Date: Sat, 12 Dec 2015 13:55:22 +0000
From: TCHASE MCPHEE <survivalgame@outlook.com>
Subject: ?AGaiNSt thE GRoiN? 01   NEW story (TaGs: HS/College/Adult, Gay/Straight, Bears/Cubs, Muscle/Chub, Dom/Sub)

% The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any
resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely
coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons,
of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, Santa's
village, school campuses, crowded beaches, campgrounds, neighborhoods,
streets, cul-de-sacs, dungeons, nor governmental or non-governmental areas,
of which the story is staged.


% If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then
why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you wanna barf
or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story.


% States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing
`adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject,
abiding by their own laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain
`adult material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at
your own risk!


% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use
protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless
he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt.


Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have,
over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I
will have to start cutting steamy characters out of my stories.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

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^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey,
so I would suggest not reading it in a public place...unless you're a breed
apart from the rest, who likes to get noticed...just sayin'! :)


%


"AGaiNSt thE GRoiN" 01

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee


^o^


%


Growing up together, who could guess, two boys, living next door to each
other, could have so much in common.


Early on in their teen years, it was like the switch was flicked and on
came the lightbulb in their heads. They admitted to each other, how strange
it was, turning heads away from girls, but loving how guys looked.


Whether it were Scott or Tom, neither could decide `who' instigated the
first kiss.


One Saturday afternoon, at Tom's house, putting together a plastic model,
they studied the instructions, debating if there was a manufacturer defect
or the worded paper was incorrect.


Tom, 12-years old at the time, insisted the instructions went one way.


Scott, 11, more the bossy type when feeling right about something, grabs
the instructions away, "Lemme see!"


Realizing at an early age he could be full of the devil, Tom smiles,
thinking how something so small could be so funny, grabs the paper back,
"Say, please!"


Unknown to either, the `why' of it, staring into each others' eyes often
provoked both into a ruff'n'tumble match. Tom's toothy smile was saying it
in feeling, `come and get me!'


Beginning of the age of computers, Tom had accidentally happened onto a
man's website, showing him lying on the floor, naked, with another dude,
kissing. At first shocking, which caused Tom to raise his eyebrows, it also
coincided with the first time Tom thought of it as something serious,
instead of the ridiculous, `two dudes kissing!'


Unlike the short movie clip, those two naked men were lying on top of each
other on the sofa. Tom and Scott sat on the floor.


Perhaps Tom hadn't any intention on recreating the scene, but things just
fell into place and he couldn't help himself.


Scott grabbing the paper, Tom falling back against the carpet, Scott
tumbling on top of him, "Who-o-o-o-oa, Scott!"


Scott, straddling Tom's hips, suddenly sits up, with much more surprise on
his face.


Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Scott exclaims, "What the hell
was that, Tom?!"


%


Tom's father had his own drying cleaning business, with three stores in the
chain. Mrs. Collins, the financial brains behind the businesses, was the
bookkeeper. Their hard labor kept both at the business, with little family
time at home.


Tom had figured out, the reason he was there at all, was a pawn in the
chess game of life, to shower gifts on, a substitute for parents being able
to afford to buy things for their son, which they never were fortunate
enough to own when they were growing up.


Contrary to Tom's situation, Mrs. Suarez was the business owner. Starting
out as a bookseller for someone else, she soon gathered the knowledge and
expertise, opening her own Christian bookstore. Scott's father was a
plumber, who was employed by `his' father. However, Scott wondered why his
dad wasn't around much. It wasn't until a few years later he would
understand what parents being separated meant, finally leading to the
`D-word'. Not a total surprise, Scott knew some of his school chums were in
the same dingy. He could give out advice to buds, if their parents were
separated, 9 out of 10 times, leading to divorce. Only thing he left out,
Scott never expected it to happen to him!


Regardless of the circumstances of the parents, the fact they were scarce,
when needed the most, it worked out for both, Tom and Scott, having each
other!


Neither friend had an idea there could be more to a deep friendship than
just kissing.


As years progressed, even though they participated in different activities,
Scott into the track scene, Tom more the swimmer type, when day was done,
they always hung out together.


Five years after that first kiss, they deemed themselves pro status at how
to kiss, the before and after.


Growing up, the two lived on `easy street.' Not totally showered with
everything they wanted, they lived a comfortable life. When it came to
clothes, activities requiring the big bucks, like a hiking adventure to the
Rockies, or Tom's swim team's trip to watch the Canadian Olympics, they
were never questioned about where the financial backers were coming
from. Money was just `there', to be spent.


Neither could see around the corner, the nasty blow, when life is going
good, a wrench thrown under the hood. What is a smooth and running engine,
suddenly stops turning over.


Scott remembers it well, about to head out to a track event, stopped by his
mother, literally, a hand to his chest.


"I know your after school activities are important to you, Scotty, but you
see...and I know this is God's will," she was adamant in her beliefs, "but
your father has fallen on rough times. I'm sorry, Scotty, but you're going
to need to go out and find a job."


"What?" Scott reacts, like he didn't understand what was being thrown at
him. "What about your store? I thought you were doing good?"


"The Lord giveth and takes away."


He knew there was a bookstore at the mall.


"Before I head out to the store, why don't we pray about it?"


Suddenly, it's like a person who loses their faith over a period of time,
it all coming at once for Scott, "No!" he flicks his mother's hand off of
his, "I'm not babbling out a bunch of mumble-jumble stuff to an entity...we
don't even know he exists!"


"Thou shall not take thy Lord's name in vain!"


Suddenly, Scott's mom loses all control, slapping Scott hard, across the
face, which makes him unsteady on his feet, falling slightly to the
side. With the weight of his backpack over the right shoulder, his knee
gives out. Landing on his ass, one hand behind, the other caressing a
cheek, he looks up, "Sure, no problem, mother," he returns with sarcastic
attitude, getting up, "whatever you say. Uh, like is that the Lord speaking
through you again?"


It seemed like her revolver had emptied the last bullet, his mother
standing there, saying nothing.


When Scott and Tom reached their senior year in high school, they had made
some plans. Scott draws off those plans.


Though, not meant as a get-even tactic, "By the way, after graduation, Tom
and I are going away."


Again, maybe it was `her' Lord speaking, or Scott's mom suddenly afraid of
being alone, "You and Tom? Going away? Where would you go, Scotty?" she
laughs as if a funny joke.


Scott smirked, thinking of himself as still her good, little Christian boy,
"Maybe the Rockies, or even Canada. Wherever the road takes us. I got an
idea. Why don't you get on your knees and ask your God about it!
Comprendo?"


Scott slammed the door behind him, before he was sure another slap up aside
the head would follow.


Torn between her strong faith and what looked as if the devil had taken
over Scott's life, Mrs. Juarez did just that, falling to her knees,
clasping hands and raising them up, along with her words.


%


Waiting in his car, Tom knew something was up, "Good morning to you too,
Scott," he puts the car in gear.


"Sorry," Scott brushes his attitude away. Then it comes back in his head,
"I'm just tired of putting up with her `Lord's way' shit. God is gonna do
this, God is gonna do that...a guy can only take so much of God, you know?"


Tom took it in stride, whatever Scott fed to him in the past, regarding
religion, but he had to stand up for Mrs. Juarez, at least once to patch
the relationship, "I dunno, Scott, the Man came in kind of handy when you
lost your footing on that ledge?"


"That was different," Scott could recall the incident as clear as if it
happened an hour ago.


"How so?" Tom, the peacemaker tried mending things, even though he was only
semi-religious, more a guy who thought the Big Bang set everything into
revolution and then some woman named `Mother Nature' kept all in balance.


"It's complicated."


"Oh."


Okay, so Tom knew this a dead end, not worth the effort in pursuing, when
his best bud used that phrase.


"I need a favor, sort of."


In Tom's vocabulary, according to how their friendship went, there was a
difference between `I need a favor' and `I need a favor, sort of', "I hope
it's not going to cost me much?"


"Hey, right now you're sitting on more money than me, bro, like how much
money you got saved up?"


Defined, Tom knew this was the `sort of' type of favor, "What did you do?"


Slouching in his seat, Scott's silence prevailed.


"Are you going to tell me, or do I have to pull the car over and we'll both
be late for class?!"


"Well," Scott takes baby steps, "do you remember we talked about going
away, just you and me, setting up house someplace temporary for the
summer?"


"I remember," Tom knew there was more to follow, not wanting to get locked
out, on the `complicated' bit.


"I told mom you and me were going away."


God made Tom pull the car over!


"You what? When? Like, when are we supposedly running away?" Tom was all
over Scott, without touching him.


"You gotta understand, she hit me!" Scott backtracks.


"So?" Tom pictures this compact, 5'4 woman, "You can't take it like a man?"


"No, bro," Scott gets dramatic, placing a hand on Tom's forearm, "you don't
get it...she hit me hard, bro. It's like, my cheek is still swollen, see?"


Trying to be serious, even though this wasn't one of those special times
when Tom stare into Scott's beautiful green eyes, studied the gingery tint
to his dark brown hair, he could not keep on topic, "Well, you at least
have your mother's Irish heritage to thank, for these beautiful, crystal
green eyes and..."


"Want to dummy up, bro? This isn't a get-hard session, you know?" Scott
falls back, belt tightening automatically, leashing his butt to the seat.


So, it did throw Tom into a temporary tailspin, "Sorry about that. Okay,
well the first thing," he turns on the ignition, "is getting through this
school day."


"Yeah, great, but I'm skipping out of track."


Taking the upper hand, which sometimes they did for each other in moments
of stress, Tom dictates, "You're `not' skipping out on track. Remember,
you've got the team to disappoint, you know?"


A whim, Scott didn't really believe himself, that he would miss an
important track event, let alone get the coach mad at him. Outweighing it,
"Yeah, bad enough I got one Holy-roller pissed off at me!"


"Stop thinking about it," Tom puts the car in park, after pulling into a
slot.


"I'm trying," Scott doesn't make a move, except to stare out the
windshield.


"Fix your tie or...do I have to do it for you?"


Force behind flicking Tom's hand off his tie was a different emotion than
ticked off at his mom, but there was reason also, "Hey, man, you trying to
get us killed?"


The vehicle was at stopped, but it's not like someone wasn't watching.


"It's not like, there's not others like us, Scott?"


They've been over this, both agreeing sometimes it was better to keep
secrets secret, "College," Scott exhales, "I can't wait to get there so we
can be ourselves."


That teed off feeling began to subside, Scott `feeling like' getting out of
the car before their dillydallying around made them late.


Scott did press the issue, "So, what about it...up for a road trip this
summer?"


"Fix your tie!"


Even though Scott had had the confrontation with his mother this morning,
it was Tom who tried setting his world right. Making it through the last
few weeks of high school, graduation, possible road trip all seemed to fall
on Tom's shoulders...


"Oh wait," Scott turns around abruptly in the doorway, placing a hand on
Tom's chest, "there's something I forgot to tell ya."


Tom couldn't help, but look down a little, his tie pinned to his shirt by
his bud's hand. He pulls his navy neck tie free, "Great, but can I loosen
the noose first?"


Dropping his hand, Scott froze in the doorway, like a framed portrait, "If
we're late, it's your fault, bro?"


"You gonna keep me in suspense all day?"


"We can't go on a road trip. Mom says I gotta get a job."


For the walk up the second flight of the Catholic school, closest thing to
religion Scott's mom could find, Scott and Tom tossed questions and answers
back and forth, regarding the job.


%


Homeroom was held for attendance, 15 minutes of students chatting about
what happened since yesterday.


"Later," Scott says, dropping Tom off at his homeroom.


"Yeah," Tom was bound to give the morning some cheer, "keep a stiff upper
dick...I mean lip!"


"Will you watch that?!" Scott looks around.


Being late had it's value, the hallway like a morgue, dead except for the
two friends whom walked it.


"Later," Tom's hand is left waving.


"Oh shit, Dooz!" Scott suddenly stops short at the intersection of
hallways.


With quick reflex, the custodian pulls his wheeled refuse container out of
the way, "Sorry `bout that, kid!"


Narrowly keeping it from broadsiding Scott's crotch and the rest of the
hardware, it tips over, unleashed from Pete's hand.


Some people could do just about anything and get away with it.


Everyone he knew, called the strapping, heavyset custodian, `Dooz', except
the principal, `the nun', as she was unaffectionately called, naming him,
Mr. Dudzic!


Scott and Tom had heard stories about `the nun', thinking the best idea was
to stay out of the principal's way.


Over the four years, Scott himself has heard some of these rumors fly, but
also about Pete Dudzic, which he believed some, others not simply
caring. Taking the custodian for how he could be, was more important than
some nasty rumors. If it were true, `Dooz' being a one-time alcoholic, for
certain Scott didn't think it were true now.


However, kneeling down, placing his backpack on the floor, helping `Dooz'
pick up the trash, Scott could swear he smelt beer or wine on the
custodian's breath. Probably it's what kept Scott on his knees too long,
before he realized there was this `black skirt' next to him.


Looking up, at Dooz, Scott says, "I have a weird feeling about this..."


"Mr. Juarez, do you realize you are 2 minutes late to homeroom?"


After this morning, Scott really didn't give a fuck. Turning around,
sitting casually on his ass, he says, "When are you going to get outta that
penguin outfit and get a real job, sis?"


For a person who rarely shows emotion, something revolting made her eyes go
white around the edges. Scott knew he hit a nerve, which made him somewhat
pleased.


Not meaning to, Scott laughs, calls out, turning his head around, "I told
her, huh Dooz?"


Then Scott looks around to the right, his left, "Dammit all! Dooz done up
and left me...coward!"


Gone also was the rolling garbage receptacle, which he heard down at the
gloomy end of the hall, where the burnt out light fixture hadn't been
replaced yet.


`The nun' stood there, probably counting up how many Hail Mary's Scott
would need chant, to clear the slate.


"Follow me, Mr. Suarez."


By this time, Scott was really into himself, or rather in a fit of
defiance, "Fuck you, sis! I ain't goin' nowhere!"


Well, Scott thought that to be the case, until 2 security guards headed his
way, "Oh shit!"


It made him move real quick!


Grabbing up the strap of his book bag, he took to running down the hallway
in the opposite direction, darkness. If he kept on straight, he'd wind up
on Dooz' turf. To the right, the other stairwell would take him up.


Sometimes a private school didn't get all the funding they needed, reason
Scott was praising Dooz right now, for not changing the florescent ceiling
lights. He could be heard and not seen, which fell right into place with
his instant plan. Slamming the door to the stairwell, he headed into the
custodian's territory.


Waiting, clammy with worry, Scott's back was glued to the wall. Soon,
anxiety fled, hearing the door to the next floor slam shut.


Then, was scared shit, hearing, "Evading the police, Scott?"


"Oh shit, Dooz, you scared the hell outta me!"


"Too bad `the nun' doesn't see it that way. Would've saved you from 200
Hail Mary's!"


"At least," Scott says, taking up what seemed like a natural path,
following Dooz back to wherever it took them.


"You'll be safe here until the end of the day."


"You think `the nun' will be mad at me for that long?"


"Only time will tell."


Walking through two doors, Dooz closes the second one, saying, "Not many
have been back here. For one, I'm sure `the nun' doesn't know this room
even exists."


Chortling, Scott says, "Afraid you might jump her?"


In all four years of high school, Scott's never heard this rumor about
Dooz, "I'm more likely to jump `you'?"


"Get outta town!" Scott stands from just sitting down. "You, Dooz? You're
gay, too?"


Scott didn't realize it, but Dooz did, "Oh? How long have you kept that
secret, Scott?"


"What secret?"


"Well, if I'm not mistaken," he opens a short fridge, pulls out 2 water
bottles, "implicating yourself, when answering a question with a question,
about being gay?"


Rather than thinking the reality of the situation, coming out to Dooz,
Scott says, "Yeah...well...I guess it's not a secret anymore. You won't say
anything to anyone?"


"Of course," Dooz hands Scott a bottle, then knocks his against the other,
"cheers!"


Screwing the top off, sipping, Scott says, "It's cold."


Not which it could give him some jollies, Dooz stirs up the pot, "So, when
did you first know?"


"Uh, when I took a sip?"


It made Dooz smile, chuckle, "That's okay, if you're not comfortable
talking about your first day experience. How about I go first?"


That worked, Scott laying back against the old sofa, probably found on a
curb, "Really? Are you sure?"


"Of course. I'm okay with `who' I am!"


"Which means," Scott swallowed, inhaled, "I'm not?"


"I don't know. Are you?"


"I guess. I mean, if people did know I was gay...well, it doesn't
matter. We graduate in two months. If guys know we are gay, it's not going
to bother us."


"We? Us?" Dooz senses, "I take it you're not talking about you and me?"


"Uh," Scott looked towards the ceiling for recall, "no, um, not
exactly. It's complicated."


Dooz, in self-retirement, years ago being a psychology professor. For his
own reasons, a spectator at a Catholic high school for boys, gives him
enough field experience, "Is Tom your boyfriend?"


"Tom?" Scott is taken aback. Nervous, biting a lip, "Tom who?"


"The `Tom' who is your taxi service, the `Tom' you drop off at homeroom?
The `Tom'..."


"Okay, okay, I catch your drift, but I'm not supposed to say," Scott
suddenly feels on the defensive.


"Doesn't matter," is not what Scott thought he was going to hear.


"Really?"


Then, when they hear voice in the outer hallway, "To be continued...you
wanna hop over the back of the sofa?"


"You're going to hide me?"


"What are gay friends for!"


While hiding back there, before Dooz had gone away, he feels something drop
on his back. Already pinned to the floor, Scott doesn't dare move, leaving
his laptop and all at his back.


He didn't hear much, only Dooz saying, "Haven't seen him!"


Mumbling something about owing Dooz, Scott cups a hand over his own mouth.


Hearing the door close, Dooz, copying the good witch, sings to the munchkin
behind the sofa, "Come out, could out from wherever you are..."


"Did they ask if I was here?"


"Not really, which means I didn't have to do any Hail Mary's for lying,"
Dooz smiles. Then, before Scott can process, "They searched the building,
figuring you left."


"Thanks for covering for me."


"Well," Dooz stands there, "I guess you owe me one, huh?"


Scott gulped. At 18-years old, he might be a little stoopid about how the
gay world revolves, but a favor for a favor, "Um, like, you want me to..."


Walking over to a cluttered desk, Dooz says, "Been working on this boat
model, from parts collected around the school. Was wondering how good you
are at working with models, without directions?"


On the inside, Scott was sighing a long exhale, thinking thoughts of what
happened in porn stories he's read on the internet. He's glad Dooz chose
another direction.


When got Scott situated, interested in patching the hole in the hull, Dooz
let on, "Well, some of us need to work, but don't you worry. If you hear
anything, just duck behind the sofa."


"Thanks Dooz. I really do owe you one, but..."


"Yeah, right," Dooz cuts Scott off, "I'll put it on your account!"


%


As he put a piece of wood on the inside of the hull, gluing it, Scott's
mind wandered.


They had watched the `suits' porn video at Tom's house. For sure, it made
Scott smile, thinking if they ever got caught by his mom, he was certainly
going to hell!


Deeper in thought, it got Scott thinking...something throbbing...


Tom, the more aggressive, was always the one pulling his shirt off
overhead. By the time Scott strips his shirt, Tom's fingers are working
away at the belt line.


Scott remembers well, the first time Tom fixed the laptop on his desk,
lifting the lid, screen lighting up.


"Whoa-a-a!" Scott suddenly gets excited.


Having casually hopped onto Tom's bed, he had lay there, turning a soccer
ball round and round, watching the stripes turn into blurs.


Now, with something new to focus his attention, "Is he for real?"


Tom shook his head and thinking about everything else gay which has come
between them through the years, "You're joking, right?"


This was the difference, Scott being brought up by a parent too concerned
with how her son viewed the world. For Scott, `family night' would entail
sitting down and watching the newest Christian video which came on the
market. One film, about the Rapture, Scott though cool, a teen his age
looking very `fox!' Regardless, Scott became his mother's `marketing'
expert, whether to stock up on a teen Christian video, or not.


Instead of what Scott was viewing now, Paul Wagner on a black leather sofa,
naked the length, legs splayed, and Dirk Caber coming up the `valley of
thighs'. Ready to give Paul his licks and a blowjob neither would ever
forget.


To the contrary, on Scott's laptop, he viewed a cute golden retriever
puppy, one which he wished he had owned.


Instead of answering Scott's stoopid question, Tom removes his last article
of clothing and mocks, "Nah, that's a picture. This here, is the real
thing," Tom displays his half-hard shaft on the palm of his hand."


Not a total dummy, Scott rebukes, "No, dah, but I was thinking..."


Scott was thinking, as it had become obvious for the two, Tom more the
pampering half of the duo, "I know what you're thinking, bro, but you're
like so damn slow all the time?"


Of course Scott was more the reluctant one at removing every article of
clothing, Tom so fast at it, it's like he practiced stripping down,
redressing, stripping, till he got it like, his sexy-best!


"Where'd they go?" Scott says, Paul and Dirk getting covered up by the
movie credits!


Having frozen in place, Scott was on edge, two hands clinging to a zipper,
which wasn't moving.


Even Tom's plunging into the bed didn't keep Scott from watching the
screen, "You're in my way, moron!"


Tom loved it, when Scott suddenly took up with `the attitude,' "Oh yeah,
get rough on me, bro!"


"That's nice," Scott, for the second time ignored Tom.


Tom chortled, the 3 `suits' on screen, male secretary, male business
associate and the boss, cutting Scott's attention away.


"Oh my god, he's so adorable!"


"Yeah," Tom had to agree, "that's that sexy Landon Conrad."


"Hot," Scott says, watching Landon unbutton.


Laying by Scott's side, Tom says, "And I'm not?"


He wasn't watching Tom, so when he pats him, saying, "You are too," his
hand fell slightly short of Tom's thigh.


"That'll get me up and running!"


Scott bopped the tip of Tom's cock!


Being it was real and not flesh and hair on screen, Scott turns to Tom,
"Oh, did I do that?"


Funny, Tom flails both hands out to his side, "Well, it wasn't me, bro!"


Then, the screen wasn't so important. Well, not right now, with 3 guys,
still in their clothes, even though Landon, the boss, started to work on
his associate's tie, Tom says, "This is was one of the first `suits' movies
he starred in."


It's not the first time Scott has viewed, touched Tom down there, which Tom
making comment on the movie, "Really? He's so...hairy!"


It made Scott giggle, perhaps a little nervous, watching his first porn
movie, as opposed to pics of naked men.


"Yeah, but you don't see Gage much anymore."


"Cage?"


Tom corrects, "G, dummy...Gugh..Gage..."


While setting Scott straight, Tom notices, "Damn, are you ever going to get
outta those jeans?"


He doesn't wait for Scott to undress, Tom pushing himself up, turning
around, straddling his friend.


"I can't see," Tom blocking his view.


"Yeah, well if you don't shed the threads, I won't know if you're liking
the vid, bro!"


"What does that mean?" Scott places a hand in between Tom's arm and bod,
giving a gentle push, lurching his head to the right.


"Think about it," Tom's in a forgiving mood, "if I can't see your shaft,
bro, I won't know if you like the flick!"


Scott was too involved in the `flick', watching the secretary, Levi Karter,
get stripped by Gage. Landon, he's already stripped down, quicker than a
banana peel.


Figuring in the chain of command, Scott jumps the gun, "Betcha the
secretary..."


"That's Levi Karter. Hot, huh?"


"Very. Bet Levi's going to have his mouth stuffed. Man, can you picture all
of Cage's..."


"Gage!"


"Whateva, all of that pubic hair cutting off Levi's breathing?"


"Uh," Tom stutters, "I don't think his hairy pubes is gonna do the
trick. More like those big balls smothering his nostrils!"


The euphoria of the whole scenario, lighthearted joking, giggling, it
started to make them both tipsy, without a drop of whiskey.


When the camera changes angle, Scott can't believe it. The cam moves so the
viewer can see Levi's mouth coming close to Gage's pubes, or rather his
hefty balls.


"Whoa-a-a, you're so right, bro," it makes Scott launch into a sit up.


"Yeah," Tom knew, "it's not like I've never seen Gage's hardware!"


Laughing out loud, it provoked Tom, "This isn't the first time you've seen
this movie?"


Instead of telling Scott, this not the first porn video he's seen, Tom
hints, "You think this is the only porn video I've seen with Gage in it?"


Gulping down spit, "There's more?"


Reigniting the flame between the two of them, Tom says, "Sure. Got dozens
of movies just like this," though since he's seen this one more than a half
dozen times, providing some hefty jerkoffs, "keep watching."


Nasty little comment, Scott says, "At least it's more exciting than you and
me!"


They could mock each other out with no repercussions, though Tom thought
Scott hadda lotta-nerve, "Hmm!"


"Oh wow! I thought for sure..."


"Yeah, love that, don't you?" Tom says, of the tables suddenly turning,
Gage going to Levi's big club, instead of Levi nosing up to Gage's big
balls.


"You should know," Scott says sarcastically, though more interested in
watching Levi, legs apart, Gage in an instant opening his mouth, going down
on the pole.


"Keep your eye on Landon!"


While Scott kept an eye, Tom, who knows the whole suits movie almost frame
by frame, eyes up Scott.


So engrossed in watching Landon leave his post, against the wall, like he
was holding it up while keeping himself hard, walk over to where his
secretary and business associate are getting it on, "I wonder what he's
gonna do?"


Tom knew what he was gonna do, after lifting Scott's briefs over his hefty
erection!


"Oh shit!" Scott threw a hand over his own mouth.


Slowly peeling Scott's pants off his legs, mountain of briefs waiting to be
stripped down, Tom says, "I've seen worse!"


There was more to that, but Scott didn't show interest in knowing about
what Tom knew, "I wonder if it stopped at Gage's tonsils?"


Tom could picture this scene a million times and never get tired of
it. Though, with his mind on unveiling Scott's tented briefs, he recycled
it through his mind, Gage's bobbing head.


"I can't believe Landon did that," Scott meant Landon walking across the
room, taking his empty hand and pushing with force on Gage's head.


Like the domino effect, Gage's face gets pushed into Levi's pubes.


As result, Levi bucks his hips.


Landon, stroking, grabs Gage by the scalp, pulls him off Levi. Throwing one
leg over the sofa, he kneels on one knee. His other leg stands straight on
the floor. Straddling Levi and facing Gage, Landon barks out an order, "Get
on me, bitch!"


Scott thinks, "It must've been in the script."


"What must've?" Tom, having reached a snag in the undressing, uncovers
Scott's sneakers, pulling at the laces, glancing over.


"Well, right as Landon grabs Gage's head, by the scalp, like I don't know
how Gage can take it..."


"Huh?"


Scott knew he was confusing his bud, "Forget Gage's hair. I meant his
mouth. Like, as Landon forces it over his cock, it looks like Gage already
knew it was going to happen, because his mouth was wide open?"


"When you're a glorified cocksucker, it's all in the reflexes. It's like
your mouth has a brain of it's own!"


Now this piqued Scott's interest, "Really, Tom? Like you're such an
authority on cocksucking now?"


At 17-years old, Tom has had some cool adventures, "


"Uh, yeah," Tom is reluctant to speak out, "I meant to tell ya about that."


Then, suddenly, one of the most exciting parts of the movie, other than the
climatic finish, Landon pulling Gage off, back `on', but two cocks instead
of one, Landon lies back. Kissing fervently, Levi's hands are all over
Landon's ginger-soft, furry bod, reeking havoc with Landon's perky nubs.


Ignoring what could make Scott's balls pulse, "Tell me about what?"


`Damn it!' Tom thought, all ready to get with the cocksucking, like Gage
going down on Levi and Landon's melded cocks, ready to go down on Scott...


"Well?"


At the beginning of their after school time together, Scott looked to Tom
for what was about to happen on screen.


Now, he was more looking down on Tom, "You can turn it off now."


`Oh shit,' Tom thought, thinking Scott wanted the movie off right in a key
spot, where normally guys would have hands on their shafts, working to blow
their loads.


Turning off the movie, there was Paul and Dirk, stuck still in time, a
frozen blowjob in progress.


Even though perturbed, Scott thought the hairy figures deserved one more
look!


On edge, for two dudes who have shared everything since as long as they
could remember, Tom sat there on knees, right at the bottoms of his
friend's feet, "I'm not sure where to start?"


Rather, maybe Tom thought, if he stalled long enough, they could just get
on with doing each other...


"How about at the beginning?" Scott now lay there, arms folded across
middle, staring down the alley of Tom's hairy-glazed chest and stripe.


"You?" Tom nervously laughs.


"I know I was the first guy you sucked off. What I want to know, is what I
don't know?"


Tom was over a barrel. Exhaling, he was ready to spill his guts, "Okay. I
guess I'll start at the beginning."


Showing he wasn't really mad at Tom, "A good place to start," he smiles.


It did take the edge off, yet Tom really wasn't concerned any of his
extracurricular time away from Scott was going to affect their bro'ship.


Knowing this, "Other than us, the first time I sucked another guy's cock is
when I spent a Saturday at the cleaners, when my dad had to leave the store
for an hour."


"When was that?"


"Uh," Tom stalls, "when he opened the third location."


Jumping to conclusions, Scott says, "Last year?"


Tom mulled about, "Uh, yeah, I guess it could have been."


Scott, impatient, asks, "Other than me, how many guys have you sucked off?"


Presently in such a brash manner, it made Tom blush, "Uh, I'm not sure."


"Come," Scott pats the empty spot next to him, "let's watch the rest of the
movie."


This was a revolting development, Tom thinking he was ready to get his ass
reamed out, "You're not mad at me?"


Adult attitude, Scott replies, "We're friends. Not lovers. Right?"


"Right," Tom says, though an ounce of suspicion, like was Scott's fist
going to come down, clubbing his balls.


Then, like nothing was said to deviate from watching Gage's mouth overflow
with cum, the two friends, giving each a handjob, agreeing to experiment,
closing eyes, picturing Gage getting stroked by two hands.


After Tom and Scott exploded, hands slimed up, Scott looks up to Tom, "Can
two hands really get a guy's cock off?"


By habit, as it goes, Tom winds up taking the burden, white lava over the
front of his bod, "If it's big enough!"


%


Reality coming back into focus, Scott realizes he hasn't done much to
remedy the hole in the boat bottom. Looking up for a clock on the wall,
there wasn't one. Another wall told him the same. None of the walls had the
usual big-dial clock. One did turn up something weird for a custodian's
headquarters, a floor to almost ceiling bookcase, taller than the school
library.


Getting up, walking over to it, the closer Scott got, the more he could
pick out the titles. First thing to discover, many of the spines on the
books told him they were old. Standing right in front, strangely, the last
3 or 4 books on each of the 6 shelves were of a psychological nature. Scott
read a few of the spines, his finger traveling from top to bottom, instead
of left to right. Rapidly he was losing interest.


Squatting at the last shelf, to read off some of the book bindings, Scott
discovers something, "That's weird."


Strange that such wide book shelving did not stand flush on the floor,
"Like, how can that be?" it made Scott test the space between one of the
legs and the floor.


Even though seriously engaged in wonder, it made Scott smile when he tried
poking his index finger underneath one of the legs. The day Tom wondered
how it would feel to have, if not his friend's cock up his ass, at least a
finger would show him how it could feel.


Although, trying to slide a finger under a shelf was far more easy than the
unknown, poking a finger into Tom's asshole!


Then Scott's smile grew wider, thinking of using the same trick. What both
buds found out, Scott's finger could slip in easier if it had some kind of
lubrication.


"Nah," Scott gave up the idea of finding some oil, in order to slip his
finger under the shelf leg. He deemed it unimportant, comparing it to two
guys, on the edge, waiting for the inevitable, fickly finger of fate!


Giving up on comparisons, Scott looks around to one side, then the
other. Confirming his findings, none of the legs stood on the floor. From
deduction, he thought, "If it's not standing on the floor," it had to be
attached in some way to the wall.


Studying the outer edge of the bookshelf, he realizes it is fastened in
some way to, not the wall, but a piece of wood attached to the wall.


First idea to come to mind, reason must be that it can't be attached to
concrete or cement blocks. Next, the wooden backing had to be attached to
the wall, "How'd they do that?"


Then Scott lost interest, like it really wasn't that important to know,
which made him smile again. Thinking of a finger up Tom's ass, "Now `that'
was important to know!"


He laughs at himself.


Gazing randomly at the titles, he saw a hardcover title of a paperback he
was reading, `The Night Listener'. He found the Maupin title at a book
fair, surprised there could be a gay-related book feature. With his finger
on the top of the spine, ready to pull the hardcover from the shelf, Scott
reflects on the reason for interest. Just maybe it could fill him with
insight as to the distance between him and his own father.


Pulling it from the shelf, he sat on the sofa. Before he dove into it,
feeling thirsty, he helped himself to a water from the fridge. After taking
a few sips, Scott was ready to dive into the big hardcover book, different
only because the paperback version on his summer reading list seemed puny
in his hands.


He doesn't remember when, could have been 2 pages or 2 chapters into the
book, he felt sleepy. Not sure of his fate, what would happen when he left
the custodian's chambers, he decided a nap could do him some good, so he
chilled out right there on the sofa.


%


Waking up, Scott roared like a lion!


"About time you decided to wake up, bro."


Having had his arms stretched out overhead, Scott's shirt hiked up in
proportion. When he stood, facing Tom, sitting at the hobby desk, he had to
tuck it in. It's then he realizes, `The Night Listener' on the sofa, open,
waiting for him to come back to it.


"What are you doing..." Scott notices the rectangular windows near the
ceiling, blotting out the sun with the dark of night, "...here?"


Standing, turning around, Tom says, "In case you haven't noticed, it's
nighttime?"


Scott had noticed, but even more so, walks over to his bud and with his
pointer finger, points out, "What's this?"


Gliding his finger up the hairy stripe of Tom's bod, "Oh now, don't get me
started?" he giggles.


"Kind of casual for school?"


True, if school were in session, a student could receive detention for
walking around with their shirt untucked. For Tom, it would be worse, `the
nun' or a teacher catching a student with their shirt unbuttoned, exposing
chest, stomach, any morsels of teen hair.


"If school `were' in session!"


"What time is it?"


Tom, who had put the finishing touches on the hull of the boat, "Almost
bedtime, but if it's your mom you're worried about, I got you covered bro."


Since he could joke about gay stuff, unlike a few years ago, Scott says,
"You didn't tell her we were both busy in bed, by chance?"


Setting the boat down, Tom walks over to Scott, sexily saying, "I should
have!"


"I hope you didn't..."


"Chill, bro. Like I said, I've got you covered. Told your mom we had a
project due this week and needed some serious work on it."


"Okay," Scott accepted the excuse, knowing, "at least you're telling the
truth somewhat."


"Uh, by the way, you didn't happen to work on it some?"


Placing a confident hand on Tom's shoulder, Scott says, "Like, I've done
`all' of the work on it?"


"Oh. I guess you're waiting for me to contribute?"


Ever since the beginning of high school, every time there was a team
project, Scott and Tom were the players. It could be tennis, an informal
swim at the school pool, or researching a science or english project, the
pair were on it, volunteering to match themselves up, before getting chosen
by someone else.


They were that close, sharing everything, including getting naked together.


When Scott asked Tom one day, opinion on why he thought they fit so perfect
together, the logic was, "Uh, because like, you're a top and I'm a bottom?"


"Is that your answer for everything?"


It was, for Tom, when they lounged on his bed. Always Tom's house for sexy
stuff, they just couldn't chance Scott's mom coming home and finding them
`being gay!'


Like, as if they were in bed, only standing, Tom moves closer to Scott,
fiddles with his tie, "Of course," Tom gives reason.


Not only audibly spoken in words, Tom presses in until their chests are no
longer a hollow cavity.


Feeling kind of horny after his deep sleep, Scott goes with the flow. Hand,
which was on Tom's shoulder, skis down his back, lips meeting.


"We shouldn't be doing this here, in school," Scott says, but doesn't do
anything about Tom unbuckling his belt!


Tom rationalizes, "School's out. Remember?"


Even though Scott's shirt was still buttoned up tight, he could feel Tom's
lips travel downwards. Always the same, "I don't know how you do that. I
would be dry in the mouth."


By the time Tom is on his knees, his hands have done the job of removing
Scott's belt, unbuttoned the pants, upzipped.


Scott could never understand, if a dude wanted another guy's cock so bad,
why he had to suck in a ballsac, when it was still encased in briefs.


`Self-deprivation' is how Tom explained it, saying it put a delayed
response in how the juices flow.


Contrary to this, Scott had grabbed Tom's bushy hair, made him look up into
his eyes, "Yeah, right, imbecile, like don't you notice where the tip of my
cock is, it's leaked through?"


"Oops!" Scott replies. "I better take care of that!"


All Scott could do is roll his eyes. Though, he couldn't deny, feeling Tom
strip his briefs down his legs, make him step out of him and caring more
about his tighty-whities, than making his shaft hard, "Never fails!"


"What?" Scott looks innocently up at his bud, the briefs stretched between
two hands.


"You. You're more concerned with getting every last microgram of cum, more
than what you can get out of the spigot!"


Sometimes, when the two buds had a friendly argument over this topic, Tom
would shoo Scott's hand away, taking care of the situation.


That included now, visibly making a statement, Tom tossing Scott's briefs
across the room, saying, "Now that you mention it!"


With a smile on his face, Tom lifts the tail of Scott's shirt out of the
way, planting himself in the mossy pubes.


"Having fun boys?"


"Oh shit, Dooz! Don't you know how to knock or something?" Scott scolds
him, placing both hands over himself, scooping up his junk.


Laughing, the jovial character he was, Dooz replies, "When you two start
paying rental space, then I'll think about it... but don't stop on my
account!"


Old news by now, Tom, still on his knees, says, "Oh, by the way bro, thanks
for keeping our little secret!"


Tom really wasn't angry, but Scott felt like he should stand up for
himself, "I didn't say anything. Dooz here, he guessed it all!"


"Your boyfriend's right," Dooz explains, opening the fridge, "I..."


It's then Dooz realizes a bottle is missing.


Frozen in place, Scott asks, "Uh, something wrong, Dooz?"


"One of the bottles of water...it's gone!"


"No problem, Dooz. I can reimburse you..." Reaching for his wallet, to make
the payment, Scott slaps his ass cheek. Then addressing Tom, "My wallet,
big mouth!"


For Tom, his bud's comment had double meaning. Though he would have liked
it to have been putting his lips around the soft 9-inches hanging between
his boyfriend's thighs, "I know being gay was supposed to a secret. I..."


Handing Scott his wallet, "Yeah, well it's water on the bridge now." Then,
turning to Dooz, whom is bent over, counting bottles, "Here's a buck. I
hope it covers it."


Tom jokes about the butt sticking out of the fridge, "While you've got your
pants down, you might as well go for it!"


Scott turns back to Tom, "Ewe! Tell me you're joking?"


Dooz, who finishes his tally, turns around to the two, "One of the bottles
is missing."


"I know," Scott replies. "Here's a buck," he forces it into the custodian's
hand.


It was on the tip of his tongue, Dooz wondering if he could trust the
two. Yet, in a strange way, at the beginning of the day, it's the
impression he got right away with Scott, leaving him alone in the back room
all day.


"Well, are you going to take it, Dooz, before my hand falls off?"


"Keep it," Dooz says, the 35-year old slamming the fridge shut.


Of course, faced with Scott's `all together', staring at him, Dooz couldn't
help his eyes from wandering, though tries through his words to keep off
topic, "Have a seat. We need to talk."


Tom, who could easily double as a comedian, jokes, "Would it be okay if
Scott sat on my face?"


Some churning started in his pants minutes ago, upon seeing Tom on his
knees, ready to eat Scott up, but now a new sensation got him
going. However, before explaining his way out of the bulge in his pants,
"Just sit?"


By this time, Scott had suited up, even though he could not find which
direction Tom had catapulted his briefs!


Sitting, it's Scott who questions, "Well, what's up, Dooz?"


Upon plopping his ass down in the sofa, Scott knew he was sitting on
something, pulling the object from a crevice in the cushions, "Oh, the
empty," he says of the half-crushed water receptacle.


"Oh," Dooz says, reaching for it, which is part of the reason for the
discussion, "the missing water bottle."


"I told you I'd pay for it, but you didn't..."


"I know," Dooz tosses the empty, like it was going through a basketball
hoop, perfect shot to the recycle bin.


"Two points!" Tom calls out.


Turning back to the boys on the sofa and with Scott's loins covered up,
it's then Dooz notices the wrinkles of Tom's stomach. He then gets a thirst
to explore the rest of the bare areas of Tom's bod.


But first things first, "What is said in this room, stays in this room, if
you catch my drift?"


All for anything, Tom says cheerfully, "You're secrets are safe with us!"


Not so comfortable as Tom, Scott says, "I'm not agreeing to anything,
without knowing what I'm getting myself into!"


Defining his statement, Scott folds arms across the middle, like protecting
himself.


Slapping his hand against his bro's arm, Tom says, "Lighten up, bro."


When Dooz met Tom in the hallway, after finding out where his last class
would be, he first told Tom about Scott's morning woes, the running up
against `the nun'.


Tom wondered if Scott was still alive!


Dooz getting serious, told Tom he was hiding Scott out in the back, back
room of the custodian's office.


Tom thought it an awfully nice thing for Dooz to do, which is why, when
they got within 10 feet of the office, Tom didn't mind it that Dooz put a
brotherly arm over his shoulder.


That conversation they had on the way over is why Tom is acting so relaxed,
confidant, "When do you get to the part when the three of us strip down and
get it on?"


Acting like an interrogator, Scott goes after the facts, "Did you happen to
tell Tom about, uh, what we talked about?"


Rather than Dooz explaining what he promised to keep secret, Tom pipes up,
"Like, what's the big deal, bro? I'm gay, you're gay and Dooz is gay. Can't
we just act like one, big, happy family?"


Dooz thinks it's hilarious, Scott asking, "Are you talking with your balls
or your brain, bro?"


"Um?" Tom rolls his eyes up to the top of his lids, like looking at his
brain, "Both?"


Laughing, Scott's death stare made Dooz dummy up, wipe the humor off his
face, "Look, to cut through all the red tape, I'm not out to get into
either of your pants, if you catch my drift?"


Someone catching his drift, was his favorite phrase, which catching his
drift, Tom says, "I'm so disappointed!"


Now, instead of Scott's arms folded across the underside of the pecs, Tom
takes on the pose.


"He's such a baby. What were you going to tell us, Dooz?"


Looking to Scott, Dooz says, "You, Scott, I know I can trust, but this
guy?" he switches over to Tom.


Based on some of the kinky things Tom has conned his bud into doing, Scott
says in a joking manner, "Oh, don't worry about Tom here...there's some
stuff we can do to him if he talks!"


Now that got Dooz going, big time, "Really?"


If Scott's eyes were on Dooz and not looking for Tom's reaction, he might
have picked up on his custodian-friend sitting up more alert, a look of
thirst and wanting, "No..."


Tom cuts Scott off, "Why not? I think it could be cool."


Suddenly, whereas Tom was the underdog, Dooz shows real interest, "It might
be at that!"


Forgetting about the conversation earlier, Scott springs himself up, out of
the cushy sofa, "Well, I've got to be going. Mom's gonna wonder where..."


"I told you bro, I covered for you. You're staying at my place tonight?"


"Oh," he freezes in a semi-squat, "right. I forgot," he plunges into the
sofa.


While half out of the sofa, Dooz did do a spot-check, to see if Scott still
had his bulge. A little, he thought!


Putting all else aside, like homework, the term paper, Tom says, "Well, we
going to do something?"


It's then they hear 2 knocks, short silence, then 1 more rap on the door.


"Oh shit!" Dooz jumps. "I forgot!"


Apparently he had, Scott and Tom, with looks of question on their faces.


"Forgot what?" Scott asks.


He hadn't even explained and here was part of that explanation knocking at
his door, Dooz saying as he walks to the door after another round of the
secret code, "You've got to swear, what you see here..."


"We've got you covered, Dooz," Tom assures.


Not so sure, but knowing Dooz took a big chance, sequestering him away for
the day, Scott goes along, "Right," seconding it.


Dooz, still unsure, having never told any student at the school, about what
goes on after hours, puts his hand on the door knob, but stands there,
pondering.


%


Copyright 2015 T. Chase McPhee


"AGaiNSt thE GRoiN" and developing segments of this story, may not be sold,
nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.