed. "I got nothing left, Mike. You fucked everything out of me." He shifted his wiping to his penis. "And sucked it outta me, too. Damn."
Mike, face buried in his pillow, made a disapproving grunting noise and grabbed Jesse's arm, pulling him back down. He rolled his back against Jesse, lifting his leg. "One more, Jes. C'mon."
The feel of Mike's body, barely damp with sweat, aroused Jesse against all rational odds. He nuzzled his face into the back of Mike's neck, smelling the conditioner he'd used that morning and the faint muskiness of the boy himself. The taut skin tasted even better than it smelled. He felt Mike groan as he reached around and took hold of him, kneading and stroking him toward hardness. His own cock was responding, the arousal tingling through his whole body as Mike lifted his right knee upward to his chest. Jesse fumbled behind on the bedside table for the vial of KY, squirted a handful, and began massaging it into Mike. The reaction was immediate, if subtle, with Mike slowly undulating his ass to match the movements of Jesse's hand. Within another minute or so Jesse was inside him, moving pushing forward slowly since Mike, not as regularly the bottom, was still sensitive to the initial penetration.
"Don' hold back, Jes."
"I don't wanna hurt you or anything."
" 'S OK," Mike purred. "I want you to like own me, OK?"
"I don't already?"
Mike threw a playful punch back toward him, ineffectually. "Jerk. You know what I mean."
"Ya," Jesse breathed as he rose up a little and drove in as deeply as he could, "I know what you mean. Like this." Mike's groan, riding in pitch, was the only reply.
It took Jesse several long minutes of fucking, just enjoying having Mike beneath him, and his body clasping his erection, before the animal instincts began to rise. The pleasure he felt from being linked so urgently to Mike was enough, for a while - the movements of Mike's hips and back as they flexed and relaxed against each other, the small noises each made, their roving hands. When the heat started to overcome Jesse, it do so slowly, with great force. He started moving harder, faster, seeking deeper and deeper penetration, gradually rolling more atop Mike and hearing him groan and cry out into his pillow. They kissed at times, Mike's head turned at an awkward angle, with Jesse's lips eventually trailing off onto his neck and shoulder. Jesse's right hand started worrying Mike's nipples to the point of being painful, moving to the other only when Mike shakily grabbed his wrist and moved him. His left hand, half caught beneath Mike, held him fast by the shoulder. I own him, Jesse thought. He's mine, all of him. This ass, this nipple, this shoulder, his legs, the noises he makes, his skin and his hair and his muscle and his sweat and his spit and come. Mine, mine to own and possess and fuck and get fucked and touch and lick and kiss and love. He was repeating Mike's name with each thrust as he approached his climax, a hastening crescendo that grew louder and more insistent until he finally groaned, "Oh, God," and rammed forward, pumping himself into Mike with a long series of spasms. Mike's right hand held him at his hip, urging him onward, deeper, as he too lost it and shuddered slowly down into a panting stillness.
Jesse blinked his eyes back open, trying to focus. He was slumped over Mike's right side, facing his chest. Mike's nipples were very erect and reddened. He moved his lips to the right one, kissing it apologetically, softly. Mike groaned, his hand cupping the back of Jesse's head. "Oh, shit, Jes," Mike said softly, rolling full onto his stomach. Jesse fell off and curled himself against Mike's side, vaguely conscious of the cool trail of semen his cock left across Mike's hip as he moved.
Mike looked blearily at him. His fingers caressed Jesse's hair, just slightly. "Mmmmmm," Mike sighed. "I dunno what to say, dude."
Jesse nuzzled at Mike's side. "No need. No mushy shit, right?" The shoulder - his skin tasted so good. "Besides, it was my turn."
"What?"
"To make you mine. Remember?"
"Oh." Mike giggled. "Geez, was it that intense for you? Like when we were in the sand and all that night?"
"More."
Another giggle. "No way, dude, I am so out of it right now."
"Me too."
There was a soft throat clearing noise. The boys' heads shot upward, startled. Erick was leaning against the bedroom door frame with an earsplitting grin and visibly tented out boardshorts. "Hi-de-ho, dudes."
Jesse rolled onto his back and sat up on his elbows. "Don't you fuckin' knock or something?" Erick started laughing, and Jesse couldn't help joining in. "How long've you been there?"
Erick shrugged. "Not long. I mean you guys, um, you were like, um, fucking, when I got here, and I was stayin' back there - " he motioned toward the kitchen " - but you were like getting really loud, and, I, y'know, got curious." He grinned. "You guys OK? It, um, sounded like the world was ending there for a bit." His expression turned to one of concern. "Seriously, I - I didn't like watch you all the time - I saw, like, what you were doing, and I went back in the kitchen. And just, y'know, waited. Till it was over, and all."
"And listened real intently?" Mike was blushing, but smiling. Jesse wondered if the blush was from getting caught or from his arousal.
Erick giggled again. "Dude, it was hard not to hear -you guys got kinda rowdy. I mean for real, you gotta be careful - I think they knew three blocks away that you were fucking."
It was Jesse's turn to blush, as Mike looked at him devilishly. Jesse knew he tended to get a bit noisy at times. "Well, the window's closed, so it should be OK."
"I think the glass cracked, Jes," Mike teased him. "You showed up on the Richter scale when you came."
Jesse threw his arms over his head in mock exasperation and flopped back on the bed. "So a couple of nerdy guys at Caltech got their jollies. Big deal."
Erick laughed, his knees bending a little. His erection was still very prominent against his shorts. "So dude," Mike said, still in his taunting voice, "you gonna take care of that before it gets loose and like kills ten people?" He motioned to the nearest, empty, corner of the bed. "I think you need it."
Now the blush was Erick's. "Um, I, uh, I guess - well, sure, why not?" He pushed his shorts down, kicked them off, and sat on the bed, his erection waving about. "Um, d'you mind if I, like, look at you guys? Y'know, while I'm like stroking and all?"
Jesse shrugged. "Course not. It's kinda too late for us to be modest or anything, right?" Mike nodded his assent.
"Coolness. Thanks." Erick took his cock in his left hand, glancing over his shoulder at them, and started slowly moving his fist. He took a deep breath. "You guys looked really amazing when I did peek in. When I first got here," he said, his voice a bit tight. His head rolled back a bit as he started picking up speed.
Mike and Jesse glanced at each other for a second, then rolled down next to Erick. Mike's hand ran onto Erick's chest. "Did we look hot?" he breathed into Erick's right ear as he teased the lobe with his tongue.
Erick tensed a moment. "Dude, is this - "
"It's fine, Erick," said Jesse, as he leaned in from Erick's left side to take a nipple into his mouth. "Gonna see how loud we can get you to be."
"Oh, shit," Erick cried, quite loudly actually, as Jesse's teeth gently closed on Erick's left nipple.
Mike giggled. "Better close the kitchen windows too this time."
Erick tried to laugh but couldn't quite get the sound out properly. "Dude, that's - I never - "
"Didn't Taylor do this to you?" Jesse asked before dropping back down.
"Naw, just - oh God, Mike," as Mike's hand replaced Erick's own on Erick's cock. He started to fall backwards onto the bed, Mike and Jesse following him down, caressing and stroking him. Jesse rolled his ballsac in his free hand. Erick started arching upwards, groaning. "Oh Christ, dude, I'm - I'm - aaaawwwwww," and he came, firing all the way up onto his face at first, then onto the back of Jesse's head and onto his cheek, finally abating with a small pool in his pubic hair, his chest heaving.
Mike and Jesse looked at each other with a smile. "I don't think he came hard enough, Jes. He didn't make nearly enough noise, y'know?"
Erick was still having trouble laughing. "Just cuz you guys are fuckin' exhibitionists," he managed to croak out.
"And he can talk already," Jesse observed with a grin. "Had to be really little. We can make him really come now."
Erick pulled away from them, his eyes alarmed. "Shit, no, dudes, I - I'm like all tingly already! Don't - "
"Dude, relax," Mike said, a hand on Erick's shin. "We aren't gonna do anything." He sat up. "That was just foolin' round, Erick, we didn't mean anything bad - "
"No, it's OK," Erick sighed, wiping his face. "I just - God, that was intense. I mean, with Taylor - I like came and all, but it wasn't like I wanted to so bad - like I wanted to just now. Before, it just sorta happened."
"Pretty cool?" Mike asked. Erick nodded, laughing (this time more freely) and drooping back onto the bed.
They sat like that for another ten minutes or so, talking idly about idle subjects, occasionally reaching to wipe a bit of Erick's semen over his torso. Erick remained lying on the bed, a forearm behind his head. "So," he finally asked, the hesitancy in his voice belying his casual posture, "does this like mean we're gonna do more stuff now? Together and all?"
Mike shrugged. "Dunno. I mean, maybe. Sometime. But look, dude, this was just fuckin' around. This wasn't, like, emotional, or anything, right?"
"Erick nodded. "Ya, I know. I sorta had to get off there, didn't I?" He grinned lopsidedly.
"Nothing wrong with that," Jesse yawned, stretching. He reached down and pulled his shorts on. The others joined him.
"I was thinkin'," Erick said as he pulled on his T shirt, "I was like imagining us all being like buds and all before. Y'know, for sex and all. But I - I think I don't want that, really. Just buds, like always. Is that OK?"
Mike and Jesse smiled. "Of course," Mike said. "I hope you didn;t feel like we were tryin' to lure you in or something."
"Naw," Erick scoffed. "I just really needed to get off after - after I saw you guys. I mean fuck, lure me again, y'know?"
Jesse smiled as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying not to make it too obvious he was disentangling mats formed by Erick's dried semen. "You watched us more than you let on, didn't you?"
Erick, blushed, turned away slightly. "Well, for a minute or so. I mean, it was pretty hot." He looked back at Jesse. "Does that get you off - thinking people like watch you when you're doing it?"
Jesse glanced nervously over at Mike's computer. They had been checking out the latest marketing of Ron Gantry and Jamie Haller on the Voyeur sate before making love. Long as the screen saver is on we're safe, he thought. "Na, no big deal," he said, hoping it would sound relaxed.
Jesse's cell rang. It was Kate, who they hadn't heard from since she left Erick's house the previous Thursday. Damn, Jesse thought, not even quite three days. Too much happening, too quickly. "Hey lovah," she chirped happily, "how's the asshole?"
Jesse giggled a bit self consciously. "Are you referring to mine?" Erick was looking straight at him, a faint crusting of semen still on his cheek.
"You know who I mean. Did he get the message?"
"Um, yeah. Look, Kate, um - it's, like, a lot more, well, complicated, than we all thought, OK? And - and I think we're all cool with each other here now. On this end, y;know?"
"Kate's voice was shocked. "What the hell is goin' on?"
Jesse felt more embarrassed by the second. "Look, this, um, this isn't a good conversation to have now, OK? Like this. I just - "
Erick took the phone from him. "Hey Kate." Jesse couldn't hear if Kate answered. After a second or two, Erick continued. "Look, I - I'm really sorry. I been acting like a total prick with - with you, and with Jes and Mike. And - and I like owe you more than just an apology, OK? I owe you - an explanation. So I, um, I'd like to, like, sit down with you someplace and explain some stuff, OK? I mean, you can still think I'm a jerkoff after, and maybe you will, but - just gimme that chance, OK?" His eyes were squinted shut; Jesse could see a little moisture form at the inner edges. Erick listened for a moment and nodded. " 'K." He looked back at Jesse, holding out the phone wordlessly. As Jesse took it, he fell back onto the bed, hand over his eyes.
"Jes? What happened? What's going on?" Kate sounded alarmed. "Is - I never wanted - did things go wrong or anything?"
"It's OK, it really is. I think you should hear him out, OK? It - I think things are cool again, with all of us. Or can be, anyway." Erick was looking at him, pleadingly; Jesse understood the unspoken request. "Look, I'll come along if you want. Me and - " he glanced over, got an approving nod - "- me and Mike, if that'll make you feel more comfortable and all."
"Jes, is everything OK?"
"Ya, it is, really. It is now. Let's like meet at Mr. Pete's tomorrow for lunch, OK?" He looked over at the other two boys, who nodded.
He took a long look at Erick after he snapped the phone shut. "You really gonna tell her? Everything?"
Erick was staring at the palm over his eyes. "Might as well. I owe it to her, don't I?" He dropped his hand. "I mean, I was really being a fuckhead - with her, with you guys. I wasn't like that - y'know, before, and all."
"I'm more worried" Mike said quietly, "about what you'll be like in the future. If you go with this guy and the sponsorship."
"I know. I - like I said, I think it's different now. With me, and I think it will be with him, too. It's like I don't have to be scared. I say no to him now, and I got you guys to back me up."
Jesse wondered how they could back Erick up if he found himself shackled in the back of an RV in Baja again. How much help could they really be? But Erick's dad was part of the equation now, too - at least on the money side. That would help, Jesse knew. The rest - the rest he, and Mike, would just have to leave to Erick, and to whatever kind of fortitude he seemed to draw from the tow of them. The whole thing made him feel disturbingly responsible - on the hook for whatever might turn out.
Mike was watching Jesse intently. Their eyes locked for a moment. "You know best dude," Jesse finally said. "We got your back as much as we can, you know that. But there are limits, right? We can't be with you - "
"I don't need a dad, OK? I got one. I - I just need buds, Jes. Mike."
Mike sighed. "You got that, dude. You know that." He twisted up one corner of his mouth. "I gotta stay buds with anybody who's got a cock that big."
The comment broke the tension, and they all fell back in laughter. Mike's mother found them like that a minute later, still guffawing loudly. "Oh good, I'm glad to see you're here, Erick. Keep these two out of trouble." Her eyes flashed as she said it, looking at Jesse and Mike. Mike cringed.
The conversation with Kate went about as Jesse had expected. She shifted quickly from bemused contempt for Erick to horrified sympathy, to a furious (and loud) dissertation on exactly how she wanted to cut off Taylor Castilla's balls and feed them to him. The sponsorship idea in particular infuriated her; it too nearly a half an hour of begging from Erick to calm her down. They were fortunate that the dining area at Mr. Pete's was deserted (not unusual for a summer Monday before noon) and that the staff, back around the corner, was all Hispanic and probably couldn't have understood them too well in any event. They finally broke up as a lunch crowd started arriving, moving our onto the front patio for a short time before parting, with Kate giving Erick a crushing hug that brought him again to the brink of tears.
Jesse pedaled down to Pedro's and up the hill, grinding slowly in a low gear against the steep incline. No matter how good a shape he was in, getting home this way was hard. Next year I'll be able to drive, he thought. Only a little while till I can get my permit - that'll be so cool.
His mother's car was in the driveway, which was unusual. He panicked - had she discovered anything? He'd slipped a large check into the mail that morning to cover the mortgage shortfall, but she couldn't have known about that already . . . The roses were nodding under the weight of their own blossoms in the midday heat.
As he poked at the kickstand with his foot, panting a little, she appeared in the doorway. "Hi baby, great news!! Uncle Booth just deployed home - he'll be here for dinner!"