After school, I hang out at my car--parked conveniently next to Tyler's--waiting for him to come out of the school by the door close to the weight room and the Shop garage. I lean against the hood of Tyler's sky blue Mercury Topaz (a true-blue hand-me-down from his sister) and slide my hands into my pockets. My cock stirs at the sensation, as if to urge the move to Phase Two. I smile at the prospect of banging Tyler on the hood of his car.
But then...we haven't discussed anal yet. And I don't want to bring it up. Especially since it means a few things, chief among a consecration of sorts. Fucking Tyler would just about cinch the gay card. Mutual oral sex is fine--and if you're Clinton it's not even really sex. Ramming my cock up Tyler's ass and hearing him moan for it? That's something else.
I want to hear him moan for it.
But I don't want to press the issue. Particularly since he still wants Sarah in his life. Part of me almost wants to walk up to her and spill the beans. Yes, you little bitch, I'm fucking your man and he's fucking me. I enjoy it, particularly the way his pubic hair curls and looks like a million different question marks. Does your pubic hair look like that? I wonder--Tyler too, probably, he hasn't seen it in ages. And he won't cause you know what? I'm fucking his brains out.'
But that was not true. Not entirely. I wasn't anywhere close to fucking him or his brains out. So far we'd only traded blowjobs and fell asleep in each others arms on his couch. His cock rubbed against my ass--oh, God, who knows how many times--and it was great. But actually...consummating things...
The thought is pushed from my mind as I see the beige door to the weight room slowly push ope. Tyler's behind it, wearing his trademark black gym shorts, blue Nikes and a wifebeater. A gym bag is slung across one shoulder. As he walks closer, I see one of his eyes is black and blue.
Someone gave him a shiner.
Fuckers.
"Jesus." My voice is something below a shriek when he gets to the car, opens the door and throws his bag in the back seat. Shows it just about as much care as a delinquent pet.
"What the hell happened?"
"Nothing," he says quietly. Like he's trying to underplay it or drive it from his mind.
"Not nothing," I say.
He opens the door, fishes keys out of his pocket and starts `er up. I get in on the passenger side.
We're a half mile from home when he speaks.
"I told some of the guys. About us." On the steering wheel, he hands tremble gently. This was nothing new. People had been calling me a fag since 8th grade. I'd gotten used to it. Tyler? Wasn't. And...he still had Sarah.
"You...told the guys--the wrestling team?"
"Yeah," he says and clears his throat. "I was benching when it came up. I was just wearing shorts. They asked me if I'd gotten laid recently, and I said yeah. They wanted to know who. I said you. Said we spent the night together. Billy didn't fucking believe it, but I kept at it. Said it was the best blowjob ever."
"And...?"
"Then Billy threw me off the bench, onto the floor. Sat on my fucking chest and started slapping me. Alan and Kyle and about five others picked me up and held me in place while Billy pulled my shorts down. He started pulling on my cock while the other started--"He scowls. And puts his foot down on the accelerator. The car picks up speed.
"--Started slapping my ass. Kyle called me a fucking faggot, and Jacob sucker punched me. That sent me to the floor. All fours and..."
Silence. For about a minute.
"Ty...?"
"Billy fucking got down in my face and spit on me. Threw me back on my back. And then...then they were all naked and crouching over me. Kyle pissed on me some. Billy started jacking off on my chest. Rubbing that piece of shit cock on my goddamn skin. I couldn't get up, I couldn't fuckin' do anything."
He slows down. His house presents itself, just up the road.
"They started rubbing their cocks in my face. Sick fuckers. Their gross...dirty-ass fuckin' cocks. Asked me if I liked it and if I liked it to start sucking like a little fucking bitch. Billy pulled me to my feet and yanked my cock again. Jacob and Kyle each punched me in the kidneys and Billy gave me this damn shiner, John."
"Tyler--"
"Coach Jay came in to see four naked guys on the floor and about ten other standing in a circle around Billy, Jacob, Kyle and me. Some of the guys had their shorts turned down and were jacking off to this shit. Jay got Billy and Jake and Kyle out of there. Ran them through the hallway naked down to the Office. Let the Principal take care of `em, he said.
By the time he came back, I was still on the floor. Still being watched like fuckin' roadkill by half the wrestling team. Half the very horny and just as willing to fuck with me wrestling team."
We pull into the driveway. Tyler parks the car and we just sit there. Waiting for him to finish the story.
When Jay got back, the team slowly dispersed into the locker room. I got up--slowly--and walked to the shower. When the water started, I just collapsed."
He turns and looks at me. His bottom lip quivers, and his eyes go glossy. Tears are on their way.
"I cried, John. For the first time since my fuckin' dog died, I cried. That was ten goddamn years ago, John! I haven't cried in ten years, and those sonsabitches did it. They fuckin' ruined me."
"I'm...I'm sorry." It's all I can say. And I'm ashamed I can't think of anything else. He wipes his eyes and looks at me.
"John, this was a lousy day. I want to feel better, and I don't care how." "Tyler?"
Tyler stares straight ahead as he says it.
"My parents are out of town for the week. So. We can go upstairs, and I can get a condom and we can have sex. Or we can't. I leave it to you. You were the reason I told them I like dicks today, John. I don't hold that against you. But I want to feel better, and you're the only way. So I'm gonna get out of the car. And I'm going inside. I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready."