Here's the new chapter. The plot line is one that I got from an email message. Thanks, Randal. I think it's going to be fun to see how it plays out.
Rimshot@planetaccess.com
Dan
Tango and Taz 5: A little mystery, a little adventure
Brock Hendricks grimaced in pain but refused to cry out. His older brother, Dorn, held his arm up behind his back and leered. "You fuckin' spook. You're so fuckin' weak, it disgusts me." Dorn said, lifting a little higher on Brock's arm. "Fuckin' wanna be Goth, you make me sick."
"Then we have something in common." Brock hissed between his teeth, then crashed against the wall as Dorn threw him. His 145 pound frame did little damage to the doorframe where he hit, knocking his wind out. Dorn, a warehouseman, weighed in at 245 pounds, and had flicked Brock like a fly.
Since their dad, an overbearing abusive drunk, had disappeared two years ago with some waitress, Dorn had taken over the job as head drunk for the household. Their mother, a slight timid woman, would no sooner try to stop Dorn than jump over the moon. Dorn was balding just like his father, and had grown a fairly decent beer gut, just like his father. At only twenty-five, he looked years older, and was seldom seen without a beer can.
Brock pulled himself up slowly, feeling a fresh hot burning in his ribs. He went through the door into his room and closed the door. The room was painted black. Black walls, black trim, black doors, black window shades. Only the carpet had any color, and it was dark navy blue. Brock unbuttoned his black long sleeved silk shirt and exposed and angry red welt across his ribs that would soon be a bruise.
A fire burned in Brock's heart that was rapidly becoming hate. He blamed God for his parents, for his brother, for being dirt ass scraping pennies together poor, and for the all time whopper daddy of all injustices, for being gay.
He pulled off his black cargo pants and carefully laid them over a chair. They were the only nice clothes he owned, and didn't want them ruined. Outside, he heard Dorn's battered Ford start up and creek and moan as it backed out of what may have at one time been a well manicured front yard, now just a weed patch. He sighed, relaxing, now that Bigfoot had departed.
He turned on his computer, his alter ego, and brought up the net. His only release was the freedom and anonymity it offered, and he bathed himself in it every night. He searched for images of boys his age, images that could bring sweat release in fantasies. Brock was totally unaware of it, but he was not unattractive, although his feelings made him hideous.
Years of his father, then his brother telling him how ugly he was, and how stupid he was had done some major damage to Brock. Although it was a good cover, he wasn't a Goth, or any other group. He dressed in black to cover his own non-existent hideousness. He was convinced that he was the ugliest human alive, and that god made him worship other men to punish him for being so vile.
The screen warmed up, and he logged on to his favorite directory, finding exactly what he'd been waiting to see all day. There they were, waiting as he entered his AVS password. Tango and Taz, better known as G.R. and Tanner. He had gone to school with them since the sixth grade, never once betraying their feelings for each other, or showing a chink in their perfect armor.
Furious, Brock slammed his fist on the desk. How could they be members of the in crowd all this time, and not suffer for being fags? Where were the fucking rules? Who's fucking game was he playing? Why did only Brock suffer? He ran his eyes over their unevenly tanned but exquisite bodies, trying to imagine himself with one or the other of them, but unable shut the other out.
A long shuddering sigh came from his mouth as he flipped through the galleries. It wasn't fair, that's all there was to it. These two lived only a few minutes away from him, and yet he couldn't touch either one. A tear rolled down his face, ignored. There had to be some justice. There just had to be, even if he made it himself.
Brett decelerated his bullet bike and aimed for Tango's driveway, using each of the gears to slow him self down. It was almost dark when he pulled off the street and waved at the figure in the window. Dark clouds towards the west flashed and threatened a storm, so he parked his beloved bike under the carport and hung the helmet on its handlebars. There was a blue tarp under the seat in a small compartment, and he took it out and pulled it over the bike and fastened it down. As he stood up, he could've sworn he saw something move. Curious, he walked over to the bushes that separated Tango's from the next yard. A cat stood on the neighbor's porch, and Brett chuckled as he headed for the house.
"Aaaaaahh!" Brett ducked as he walked through the door and twisted to catch Taz in mid leap, carrying them both to the floor. Taz laughed manically and tickled Brett, who had guarded the secret that he was severely ticklish all of his life. He tried to push Taz away, but kept jerking his arms back, knowing he looked like and idiot laying there giggling.
"God damn, Taz, you even scared me." Tango walked out of the kitchen in time to see his newly acquired boyfriend thrown onto the couch. "I think he's a bit out of your league, killer."
Brett stood up and pounced on Taz, pinning him down and tickling back. "OH GOD! QUIT IT!" Taz shrieked, trying to hold his sides. Tango laughed at them and flopped into his easy chair. Finally, Taz yelped and rolled off the couch, breathing heavily. "I had you, man. I saw fear in your eyes."
Brett sat on the couch, winded, and shook his finger at Taz. "You crazy little fucker. Next time, your ass is mine." He reached in the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a video, tossing it to Tango. "Sleepy Hollow. It looked kinda cool."
"We just got back from eating with my mom, but if your hungry, there's all kinds of shit in the fridge." Tango got up and went to the VCR. "Bring some cokes back, will ya?"
Brett got up and went to raid the fridge while Taz make popcorn. They settled in, Brett stretched out on the couch, and Taz lying on the floor in front of Tango's chair with about six pillows. It was an okay show, but not real scary or funny. Tango set it to rewind and led the way out onto the patio to smoke.
"That was a cool ass sword." Taz took a smoke from Tango and lit it. "I like the way he swung it around, kinda like martial arts."
Brett shook his head. "That was campy. I kept expecting Jackie Chan to jump out of one of the houses and fight the horseman."
"I heard he passed on the deal." Tango smiled. "It was okay, though. What were you expecting?"
Lightening crackled near by, and the lights flickered. Taz, who hated lightening, looked up at Tango round-eyed. Tango stubbed out the cigarette. "Brett, it's gonna be a bitch of a ride home. Why don't you stay?"
"Yeah, man. You'll get soaked." Taz looked up at the dark sky and felt a drop hit his shin.
"Cool." Brett followed them in and closed the sliding door. They made their way up to Tango's room and turned on the computer. Brett sat down and checked the web site, and moved over to make some room so they could all read the emails. Some were pretty pornographic, and Taz laughed at them.
"Dude," Taz stood up and pulled the folded tripod out of the closet. "We ought to do your pictures tonight and post 'em. It'd be hot!"
Brett blushed. "Uh, I think I'd be to embarrassed."
"Fuck that! Me and Tango will be in 'em with you." Taz pulled the legs out and set up the camera. "Remember, you said when the rest of you was tan, you'd do it."
"I did, didn't I?" Brett felt like his face was on fire. "Look, guys. I don't know if I can do, well, uh, things like that in front of a camera."
Tango put his hand on Brett's shoulder. "Look, you don't have to do it. But if you want to, it's kind of a rush, and we'll do it with you. I understand if you don't."
Brett sighed deeply, and then looked at each of them. "Why not? It's all for money, right? Money is my god."
"Taz, let's set the camera up in the front room so we have more room to move around. That cable is thirty-five feet long. That's plenty." Tango plugged one end into the computer, set up the program to save the files to the hard drive, and then ushered everyone out.
"Dude, how 'bout Blink 182?" Taz held up a CD for approval and put it on to play. Tango set up the camera, tested it, and set it to begin recording. He felt a draft and went to close the sliding door in the kitchen. When he got back, Taz was already dancing with Brett, warming him up.
Brock sat behind the wheel of his 1978 Subaru wagon, completely unaware of the passage of the last two hours. He had watched someone pull in on a motorcycle and go in Tango's house. It had been nothing to find the address in one of his old student directories, and here he was, with no idea of how he'd gotten here.
Almost in a trance, he'd gotten out of the old Subaru and made his way in to the shadows in the bushes, trying to see who had just arrived. Brock slid under the pine tree next to Tango's driveway, almost being discovered by the guy on the bike. He bit his knuckle, pleading with the god he hated to not be caught right now, right here.
The guy turned and left with a chuckle. Brock peered out as he entered the house and observed part of what looked like a wrestling match. A few minutes after the door closed, his heart hammering in his chest, he moved towards the backyard, stopping for a second to touch the guy's motorcycle, caressing it. He shook his head slightly and turned towards the gate.
The kitchen light went out as he molded himself to the brick wall. He heard their voices, and his excitement became almost uncontainable. Slowly, almost painfully, he turned and lifted up to look through the window. Only one eye, then back down. After a second, when he realized no one was crashing out the back door to kill him, he looked again, more boldly this time.
Tango was in a chair with Taz lying at his feet. Brock felt a tug at his heart as his eyes ran over them. Then he saw the guy with the bike on the couch. The world seemed to slow down and almost stop. Brock's jaw dropped as he took in the absolute beauty of the god that reclined on the couch, wearing only a pair of cargo shorts. His mind slipped into a fantasy, where the platinum haired god was naked on a towel on a beach. In the fantasy, Brock walked up, and the blond god began to undress him, running his massive powerful hands all over Brock's chest and abs.
There was no sense of time passing as Brock watched the guy on the couch and let the fantasy rule his mind. With a gasp, he opened his eyes and realized someone had turned on spotlights on the deck. He dropped to the ground painfully jamming his extremely hard penis into his leg. He bit his lip hard to keep from groaning.
Oh shit! They were all coming out on the patio! Brock glanced at the gate and realized he had no chance of escaping. He huddled behind a lilac tree and listened as they talked about the movie they'd just watched. Brock actually liked Sleepy Hollow, and any other Tim Burton movie, and found him self wishing he could join the conversation.
They finally went back in, and he settled onto the concrete, allowing his recently jammed dick to move back into a comfortable position. After a few minutes he stood up and peered into sliding door. They weren't where he could see them, and he leaned against the door. It slid a little, and he quickly glanced to each side. His palms were clammy as he took hold of the handle and slid it open, then slipped inside.
Taz bounded down the stairs, and Brock's eyes flew open. He dived head long into the first room he could find and landed in a pile of laundry. He clamped a hand over his mouth, barely stifling a scream, and fought to control his labored breathing. Finally he calmed down, and realized wear he was. He lifted his hand and came up with a pair of men's low-rise briefs. He held them to his face and inhaled, finding nirvana. He would've been happy to just sit there, surrounded by their clothes, but reluctantly, he stuck the briefs in his pants pocket.
Music had started playing, and Brock carefully pulled the door open and slipped into the kitchen. It was hard to find a place that he could see them from until he noticed a mirror by the front door. He almost staggered when he saw what was happening. He could see the camera set up, and they danced to the music, taking each other's clothes off and kissing and touching each other. All three of them.
Taz ran his hands up Tango's chest and leaned in to kiss him, keeping his legs and feet moving to the music. He could feel Brett's hands on his abs, and he closed his eyes. Tango kissed his neck, his collarbone, and his shoulder. He felt Brett's massive hands pull off his shorts and he moaned.
Brock watched wide-eyed as Tango lowered himself to Taz's hardening cock and licked it. He whimpered, jamming his knuckle into his mouth. It was way too much to take, and he put his hand over his crotch and began to rub. Brett took off Tango's shorts and began to lick his ass, then after a minute rubbed something onto Taz's cock and guided him towards Tango.
Taz felt Tango tense up as Brett moved him into position, and he wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his chest slowly, helping Tango relax. Tango took a deep breath and leaned his hands against Brett's shoulders. Brett's fingers had been up his ass, and it had felt so good. Now, his nerve was going fast, and he leaned forward so that Taz could reach. Taz moved in, and Tango felt the tip touch his sphincter. He tried to relax, but couldn't.
Taz entered him, and he bit on his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. It hurt like hell, but he wasn't about to disappoint Taz. Taz moved in some more, and hit a threshold of some sort, then slid in easily. Tango released his breath and felt Brett hold him up on his feet. It felt strange, not at all what he expected.
Taz started a slow rhythm, moving very carefully in and out. Tango felt it every time Taz's tip touched some kind of nerve, and he began to groan every time it hit. "Holy shit." He mumbled, and then shivered as Brett's mouth closed over his cock. "Oh, God. I can't believe this."
Taz tweaked Tango's nipples and ran his hands over his chest and stomach. Tango began to push back at opposite intervals, and Taz began to feel the tingle build in his stomach. He tried to control his speed, but Tango wanted more, faster, and Taz had to keep up.
Brock watched with his hand in his pants, slick with fluids. He wanted to run out and wrap his mouth around the tall blond guy, the one who had no one on him. He gasped as Tango arched up and grunted loudly, emptying himself into the tall guy's mouth. Taz grimaced and wrapped his arms tightly around Tango's waste and shouted, emptying himself into Tango. Brock squeaked and closed his eyes, feeling himself go over the top, shooting into his black satin boxers. He braced himself against the wall, over come by wave after wave.
Tango and Taz pulled apart and kissed tenderly. Tango got a wicked smile on his face and Taz nodded, and they turned and pounced on Brett. Tango sealed his mouth over Brett's and stuck his tongue deep into the cavity. Taz rubbed a huge glob of lube on to Brett's cock and lowered himself over it, grunting as it passed inside.
Brett was pinned on his back, with Tango holding him down. Taz started a fast paced up and down on him, and in very little time he could feel his stomach knot up. He arched his back, blowing a huge load into Taz. Taz kept up the motions until Brett sagged on the floor, exhausted. They sprawled in a heap, panting and sweaty.
"Dude, we need a towel." Brock heard Tango mumble, and he panicked, realizing where he was and what was happening. He dashed into the laundry room, and immediately knew the mistake he'd made. He turned to go back out and heard footsteps heading across the floor towards him. He searched for a window but there wasn't one. The light came on, and he whirled to come face to face with Tango.
"What the fuck?" Tango looked into the stranger's eyes and froze. He was young, dressed in black, and had a wet stain on his crotch. His eyes where wild, and he lowered his shoulder and went past Tango, knocking him back through the door. Taz came around the corner, concerned about Tango's shout, and collided head on with the stranger. He landed with a thud, but was right back on his feet to give chase.
The stranger angled past Brett, who held his arms wide, and ran for the glass door. It took about .03 seconds to realize that the door was closed. It took about .5 seconds to pass through it anyway, shattering the glass. Brock lifted his arms to cover his eyes as he hit, hearing it crack and shatter in slow motion.
"Jesus Christ!" Brett bellowed, watching the glass fall. He didn't even stop to think as he dived through the new opening and landed clear of the glass, in hot pursuit. The stranger looked over his shoulders and his eyes widened as he saw Brett run out of the house. He dodged left, back towards the gate.
Brock felt Brett's arms around him, and the momentum carried them to the ground. A loud 'oof' exploded from his chest and battered ribs as they slid across the rain soaked grass. "Let me go!" Brock screamed and pounded on Brett's arms. "Get off me goddammit!"
"Who the fuck are you?" Brett snarled into the kid's ear, yanking back on his hair. "What were you doing in that house? Answer me, or I'll tear you in half!"
"Do it." Brock squirmed, and then saw his opening. He bent down and latched his teeth into Brett's arm and bit down hard. Brett screamed and let go, and Brock almost made it to his feet when Taz hit him from the side, sending them sprawling.
"Pick on somebody your own size." Taz sneered and threw a vicious kick to Brock's head, sending him flying to land flat on his back. "Stand up, asshole. I'm not done yet." Taz stepped over and pushed the kid's head with his toe, then noticed that his eyes had rolled up into his head.
"Um, boys?" Tango walked up and handed them each a pair of shorts. "I don't know for sure, but I think the neighbor's will frown on naked combat lessons in the backyard, don't you think?" He knelt next to the stranger, lifting his face into the light. "Tanner, isn't this that kid that was in our Earth Sciences class last year?"
"Yeah. Brent or Brian or something." Taz pulled on his shorts and squatted next to Tango. "Ben? I don't fucking remember, Tango. I hated school."
Brett zipped his zipper up. His chest still heaved for breath, but he was calming down. There was a welt on his arm from the bite, but no blood. "What the hell was he doing watching us? Was he gonna rob you, or just kill us, or what?"
"I don't see any gun or anything." Tango patted the boy's pockets and legs. "Whatever he was doing here, he was getting off on us. He stinks."
"Tie the fucker up. We'll use a lighter to find out." Taz said forcefully, standing on the grass, hands on his hips. Brett laughed and pulled the short little runt over and hugged him.
"Maybe we should call the cops." Tango looked back at the door and felt his stomach knot up. How the hell would he explain this to his mom?
"And tell 'em what, Tang? That a pervert broke into your house to watch you fuck two other guys? That ought to be rich" Brett reached down and scooped the kid up. "Let's ask him when he wakes up. I'll bet I can make him real cooperative."
"So can I." Taz followed the tall blond back towards the house. "Dude, I'll help clean this up. Where's the brooms and shit?" Tango and Taz cleaned up the glass and put a piece of plywood over the door until tomorrow. They decided they'd tell Tango's mom that the wind took it out, scaring the shit out of them. It was blowing hard now, and had started raining.
They grabbed cokes and went up to Tango's room to see what Brett was doing. Tango stopped in the doorway, shocked. The kid was tied to the bed hand and foot, and undressed to his black silk boxers. His mouth was gagged, and his eyes were wide. It was pretty easy to tell he was terrified. Brett stood at the end of the bed with a knife, borrowed from the kitchen.
"Whoa, dude." Taz said, moving into the room. "This is a little freaky, man."
"His name is Brock Hendricks." Brett handed the kid's wallet to Tango. "Look what I found in his pants, guys." He held up Taz's underwear and tossed it to him. "And if that ain't good enough, this is why he's here." He unfolded a white piece of paper, printer paper, with one of the Internet pictures on it. One of Taz rubbing his hardening cock for the camera, and Tango kissing him.
"Aw, shit. I knew this would happen!" Tango snatched the picture and crumbled it up. "Brock. You are the kid from Earth Sciences, aren't you?" The kid narrowed his eyes, but couldn't speak around the gag. "What do you want from us, Brock? Why are you here, and why are you jacking off in my laundry room?"
"If he ain't gonna talk, let Brett have 'im, Tango." Taz waved his hand dismissively. "Looks like he was doing fine 'til we got here." He stood up and went to leave, stopping in front of Brett. "Fuck him up, dude." He winked.
"Leave us alone, Tang. I want to talk to him." Brett cracked him knuckles.
"I still think we should call the police." Tango stood up and went to the door. "Brett, don't do anything stupid, 'kay?" Brett nodded, and he turned to go down and help Taz clean up the front room, which now smelled a bit musky.
"I got you figured out." Brett said, closing the door behind them and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm gonna tell you a story, and you tell me when I'm wrong, okay? I think that you might have had a crush on one or more of my buddies during school. What do you think?" Brock glared up at him but made no moves. "In fact, I think maybe you fantasized about them, didn't you?" Was that a flicker? Brett couldn't tell. "But for some reason, like being shy or some shit, or the fact that you thought they were straight, you never talked to them, but blame them for the lack of your courage, right?"
Brock's eyes burned as he listened to the tall blond. He hated him, but couldn't hate him. He wanted to run, but couldn't run. His ribs ached, and he wanted to lower his arms. He was so ashamed for getting caught, and for letting himself get into this. His head ached from the kick he got from Taz.
"So what are you here for, with no weapon, and no camera, Brock? Why would you come here if it wasn't to talk to them?" Brett reached for the gag and loosened it. "I'm gonna take this off now, Brock, and if you scream, I will pound your teeth into the back of your mouth in one shot." He pulled the cloth off and threw it on the floor. "Ready to answer some questions, or shall I just knock your ass out and drop you on the front lawn at your place?"
"What do you want to know?" Brock mumbled, working his jaw.
"I'll be go to hell. It can talk." Brett tilted his head and looked at Brock's dirty features. "You know, you might actually be attractive under all that attitude. Why are you here?"
"I don't remember getting here." Brock answered honestly. "I don't remember what happened until you guys started, uh, whatever." The back of his mind registered the fact that this blond god had just said he was attractive, but the front brain didn't hear it.
"You don't remember? That's kinda bullshit isn't it?" Brett stood up and went to the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth. "I'm gonna wipe your face off, Brock. You can enjoy it, or hate it. I don't care which." He wiped at the smudges of dirt, revealing an almost elf like face. Brock's fine brown hair was a mess, and he smoothed it out of his face. "Damn, Brock, you're not bad looking under all the dirt." Brett felt the other tense under his hand.
"Please, don't tease me." Brock swallowed. "I just wanted to see them, okay? I didn't want to hurt anybody."
Brett leaned back and saw that Brock was near tears. "I'm gonna untie you. I think I scared you bad enough. If you ever fuck with my friends again, I'll snap you in half, got it?" He leaned over and pulled on the belts he'd used.
Brock slowly sat up, cradling his ribs and rubbing his wrists. Brett stood up and opened the door. "If you're attracted to them, I understand. I am, too. But there's other ways to let them know, dude. It's not their fault you never dared to talk to them." He scooped up the black clothing and dropped it on the bed. "You'd look a lot better in something with color, man."
"Like what?" Brock made no move to pick up his clothes, unsure of exactly what he was doing, feeling very afraid, but not wanting to leave all of the sudden.
"Anything but black. It's old news, man. You think their gonna like some vampire wannabe?" Brett pointed down the stairs. "They like life, and color, and humor. Not this Goth shit."
"I'm not a Goth." Brock looked up tentatively. He met Brett's eyes, and for a second realized he could get lost in them very easily. "I just don't like attention. I wasn't trying to attract them anyway."
Brett leaned against the dresser and folded his arms. "Who, then?" Brock whispered something, and Brett leaned forward. "I didn't hear that."
"You." Brock said a tiny bit louder, then tensed and waited for Brett to beat the hell out of him. It's what he deserved, what he expected, and knew that it was coming. He closed his eyes and waited.
Brett was taken back by the answer. He blinked, then looked at Brock's face and saw him squeeze his eyes shut, waiting for the blow. He was so vulnerable, sitting in the middle of Tango's bed in his boxers, pale like he never went out in the sun and thin but defined, his smooth features clearly expecting the worst. Something clicked in Brett. He hated watching the under dogs get pounded, and he hated the bastards that did the pounding. Some asshole had kicked this kid enough to make him into some perversion of reality, and he hated whoever did it.
But there was something else. Brett hated being alone, too, and knew what it was like. He looked at Brock, who was small and scared, and he saw a shadow of what could have been his own destiny. It tugged at his heart. It also attracted him, a lot.
"Open your eyes." He commanded quietly. Brock did so, and then looked up at him. "Come here." Confusion washed over Brock's face. "I won't hurt you. Come here." Brock slid off the bed and walked over to stand in front of Brett. "You don't need to be afraid around me. I won't let anyone hurt you while you're with me." He put his hands on Brock's shoulders, feeling him shiver, and bent to kiss him lightly on the mouth.
Brock almost swooned. Those perfect lips were now in contact with his, and he hesitantly returned the kiss. He lifted his hands and placed them on Brett's chest. Brett was warm and solid, and Brock felt his knees begin to buckle. Brett held him up and broke the kiss, looking into his eyes.
"If you want to talk to us, we'll listen. If you want to be with us, you can, but you can't be this weirdo person, you have to be yourself." Brett said, wiping at the tears that had fallen on Brock's cheeks. "You really are beautiful. I'm not saying that just to dick around."
Brock nodded and impulsively threw his arms around Brett and put his head on his massive chest. Oh, please, don't ruin this, he thought, unable to stop the tears. Please, don't let this go away. Brett's arms encircled him, and he felt so safe, so happy.
"You wanna go down and talk to Tango and Taz? Tell us what the deal is?" Brett asked, leaning back. It felt so right to hold this guy, so right to feel his heart open up to him. He hoped it wasn't a huge mistake. Brock nodded again, but put his hand on Brett's arm before they left Tango's room.
"Do you think I could borrow some clothes?" He asked, looking up into those wonderful eyes again. "Maybe something other than black?" Brett grinned, lighting up Brock's heart. They kissed again, feeling something grow like a wildfire between them.