This story is an entirely fictional work of adult erotic fantasy.
Copyright Boy Mercury X and Brooding Muscle 2017.
This story based on true fictitious events found in bopy's head.
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SILVERBACKS by Boy Mercury X & Brooding Muscle
End of summer senior year is everyone's last chance to settle scores, have that longed for hook up or swear your vows of eternal love. Or, for me, it was the countdown to getting out of this suburban Atlanta shithole and on to college.
My best friend Kelsey Hickson is throwing the last party of the summer, and her indulgent parents even agree to be off-site and to let her have a couple of kegs, reasoning that within a few days Kelsey will be away and unsupervised anyway.
"You'll keep an eye out and not let things get out of hand, right Zach?" Mrs. Hickson had asked me and I had agreed. She thinks of me as super responsible, but the reality is I just have no life.
It isn't easy to be the only out gay teen in my entire high school, or a literary fag in a school religiously devoted to football.
So while the girls gossip with each other on the patio and the jocks whoop it up by the BBQ, manned ably by Kelsey's younger brother Todd, I hang out at the keg station near the garden, ostensibly keeping an eye out for problems but really just not fitting into either group. College had better be better than this.
Now if I could just figure out how to use this keg pump and get myself beer to get through this night.
"This keg's getting low," I hear behind me, "Let me, I know a trick."
I turn to see Brian Hayes, football captain of the Silverbacks, ranking douchebag jock of our school.
"You know a trick, do you?" I crack, the innuendo probably lost on this straight boy.
"It's called gravity. Heard of it?" he winks. In a flash Brian hauls the keg up on his left shoulder and then turns around to face me, his peaked bicep stretching the sleeve of his shirt as he balances the weight. "Try me now."
"Gladly," my inner slut blurts, and I flush scarlet. "Uh, I mean, thanks." I fumble with two red solo cups and manage to fill them with the last of the keg's supply, handing Brian one. He takes it in his right hand, taps his cup to mine and says "Cheers, bro."
After swinging the empty keg smoothly to the ground with his left arm, he then just stands there and sips his beer, looking off in the distance. What am I supposed to say to Brian Hayes anyway?
I try not to look over too much, but he's magnetic. All broad shoulders and handsome jawline, buzzcut honey colored hair, full lips and green eyes with thick lashes. For a jock, he wasn't badly dressed, trading out the usual sweats for a short sleeved checked button-down (with a skinny tie, no less), tucked into the narrow waist of khaki chinos that cup his ass perfectly.
And on his right hand I spot the biggest, ugliest ring I have ever seen in my life. It's just massive with a cheesy red stone, and in block letters around the face it reads STATE CHAMPIONS 2016. On one side of the face it says SILVERBACKS and on the other is the team mascot, a burly silverback gorilla leaning forward resting on its knuckles.
"Nice ring," I say, "what's it weigh in at, twelve pounds?"
Brian shifts his position slightly closer to me and smirks.
"It's kind of dumb, huh?"
"No, you earned it, I suppose," I say, trying to use my sincere voice.
"Where you going to college?" he asks.
"Syracuse University. You're going to Tulane?
"Yeah, and Evan's going to West Point. How'd you know?"
"Everyone knows where everyone's going," I answer, "Or, I guess everyone knows where the popular kids are going."
"You gonna' stay sarcastic in college too?" he asks, looking off in the distance instead of at me.
"Oh y'know, why mess with something that works this well?"
He laughs out loud and licks his thick caramel lips, and asks, "Is this the most we've ever said to each other?"
"Most in a long time," I say, remembering that when we were just dumb kids before high school and we all played together in the neighborhood, me and Brian and his brother Evan and a lot of other kids, before puberty sorted us into our biological houses, giving him all the muscles and me all the sarcastic wit. "We don't exactly travel in the same circles."
In my mind's eye I could still see Brian and the roided football studs occupying all the space in every school hallway, acting like they owned the place, yelling their stupid gorilla call HOO HOO HOO.
"That's too bad," he said, again looking off in the distance, "I kind of have a thing for you."
I literally spit the beer out of my mouth.
"A thing for ME? What kind of thing?"
"Like an `I like you' thing."
"Brian Hayes likes me? Man, spare me the pranks. Let me get out of this burb with a little dignity intact."
"See bro," I hear behind us, "I told you he wouldn't go for you."
It was Evan Hayes, Brian's twin brother and football teammate. With Brian the quarterback and captain and Evan the star running back, the rumor has always been that their rivalry is fucking intense. Evan is balancing a full keg on his shoulder with seemingly not much more effort than Brian exerted with the nearly empty one.
"Take off Ev," says Brian, "this has nothing to do with you."
"Ha! We'll see," says Evan, and without warning he flips the keg at Brian who barely manages to catch it, backpedalling several steps in an unsuccessful attempt to maintain his beer-addled balance. He falls on his back with an "Oof!"
I instinctively move to help him but Evan blocks my way. Evan is shorter than Brian, but built like a tank. Not quite as handsome as his fraternal twin, but more rugged with a couple days worth of thick black stubble. Evan wears a skin tight t-shirt to great effect, his squarish torso piled with more muscle than I'd ever seen on a high school student. My eyes were drawn to the outline of his pierced nipples under the sheer rose cotton. Noticing my gaze, Evan makes his pecs bounce, and despite myself I giggle at the cheesy move.
"Don't let him sucker you Zach," says Evan, flashing me a stunning wide smile.
I didn't even know that Evan Hayes knew my name. Of course I know his, because everyone knows about the Hayes twins. Their mom is a movie star beautiful blonde who runs a non profit in the city, and their dad is a handsome black urologist, which results in a lot of jokes about Brian and Evan having surgically enhanced dicks.
Brian manages to get back on his feet and elbows his brother aside. I watch the keg, forgotten, roll on the lawn in the direction of the garden. I nod my head toward it. "So the two biggest jocks in school are more interested in talking to me than they are in beer? Yeah, right. Is a bucket of pig blood going to drop on me?"
This last comment earns puzzled looks from both brothers. "What, do you not know Carrie? The movie? Do you even watch any movies?'
"We work out mostly," says Evan, raising an arm with a swollen bicep as big as a toddler's head. He kisses it and flashes that fucking smile again, "You like?"
"Okay, enough of the `pick on the fag' game please," I say, about to make my exit.
"Wait, wait," says Brian.
"Chill bro," says Evan.
Brian blocks my way and with his left hand lifts my chin so I meet his gaze. I'm immobilized by those green eyes framed in thick lashes.
"I just like you, and thought: It's end of summer, maybe we could hook up,"
"But if he liked you that much," Evan drawls, "why'd he hook up with those other guys all summer?"
"Jesus FUCK Evan, shut UP!" yells Brian, and he snaps a back fist at his brother that Evan blocks cold with a club-like forearm.
Brian pushes angrily, but Evan's arm doesn't budge an inch, which leads the shorter brother to smirk cockily. Brian's yell catches the attention of the other party guests, but he doesn't seem to care and pulling his arm forward he turns back to me.
"Yeah, so I fooled around a lot this summer. School's out and I don't have to pretend anymore. But I always did like you, and I saw you at the keg, and well... you have a fucking hot ass."
I can't even say how hard my brain was working to process all of this, but by this point I was along for the ride. I still had a few hours to show up all these high school bitches, and prank or no this was my best avenue yet.
"What he's not telling you," said Evan, "is that we have been competing for conquests all summer before we go our separate ways for college. Going downtown to the neighborhood gay bars, seeing how much ass each of us can get. At this point, it's a tie, and Brian wants you to give him the win."
"Is that true? How do you even get into bars?" I ask, and Evan squints.
"You can't figure out how we get in the door at gay bars, dude?" he chortles, flexing both arms this time into massive globes of bicep meat.
Fair point, I think, my own most significant muscle stiffening. While Brian has him on height and good looks, Evan looks like he could uproot a fucking tree with those guns. I think of how he tossed that full beer keg and blocked Brian's arm with ease and realize Evan must have the edge in sheer strength.
"You said a tie, " I say, "What's the score?"
"Thirty-five," they say together.
"Thirty-five???" I practically yell. "Thirty-five? I've hooked up twice in my life and you guys did thirty-five this summer alone?"
"Thirty-five each," clarifies Brian. "But to be fair sometimes more than one in a night."
"Ha," gibes Evan, "Yeah I would have had him cold if he hadn't walked in on that gang-bang."
Brian looks at me guiltily, "I-it, wasn't as much fun as you might think."
"Uh-huh..." I mumble, all my witticisms forgotten as blood drains to my cock.
"So who wins the trophy for the summer?" asks Evan, "Me or douchebag here?"
"That's rich coming from you, asshole," Brian sneers, "you're not even gay, you fucked all those guys just `cause you hate it when I'm better than you at something."
"It's called bisexual, dumbass, and you're better than me at exactly nothing."
Shaking my head clear, I say "Who says either of you wins anything? Why are you just assuming I'll hook up with either of you?"
Both studs cast their eyes down to my swollen crotch. Evan guffaws: "Busted, dude."
"Besides, bro, look at us," Brian flexes his own biceps hard and I swear I hear a stitch pop in his shirt sleeves. Evan pulls up his t-shirt up to show a rolling grind, every muscle in his hips, waist and abs in play.
My jaw drops. Brian is hot, no doubt, but Evan's grind is the hottest move I have ever seen in my life. I think I even see Brian glancing at the show. That gives me an idea.
"Why pick one?" I try, "What if the three of us...."
"NO!" they say in unison, "No way. Not with HIM" They each glare at the other.
I look back and forth at the two brothers, and I think this has to be the hardest decision of my life. Brian is achingly handsome, like a golden sun god, but Evan is darker, a smoldering bad boy. Evan is built as rock solid as a bunker, but Brian has that amazing shoulder to waist ratio, and I don't know which of them -- if either -- is telling the truth about any of this.
The other kids start to pay attention sensing something is up. They probably want to know what the Hayes brothers are doing with the gay kid at the last party of the summer.
"Well I don't know," I say. "I could toss a coin..."
But the brothers look at each other and seem to transmit an agreement wordlessly. They both nod, and I say:
"What? What now?"
Brian yanks his tie through his shirt collar and says: "Now I kick Evan's ass."
"Pfft, hardly" replies Evan, "a skinny beanpole like you, bro?"
They start clearing a space between themselves, and I hear one of the other Silverbacks shout out "WE GOT A FIGHT! HOO HOO HOO!!"
Evan pulls his thin t-shirt off in the most jock way possible, grabbing it with both hands and plying it off his skin to reveal his thick solid pecs and a brick wall of abs. Brian sneers and rips apart his button down shirt, buttons flying.
I gasp.
Brian's more substantial shirt had hid his physique somewhat, but revealed it was majestic. Broad shoulders capped with cantaloupe sized delts, a thick strong neck and long powerful arms that look like they belong on the football team's namesake gorilla. While I had been thinking Evan has the edge here, now I'm not so sure.
Kelsey runs to my side to ask what is going on.
"They're going to fight," I explain giddily, "over me!"
She looks at me like I've lost my mind.
"What? WHY? Why are they fighting over you??"
"Kels, because I am the choicest gay booty at this lame ass party."
"You have to stop them! My mom will flip if there's a fight."
I could see Brian and Evan posturing to intimidate each other. Brian does that bodybuilder thing where you flare out your back muscles, and I swear I almost hit my nut right there as he grows half again as wide. Evan folds his arms behind his neck and crunches his abs down into a carved eight pack that look like my Mom's Thanksgiving dinner rolls, only even more mouthwatering.
"Kelsey," I say, "you are my best friend. But I have wasted my whole high school life hearing about straight girls' boyfriends and all your drama. This is the last night of our last summer, and if those two douchebag jocks want to fight over who gets to hook up with me you will stop them over my dead body."
Brian starts to wind his tie around his right fist, but stops to take off his garish state champion ring. He tosses it to me and it arcs like a comet. Despite my lifelong dread of catching anything in public I manage to snag it from the night air.
"Hold onto that for me," he says, his green penetrating stare dead serious. "This won't take long."
I feel my hardened art fag mask crack and let out a little sigh. Glancing over at Kels, I see she looks like she's about to barf.
"Oh relax," I say, "What's the worst that could happen?"
Brian and Evan circle each other, their gazes aflame with hostility. They roll their shoulders and crack their necks. As Evan circles around I gape at his monstrous ass and recall that time Kelsey had dragged me to a Silverbacks game. I'd protested that I knew nothing about the sport, so she had given me the basics on the positions in football. Running back Evan had been passed the ball by quarterback Brian and with all that muscle and his low center of gravity Evan had exploded through the defensive line of a horribly outclassed team. Three taller linebackers had bounced off him like bowling pins. The power he had in those thighs and glutes!
Evan brings me out of my reverie by making the first real contact, a glancing left jab off Brian's ear. Brian responds with a sudden feint forward that fools his shorter brother into backing off.
The crowd murmurs with low laughter.
Evan, pissed, swings a right hook that Brian sees coming and ducks easily. While crouched low Brian powers a blindingly fast flurry of rights and lefts into Evan's gut. The first few knock his bro back a couple of steps but then Evan plants his feet and crunches his abs into corrugated steel. I see Brian wince and back up, shaking out his left hand.
Evan bellows laughter at his bro and slams a fist into his own ironclad belly, the hit thumping louder than Brian's punches did.
"Too much for your delicate ladyhands, bro?" he taunted.
CRACK! Brian slams a lightning fast right cross to Evan's jaw and this time it's the crowd that's wincing as the blow drops Evan to one knee.
"You may have muscle, bro, but you're dumb as shit to fall for that misdirection," Brian sneers, his perfectly good left fist landing a powerful follow up hook that lays Evan out in a twisted heap. "That's why I'm the captain."
Brian flexes for the crowd, who roar their approval, but the grandstanding gives Evan time to roll away and regroup.
"Holy hell", shouts Kelsey's brother Todd, still clutching his BBQ tongs, his grill abandoned. "This is better than UF-fucking-C"
"Todd!" Kelsey pleads, "you have to stop them, Mom will freak!"
"Uh-uh, I like my bones intact, sis, I ain't jumping into the middle of that!"
Evan rises up from the ground into a tackle position and launches himself at Brian like a torpedo. His shoulder slams into Brian who collapses over his bro's densely muscled back as Evan plows forward. The momentum takes Brian right off his feet and Evan carries him 20 yards toward the garden before slamming him into the trunk of an apple tree.
Brian groans in pain and collapses while semi-ripe apples rain down on them, knocked loose by the collision. Evan catches one in his right hand and crushes the hard red-green fruit in his fist, pulp and juice exploding through his thick fingers while his forearm flexes into rippling steel bands.
With the same powerful hand, Evan reaches down and grips Brian by the throat from the front. Trying to rise, Brian gets some help from his bro who heaves him straight up, his feet leaving the ground.
"No fucking way," I gasp, my cock rock hard as I take in Evan manhandling his taller brother in a one-arm chokehold. Brian grips Evan's wrist with both hands to relieve the pressure his own weight is applying to his throat, but he's weakened from the tackle and is rapidly losing air.
Evan shouts to his dumbfounded teammates: "How do you like your captain now, bitches?" Cackling like some kind of comic book supervillain, he starts to shake his bro back and forth like a rag doll. Brian makes a strangled sound and his arms drop limply to his sides.
The fight looks to be over when Brian suddenly lifts up his long arms to grab a bough of the apple tree. With all his remaining strength he does a sharp pull-up and escapes the choke from Evan's juice slicked hand. In a flash he envelops Evan's head between his thighs and squeezes, locking his ankles. Evan hauls desperately on his brother's knees, trying to relieve the pressure, but Brian growls and squeezes harder, his quads flaring. With a loud rip a seam on his khaki chinos busts open.
Through gritted teeth Brian hisses: "Submit you fucker or we're gonna find out just how few brains you've got in that numbskull."
Evan releases his bro's knees and starts throwing punches into Brian's powerful thighs, but his angle is too off-kilter to get any leverage and Brian just laughs off the blows.
Brian looks over to me, winks and smiles, confident that this sudden reversal will bring him out on top. I weep a little pre-cum into my shorts as I imagine this handsome jock pounding my ass.
KEEEE-RACK!
Suddenly the bough of the poor apple tree decides it's had enough and both brothers tumble to the ground in a hail of splinters. Evan throws off Brian's scissors hold in the fall and breathes deeply, crouched down, his hands on his knees. Brian seems in no rush to re-engage just yet, panting hard from the exertion.
"Damn," I whisper, "these jocks go full out!"
"They're full out destroying Mom's garden, Zach! I'm going to spend the last week of my home life grounded," sobs Kelsey.
"But think Kels! Your party just went from lame to epic," I say, filled with an energy I've never known before. "No one's gonna forget this hot shit!"
Evan recovers first and closes on his brother fast, but Brian sees him coming and swings a right hook that catches the left side of his mouth. The blow knocks Evan off balance and he wobbles sideways. As he rights himself, he puts his hand to his lips to feel the wetness.
Brian shows the red smear on his fist to his twin and cracks a smile.
"First blood, bro, bad omen for you."
Evan spits scarlet and advances on his brother like the Terminator.
"I ain't superstitious."
Brian throws another couple of strikes that Evan blocks with those beefy forearms. Out of nowhere Evan crushes an uppercut into Brian's chin. Brian flails backward, his long arms windmilling. Evan keeps coming and before his brother can recover he piledrives a left cross into his face, breaking his nose with a loud SNAP!
Evan stands back and hoots with laughter.
"First BONE, bro, worse omen for you!"
Todd busts up laughing: "Sick burn, Ev!"
"Ugh!" huffs Brian, hunched over and clearly in pain.
Evan calls out to me as he walks over to Brian and cradles his bro's head in his huge hands: "It's over, Zach, pretty boy here ain't gonna risk more damage to his face, it's the only thing the fucking wimp has got going for him."
He pulls Brian's hands from his face and stares into his bro's concussed, blank eyes. "Oh, guess I should say former pretty boy. Damn I smashed you up good!" I think Evan is gonna express some regret, but then he pushes his thumb right onto the broken bridge of Evan's nose!
Brian screams but the pain wakes him out of his stunned state and with a roar, he clamps his arms around his shorter bro in a bear hug. I've seen this move on those dumb wrestling shows and it always looks super fake, but not here. Evan wheezes as Brian's gorilla arms crush his torso, his own arms trapped. Evan tries a head butt, but Brian lifts him higher, his feet leaving the ground, and forces his head back by grinding his own skull into Evan's throat.
Evan slams a knee into his bro's crotch, which breaks the hold, but Brian, furious, recovers faster and moves in for the kill. A swift left jab followed by a swinging right hook and Evan is laid out face-up in Mrs Hickson's flower bed.
Evan is still conscious but stunned and I wonder if this is it. But then Brian does something that will be burned into my masturbatory fantasies for years.
Brian pulls the full back-up keg out of the neighboring flower bed and hoists it over his head with an animalistic roar that causes the crowd to take a step back in shock. The effort of lifting the heavy steel barrel explodes Brian's torso into a kaleidoscope of muscle. His lats flare out like a cobra's hood, exposing deep armpits dripping sweat and testosterone. His expanding ribcage is crowned by broad flat pecs and supported by a riot of gnashing obliques, abs and serratus. To top it all off, in this stretched position his waist narrows, cause his chinos to slide down and reveal a honey colored treasure trail leading to a full sweaty bush.
I snap back from my lust filled zone-out when I realize that Brian is about to literally kill his twin brother.
I cry out, "BRIAN, NO!" but in his rage he can't hear me and he heaves the barrel down. I can't watch and hide my eyes, fearfully anticipating a crushing sound and the destruction of not one but two lives. Would it be hard to visit Brian in prison? Would he look hot in a prison jumpsuit? Yes, he would.
I'm about to chastise myself for that last inappropriate thought when I realize I've heard nothing. Nothing except the sound of heavy breathing.
I open my eyes and see Brian pressing the steel keg down, his brown delts flared into their three separate heads. But rather than being in two pieces separated by a keg-shaped smear, Evan is perfectly intact. He has raised his feet up and caught the lower side of the barrel as it fell, the momentum forcing his knees right up into his chest, his massive legs coiled up like a spring.
Brian is heaving deep breaths and looks confused. I'm guessing the confusion comes from relief that he didn't actually commit temporary-insanity fratricide, but bewilderment about how it was exactly avoided.
Evan lets out his trademark guffaw: "Nice try, Donkey Kong."
Everyone is startled when two loud ripping sounds are heard as the outside seams of Evan's designer jeans fail dramatically and dark quads the size of bridge cables erupt through the gap.
Evan smirks and looks up at his bro still peering over the top of the keg.
"Say, Bri. Whaddya think this thing weighs? A hundred pounds? Maybe one-twenty? Remember how much I can leg press?"
Brian blanches and pulls himself upright just as Evan launches the keg skyward like something shot out of a cannon.
The crowd gasps as the massive projectile is visible briefly but then gone, swallowed up by the night sky.
I turn to Kelsey, who at this point just looks resigned to disaster: "Jesus, Kels!"
Everyone is dumbfounded over what to do other than stare blankly up into the darkness.
Todd is the first to get it. Being a free-throw specialist on the basketball team he knows his parabolic arcs. "Ho---- leee---- shiiiiiit! RUN!"
The barrel drops like a bomb onto the grease-laden barbecue next to the Hicksons house, shattering the casing and projecting flaming burgers and sausage in all directions. I watch as the circular stainless steel grill rack flips up and spins away into the night like some otherworldly satellite.
It's when I hear propane gas hissing in the midst of the flaming remains that I figure maybe witnessing all this detail isn't in my best interest. I turn just as the explosion hits and I'm knocked to the ground.
Moments later, I have my bearings well enough to take stock. My ears are ringing, my nose is buried in something pungent and I do in fact appear to have all four of my limbs. And, oh yeah, my cock is rock hard.
Brian has turtled over me in a protective move that makes me wonder if this guy is boyfriend material after all. Of course then there is the insane violence directed at family members. But to be fair, every family has its quirks.
"You OK?" Brian's voice rumbles deeper than I remember and I realize it's the resonance of being chest to chest.
I pull my face out of his armpit, the direct application of his sex-musk no doubt the reason for my current priapic state.
"OK?" I stare into his worried face, dried blood evident on his nostrils and top lip, "I'm more alive than at anytime in the last four years! Finally shit is happening in this lame ass `burb."
Brian throws back his head in a deep throaty laugh and then caresses my face. "Goddamn you're beautiful."
I flush bright pink and embarrassed, push up at him. "Get off me, ya big lug."
He gives me a last, devastating sex-stare before standing up. Brian gallantly hauls me to my feet, which kind of annoys me, but my protest dies in my throat when I see the Hicksons' yard. The side of the house is a blackened mess, the aluminum siding blasted away in a star-like shape and the barbecue is basically shrapnel. A section of the wooden porch is licked with flames but someone is already on it with a fire extinguisher.
"Kelsey?" I say, my voice trembling.
"She's fine, everyone's uninjured," Brian answers, then sheepishly points to his broken, bloody nose, "Well, I guess not everyone."
I play-punch his massive delt.
"Serves you right, Rocky."
"Well this could have been avoided if you'd just made the obvious choice in the first place. Now you gotta settle for damaged goods", he smiles.
"Oh really?" I say, "The obvious choice, huh?" I look around for Evan. "Where's Rocket Man?"
"Ha!" Brian grins, "so, you know what my Dad looks like, right?"
I nod, not sure where this is going: "Damn right I do." Dr. Hayes is as tall and broad as Brian and as muscular as Evan. I'd find him the hottest DILF in the neighborhood if it weren't for his horrendous Dad jokes. I have no truck with puns.
"So, you can imagine how intimidating he looked to us as little kids, especially when he was mad. To this day, Evan splits in a flash if he thinks he's done something wrong."
I smile.
"Well then, I guess this is your lucky day, stud."
Brian leans in, licks my ear with the tip of his tongue, and whispers: "Let's get out of here."
We make our way to Brian's pick up truck parked out near the wooded area behind Kelsey's yard, but Brian asks if we could sit under a tree for a while. He sinks to the ground rather quickly, which makes me wonder if he is worse off than he let on.
"I'm no expert on fighting, but should we maybe get you to an emergency room? You look a little woozy."
"Nah, I'm good," Brian smiles dreamily, "Dad's got lots of bandages and shit at home and after 4 years of football I've got the concussion protocol down pat. And Evan and I..." he pauses, "...well, let's just say this isn't our first time."
I cock my head sarcastically: "You don't say. That was like Cain and Abel out there. I thought twins are supposed to have a great relationship."
"Identicals do, I mean they're basically clones of each other. We've met a lot of `em through twin studies Dad wanted us to take part in at Emory. But me and Evan, we're so different."
He looks wistfully off into the distance, his eyelids starting to droop.
"You parked far enough away," I say loudly. The only thing I know about the concussion protocol is what I learned on Grey's Anatomy. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to keep them awake. I can't remember if there's anything about no sex but perhaps I'm just conveniently forgetting.
"A little privacy," he chuckles. "In case I got lucky."
"So do you win the competition if you don't score one more?"
"We don't have to," he says, "if, y'know..." and he loosely gestures to his busted nose. "Too gross?"
"Nah," I say trying to wipe away the blood under his nose with his wadded up shirt, "you were too pretty before anyway." He winces at every dab. "Besides, that was the hottest fucking thing I've ever experienced in my whole life."
He finally reaches up with one hand and smears most of it off, then wipes his hand on the grass under us. He holds up two fingers and curls them in, urging me to get close. I lean in and with utmost care press my lips to his, blood and all, and our tongues meet. I try to hold his face, and freeze every time he moves or makes a sound, afraid I'm hurting him. We both laugh.
I reach down to feel the thick bulge in his pants and lean back so I can unzip him. I already know from the hottest part of the fight that he is going commando, and a dark caramel log of a cock rolls out followed by full low hanging balls. And, OM-fucking-G that full bush the color of sweet dark honey. I dive into it face first and the sweat and smell make me moan with lust.
I run my tongue up and down and feel his erection go from three quarters to full mast. It's hard and strong like the rest of him, the circumference at its widest bigger than my puny wrist. I suck him off and he groans. I reach into my underwear to feel my dick slick with precum.
I'm not the best cocksucker, not having had a lot of experience, but I put my all into it, and don't give a shit how much snot or spit or tears I work up trying to swallow him whole. I look up now and then to see Brian's head rolling back, his hips thrusting forward.
I work my way up his amazing body, latching onto one of his football stud tits, half expecting some liquid steroid to ooze out of his nipple and down my throat.
Arriving back at his bruised but still handsome face I whisper, "Want your prize?"
He nods Yes, and pulls a little travel packet of lube out of his pocket.
"Pretty sure of yourself," I say.
"I'm the quarterback."
I look down again at his cock, bigger by far than the only two I've had, and gulp.
"You have more than one of those packets?"
On my elbows and knees I spread my legs and ass for Brian.
"I would," he says, gesturing from his mouth to my ass, "but my face is kind of an open wound at the moment."
"Get in me," I say, impatient, but glad he is smearing my hole with lube, thinking he'll go in like a motherfucker. He is slower and easier on me than I expect, and whispers, "Relax -- it's okay to push back."
I'd had a couple of guys, but none like Brian Hayes with his football star body and porn star dick. All I could think was that if this guy got his nose busted and beat the shit out of his brother for this, I could sure as hell take it, and I drop to my shoulder so I can reach back to pull my hole open. He begins to slide into me. I can feel something, my sphincter I guess, stretch wider and then:
"Fuuuuckkkk," I groan as he is finally all up in me. Goddamn!
"Hold it," I whisper, hoping he'll hear me, "Just right there, just oh myyy fuckkkkk fuck me."
Brian moves right into a nice stroke, and then starts pumping harder. I am opening up to take him, and start pushing back. I know I am never going back now to whatever the fuck I had before this, Brian fucking Hayes is in me and -- is stopping?
"Everything okay?" I ask, "Am I doing something wrong?"
"No," answers Brian, "It's me -- I'm just -- Evan kind of took it out of me."
"Are you fucking kidding me? I've got the fucking football star in me and you're too tired?"
"Heh, sorry bro, I can..."
"What does the coach do to get you guys worked up? Psyched up? What do you call it?"
"Pumped up? I don't know, just talk us up and we do the gorilla call."
"Then get to work stud," I say as I slide my whole ass back on his meat, "Because I need a touchdown in my butt tonight and you're the fucking quarterback."
I don't know if those are even the right football words, but I'm desperate. I start grinding my ass against him, taking him all the way in and slowly pulling back. "You're so fucking good," I groan, "biggest cock I ever had."
That seems to get him going again and he thrusts into me.
"Show me that fucking tough guy who beat the shit out of Evan," I continue and his thrusts pick up.
"Fuck me -- get that big Silverback cock up in me."
"Yessir Coach," he says and slams into me so hard I am forced down on my belly. He drops down over me, his weight on his fists planted just in front my shoulders, his ass up in the air, and then he SLAMS hard again, taking my breath away. He lets his hips and ass take over, slamming me steady and hard, and I keep pushing back forcefully to meet him. Goddamn. If this was how Brian fucked with only half his vigor than I was going to have to find a way to make my ass his cock's permanent home.
I twist around slightly to encourage him. "You're almost there," I groan, "Let me hear it -- HOO --- HOO HOO HOO!"
Dropping back over me and slamming me flat, he joins me in that crazy gorilla mating call. HOO HOO HOO!! A moment later a low growl begins in his throat and then he seizes my chest in his gorilla arms, lifting my whole body upright. He rears back on his haunches, lifts me up slightly and then RAMS me back down on his pole. His nut floods my ass like a fire hydrant and he bucks even harder as my ass pulses around him.
"Jesus FUCK," I say, his cock popping out of my throbbing hole. He releases his hold on me and I flop on my back. Brian looms over me. I start pounding my cock with my fist, taking in the sight of his busted up but still handsome face, and all that fucking muscle. Even spent, his cock was big and oozing, his pecs rounded and full. I thrust my hips up to get my cock near that muscled chest and I squirt, once, then a huge streak, then a third and fourth as I have the best orgasm of my young life, in Kelsey's yard, under the captain of the football team.
Brian almost immediately falls asleep under the tree, but I am so wound up I can't. And -- to tell the truth -- my bowel is so wound up, I don't dare, for fear of what would come out of me. So after Brian is out, I wander over to find a shrub to crouch under to shit out his load. My insides gurgle and twitch, and all I can think is: It was so fucking worth it.
I stand up and think this must be the latest I've ever been outside, under the stars, alone. Or nearly alone, with Brian dozing about twelve feet away. All of a sudden a strong hand cups my mouth and pulls me back into a tight embrace against a rock hard body.
"Hey baby," says Evan, his massive bulge against my ass. Hell. The rumors about both Hayes boys are right. Cock-and-a-half each, I'd say.
He effortlessly carries me another ten feet away, where he slides one hand down my backside and traces one thick finger around my still wet and trembling hole. I go hard again immediately and whimper.
I can't resist his touch but manage to say: "What the hell Evan?"
One finger to his lip he says, "Shhh... sexy, don't wake Sleeping Beauty."
"He's sleeping because you gave him a concussion!"
"So you're saying I knocked him out? That means I win, right?"
I stand there dumbfounded. Is he right? Evan smiles that epic smile of his and suddenly it's hard work finding another reason to be mad at him.
"And you destroyed my friends house," I whisper harshly.
He thrusts his fingertip inside my hole and that's all it takes to make me forget about the Hickson house. Their insurance can cover it.
"And you let Golden Boy fuck you," Evan says, now tracing the inside of my hole with one hand, and cupping my erection and balls with the other. "But it doesn't seem like you got off."
"I did, Evan, I... unf," I groan as a second finger slides into me.
"If he really got you off you wouldn't be hard like this now." My hole is still wet and tender from Brian's pounding, and it's like I can feel every ridge in Evan's fingertips as they ply me open.
"I can take care of that," Evan says, his face so close to mine, our noses grazing each other and lips almost as close as my mouth opens wide, a heady wave of pleasure overtaking me.
Sensing me yielding, Evan envelops me in the velvety rock of his body. "I- I... Evan wait..." I protest, and push weakly on his granite biceps.
He silences me by locking his lips on mine. My head explodes as Evan's tongue dives so deep into me, aggressive, dominant, hungry, like he wants me so much he could devour me.
Before I can really process what's happening, we're separated roughly and suddenly Brian is between us, getting in Evan's face angrily.
"Get the fuck away from him, he's mine!" Brian fumes.
Something erupts in Evan's eyes, I think it's fury but it might be something I don't understand. He shoves Brian back and I see his fist coil.
"No Evan, his concussion!" I yell as I push in between them.
Pain detonates in my skull and I black out. The next thing I see is the night sky through a filmy lens, feeling the firm ground under my back. My face is wet and my pulse is hammering in my ears.
Both brothers stare down at me in shock. Evan reaches for me, his face contorting into a mask of agonized guilt. But Brian's focus is on Evan. He explodes, hammering his right fist into his brother's face with brutal force. Then again. And again. Evan doesn't make a move to defend himself, his sorrowful stare still locked on me. When the momentum of Brian's fourth punch twists him around, he looks back mournfully at me one more time before high-tailing it into the woods.
Brian drops to his knees frantically and bends over me: "Oh God, Zach, are you all right? You're bleeding!"
I reach up to my left temple to where Evan's knuckles broke the skin and feel the wetness. I've never been punched before in my life and it's a new and bewildering experience. "I... I think so?"
Brian turns my head to look more closely at the gash. "Damn that's gonna need stitches."
I don't say it, but I think: Good. I can already imagine my mother's hysteria when she sees that the most responsible boy in the world has scars from a fistfight. And I think of Mrs. Hickson who asked me to keep things under control, and chuckle to myself.
I feel Brian's hands beneath me and I rise up. He carries me in his arms to the truck and I feel like a damsel in a silent film melodrama from a hundred years ago. There's still a commotion at the Hickson's, but we manage to get away without getting stopped and arrive at the local hospital.
Several hours later, we leave the ER, with more or less clean bills of health. I will have a lot to explain to my mom about this.
"You look real Fight Club," Brian says, eyeballing the damage.
"I thought you don't watch movies," I remind him.
"Yeah, well Fight Club," he answers, grimacing and then he licks his luscious lips before adding "I'll drive you home. Still live at the same place, right?"
"Yeah," I say, touched and a little sad that he still remembers. "You don't have to drive me, I can walk."
"Nah," Brian says.
We get back in the truck and I watch him drive with trembling open palms pressed to the wheel, unable to close his swollen fingers to get a solid grip. He is focused on the road and driving, and has little to say.
Comparatively speaking, he looks like shit, and I know I do too. But when he concentrates on the road, the pink tip of his tongue sticks out from between his lips, like a little kid, and my heart melts.
"Thanks for the ride," I say, noticing he's been quiet a long time.
"S'okay," he nods, eyes on the road.
"Seem kind of quiet," I say. "A lot of pain?"
"Some. But. Zach. Just something I need to ask you. Last night, when you wanted to do the Silverbacks thing."
"Yeah?"
"That wasn't -- was that racist?"
"RACIST? ME? NO! Why are you even asking me that?"
"Because me and Evan, we're almost the only black guys on the team. And it's gorilla. A gorilla. Y'know?"
"Oh my god, Brian NO. I didn't even -- it was just the football thing. It's your team. I never, oh my god, I SWEAR."
"I just... `cause I didn't think you were like that."
"I swear Brian, I'm not."
I want to issue a thousands denials, but every one of them seems like it will implicate me more. I don't know how I fucked up so badly. I think of every possibility, in silence, and see no way around it.
"I'm sorry," I say, firmly, into the silence. "I'm really sorry."
He gives me a quick look, taking my measure with his green eyes.
Then he says: "S'okay," and turns his gaze back to the road.
We're silent for the rest of the drive, but my mind is racing. After last night, the life that I imagine for myself at college seems like only half a life. Why couldn't this have all happened earlier, I wonder, when we could have been so much more. I think about how Brian will be so far away from me at Tulane, while Evan will be just a few hours away at West Point, and I realize that even after this whole night, I don't know if I am good enough for Brian, or bad enough for Evan.
We pull up in front of my house, and I jump out self-consciously, trying to look more agile than I am. Digging my hands into my pockets for warmth, I feel a heavy nugget of metal.
"Oh wait," I say, fishing Brian's state champion ring out of my pocket. "I almost forgot this."
I toss it to Brian, who catches it, but immediately realizes he can't get it on his swollen finger. He groans and says, "Fuck!"
Then he tosses the ring back to me, winks and says "Hold onto it for me. Give it back at Thanksgiving break."
He drives away, leaving me in the chill morning air. With my left hand I feel the stitches on my temple, and I wonder how much the scar will show, and with my right I hold tight to the biggest dumbest ring I've ever seen.
Everything seems unbearably quiet.
END
"A scar nobly got... is a good livery of honour." -- William Shakespeare