Date: Sun, 29 May 2005 09:33:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mark Wild <markwild082@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boys in Control, pt. 7

Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to
read materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This
story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys and
is for adult eyes only.  The acts are consensual and are a result of
their
love or lust for one another. This story is completely fiction,  and all
descriptions and names are also made up.  Any similarities are purely
coincidental.


I would love to hear from you, so negative as well as positive feedback
is always welcome! Please write: markwild082@yahoo.com



This is for my dad, Conner.  I love you, man!   Mark.



Boys in Control, pt. 7

Brothers and buddies



Parker was out in the garage when the yelling began.  He was bent over
his bike, oiling the chain.  "Matt!" his dad yelled, and "What!" his
brother yelled back, from upstairs.  The young jock sat back on his
calves, listening.  "I told you I wanted this mess cleaned UP!  ToDAY,
Matt!"  "Dammit, dad!  I'm watching KING KONG!"  Parker laughed, and his
dad said, "I'll King Kong YOU, Matthew Nicholls!  Now!  And watch your
mouth."  Parker got up and walked into the house.  His dad was standing
at the bottom of the stairs.  The livingroom was still in disarray.  He
saw Parker and said, "I can't even keep the house clean anymore.  The
place is always a mess..."  It wasn't.  Parker saw to that.  "Hey, dad,"
the jock said, "relax.  Let me see what I can do, huh?"  John Nicholls
snorted.  "Good luck.  It's obvious I can't talk to him..."

   Parker looked at his dad then walked upstairs.  He scratched himself
under his arm, where it itched.  He strolled into Matt's room and closed
the door behind him.  "Yo," he said, "doofus."  Matt was propped up
against the headboard of his bed, a couple of pillows under his back and
neck.  His arms were crossed in front of him, and he looked at his
brother and said, "WHAT?"  "Put in a tape, Matt, and hit 'record.'
That's what it's there for."  Matt hesitated, then got up and did as his
brother had said.  He looked at Parker and said, "Happy?" then went and
plopped himself back against his pillows.  Parker walked over and sat
down next to him.  "Now, Matt," he said, "you know you're my favorite
little brother, right?"  "Very funny, Park," Matt said, kicking at his
brother's hip.  Parker caught his foot and said, "Damn.  Didn't you sleep
last night or something?  How come you're so grumpy?"  "I slept just
fine, Parker," his brother said, pulling his foot away.  "Well, then,
listen up, bro.  You better go clean up your shit.  Cause if you don't
dad's gonna be riding your ass all night---and Bart's coming over,
right?"  "Yeah," Matt said,  "Around four."  "Well, then, dude.  You want
dad hanging around, or you want him to leave you guys alone?"  He lifted
his foot up, and wiggled it in his brother's face, grinning.  Matt
grabbed it and pushed it away and saw Parker's shorts flare open at the
leg.  "He better leave us alone," he said.  "Well, then," Parker
answered.  "Think ahead, A-watt.  Clean your shit up, get him off your
back, and he'll leave you and Bart by yourselves.  Damn, bro," he said,
"It ain't rocket science.

   Matt sulked, thinking that Parker maybe was right, but not wanting to
admit it.  Parker laughed, and crawled up and straddled his brother's
stomach, not trying too hard... to grab his hands and pin them.   Matt
bucked, and hooted, and they tumbled around on top of each other for a
few minutes till Parker, bigger than his bro, had him on his stomach,
laughing, his arm pulled up behind his back.  Parker leaned down,
bouncing on the small of Matthew's back.  "Yeah, bro, you're my bitch
now, man," he whispered, laughing.  "Fuck you," Matt panted.  Parker
reached down, and, holding Matt's arm, started to tickle him.  "Yeowww!"
Matt yelled, trying to twist his smaller, lighter body away, but Parker
just tightened his legs against Matt's sides, and the boy wasn't going
anywhere.  Matt was twisting and laughing, kind of squealing.  "STOP it,
Parker."  Parker leaned down.  "Wrong answer, bro."   He dug his fingers
into Matt's side again, making the boy howl.  He corkscrewed, but all his
brother's weight was on him now, and his shoulder socket was starting to
hurt.  "Okay, OKAY," Matt panted, "I give."

   Parker laughed, and rolled off his brother onto the bed.  They lay
there, breathing elevated, till Parker held his hand up.  Matt hesitated,
then high-fived him.  "Now you try that out on Bart, okay?"  "Yeah,
Park," Matt said.  "I'm gonna, now," then added, "Fuck, bro, you need a
shower or something, man.  You're really ripe, bro."  "Yeah, well, maybe
later, Matt.  I'm not, uh, entertaining today, like you."  Matt grinned
and Parker rolled off the bed.  "Now clean the friggin livingroom, okay?
And put my CD's back.  Then when you're done you can come out and help me
with the car."  From where he was lying on the bed Matt could see his
brother's shorts all bunched up.  Then Parker reached down and pulled at
the leg flaps and Matt watched his hand and said, "Yeah, okay."

   Downstairs his dad was standing at the kitchen counter, making a
sandwich.  "Well?" he said.  Parker walked over and grabbed a slice of
chicken his dad had cut off.  "He'll be down in a minute," he said, his
mouth full.  Standing next to his son, John Nicholls was reminded just
how much Parker had grown this last year.  Parker was always a kid, in
his mind, and now standing next to him, he saw again that he was as tall,
and heavier, than he was, now.  He was always so damn sure of himself,
too, besides being so physically imposing.  "So what'd you do?" he
asked.  "What'd you say that got through to him?"  Parker laughed.  "Not
much."  He pretended to spar with his dad a few, punching him in the
shoulder.  "I just slapped him around a little, you know?"  John looked
at his son, than back to the counter.  "Okay," he said, "whatever."  "So
look," Parker said.  "He's gonna clean up some, and I'm gonna finish
oiling my bike then we're gonna wash the car."  "You sure?  You don't
have to, you know."  "No problem, dad.  That way you can relax some and
Matt and I'll spend some time together."  "Well," his dad said.  "I was
thinking about going out to a movie later, maybe."  Parker laughed.
"Another one of those foreign films, dad?"  "Yeah," John said.  "You can
tag along, if you want."  "Nope.  Got homework tonight.  But you should
go, dad.  Get you out of the house for a change, you know?"  "Yeah," his
dad said, slicing off another portion of the breast.  "I guess."  "No,
dad," Parker said.  "Really.  You should get out more, man.  Matt and I
are old enough to take care of ourselves now, you know?  I mean," he
added, grinning, "for a couple hours, anyway."

   He heard Matt trudging down the stairs and went back out to the
garage.  His bike was upside down, resting on the seat and handlebar.
Parker squatted down, methodically applying a drop of lube to every
fourth or fifth link of the chain, turning the pedal slowly, checking the
tautness.  He drifted off a second, watching the wheel turn as every link
advanced singly onto the waiting notch.  He looked up, down the driveway,
across the street, into the weeks ahead, past the Mountaineers game, then
scratched himself and went back to the chain.  He half heard Matt banging
around in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.  "Parker!" he yelled out
the window.  "What?"  "You have any dirty plates or glasses in your
room?"  "No!" Parker yelled back.  "Hey dad!" he heard his brother yell.
"What?"  "You have any dirty dishes in your room?"  He heard Matt mumble
something, and the dishwasher start.  He banged out five minutes later
with a plastic bag full of trash.  He watched his older brother a second,
bent over his bike, fiddling with the lines on his hand brakes.  "I
emptied all the wastebaskets upstairs," he said.  Parker looked up.
"Good."  Matt rolled his eyes.  "Dad's going out," Parker said.  "YEAH?"
His eyes lit up.  "Yup," Parker grinned.  "To a movie."  "Fuckin eh,"
Matt said.  Parker laughed.  "Make my day," he answered.  Matt laughed
too, dropping the garbage bag into the trash can. It was something they
said back and forth to each other.

   When he returned ten minutes later Parker already had the hose out,
and the bucket, and the brush.  He had changed into a pair of running
shorts and some old sneakers.  He watched as Parker filled the bucket,
then wet the car down top to bottom.  Little by little they started
getting splashed, and their tshirts wet.  At one point Parker stood near
the hood and aimed the hose right at Matt.  "No way, bro,"  his brother
warned him.  "No way?"  Parker grinned.  "Okay."  He aimed the hose onto
the tires and hubcaps, splashing Matt's legs, but that was all.  "You can
do the tires," Parker said.  "Damn, bro, why I always gotta do the
tires?"  Parker laughed.  "Cause you're my bitch, bro!  AND"---he waved
it around---"I still got the hose."

   They went to work then, for a little while, Matt scrubbing the rims,
looking up every so often and seeing Parker stretched up washing the top,
at his really powerful legs.  He stood, and poked his brother to hand him
the hose.  "What?"  "I gotta check the tires," Matt said.  He rinsed them
well, then squirted water at Parker's feet.  Parker jumped.  "No way,
bro," he warned.  "Ha!  Who's my bitch now, hey Parker?"  Matt giggled,
squirting.  Parker jumped again.  "No way?"  Matt said.  "Okay."  He
grabbed the rag and started on the doors, and Parker moved back to the
bumper.  He was working on the mudflap when Parker asked him for the hose
again.  When the trunk was all rinsed down he smiled at Matt and stepped
back like a gunslinger, aiming the nozzle right at him.  Matt scrambled
up straight.  "No way, bro."  Parker grinned back.  "Not this time,
Matt."

   He hit the nozzle and the jet of water caught Matt dead in the chest,
soaking him instantly, making him yelp.  He tried to dodge, screaming
"Hey!  No fair!" but the more he squirmed the wetter he got.  Parker was
laughing, and cut off the spray.  Matt looked at his brother, then
stripped off his tshirt and twisted it lengthwise.  He snapped it in the
air like a towel, trying not to grin, and took a Frankenstein step
forward.  Parker played scared, and took a step back.  Matt snapped the
tshirt at him, then yelled and lunged forward, popping Parker in the
stomach.  Matt snapped hard, and hit Parker square.  Unprepared, it
stung, and the older boy fell back a step, surprised.  "Bitch," Matt
said, challengingly.

   Parker dipped forward and grabbed it, though, jerking Matt in,
wrapping his arm around his neck.  He wiggled his fingers on Matthew's
stomach, making him shriek.  He tried to pry himself loose, but Parker
had him choked but good.  Ticklish as he was he bucked and yelled,
pounding Parker's back and sides, till he weakened and Parker eased up.
"There," the older jock said.  "Now you won't stink so bad when Bart gets
here."  They pushed and jostled awhile before getting back to the car.
Their dad watched them from the kitchen window, horsing around, two kids
with more energy than he'd ever see again.  Mostly he looked at Matt.  He
was kind of used to Parker, now, but Matt was really shooting up, too.
He'd be in a higher weight class for sure, once wrestling season
started.  Well, he thought, at least there weren't many girls hanging
around, yet.  God only knows what he was picking up from his brother.
Stray thoughts of his two sons making out, "studying" after school with
girls they knew and thinking about their hands moving down, in his sons'
crotches, made him feel suddenly funny.  He moved away from the window,
embarrassed, and went upstairs to shower.


   An hour later their dad had left and Matt was upstairs cleaning up.
Parker was sprawled on the couch reading his chapter on South American
geography when the doorbell rang.  He looked at the clock and got up,
laying the book over the back of the couch.  "I'll get it!" he yelled,
moving to the door.  He'd been waiting to chat up his brother's friend,
to see if he was a fag.  He pulled the door open and "Oh.---Hey Tyler,"
he said.

   His friend stood in the doorway wearing a red tshirt and some blue
running shorts.  His bike was behind him.  "Hey Parker," he said.  "What
up, dude?"  "Nothing, man," Tyler said, shifting his backpack.  "I was
just riding through your neighborhood and thought I'd drop by, see what
you were up to."  "Nothing, man.  Just reading geography."  "Yeah," Tyler
said, sloughing off his pack.  "I was at the library, doing the same."
"The library, man?"  "Yeah," Tyler said.  "Quieter than at home."  "WHO'S
THERE?"  Matt yelled behind them from the upstairs landing.  "IS THAT
BART?"  Parker half turned.  "NO," he said, his voice carrying.  "It's
Tyler."  Matt said "Oh," and walked back into his room.  Parker turned
back to the door.  "You coming in or what?"  "Sure," Tyler said.  "Your
dad home?"  "Nope," Parker said, closing the door.  "He went to a
movie."  "Fuckin eh, man," Tyler said.  Then, lower, "Parker, man, I got
some weed.  You wanna?"  The jock looked at his friend a second, then
broke out into a smile.  "I knew you were good for something, buddy."
"Very funny, Park."  Tyler walked over and threw his pack on the couch,
sat down and pulled open one of the zippers.  He fumbled inside and
pulled out a cigarette case.  "Whoa, man," Parker laughed.  "Hold up on
that, bro."  "What," Tyler said.  "Your brother?"  "Yeah," Parker said.
"But it's cool.  He's got a friend coming over soon, probably gonna hang
out and watch a movie in his room or something.  Let's wait till they get
settled, then we go outside and fire it up."  "Fuck," Tyler said, "okay."

   Parker laughed.  "You jonesin', buddy?  You been smoking too much
lately, man.  I been noticing.  Hanging out too much with Alex Fulton,
dude."  Parker plopped down on the couch next to his buddy.  "He's a
loser, man."  "Naw, Parker, he's okay," Tyler said, defensively.
"Okay?"  Parker reached out and grabbed Tyler's leg just above the knee.
"He's a stoner, man.  Not to mention the other shit he's into."  Tyler
looked at Parker's hand, his leg tensed up.  "Yeah, man," he agreed, "but
it's always good to have that connection, you know?"  It was like Parker
was plugged in, and his current went into Tyler through his leg.
"Besides," he said, "that X I got us last month kicked ass, didn't it?"
Parker grinned.  "Well, yeah, I gotta admit that it did, bro.  Those ho's
was squealing, huh?"  He laughed.  "I mean," he said, releasing Tyler's
leg and tapping his knee, "what I remember of it, haha...."  "Yeah, bro,"
Tyler said, leaning back, "but your dad sure as fuck wasn't too happy
about it when I finally got you home..."  "Yeah, that's true," Parker
admitted.  "But fuck him, man.  I'm outa here as soon as I graduate
anyway.  Out of THIS fucking shithole of a town, huh buddy?"  "Fuck,"
Tyler said, "I hear that."

   Parker reached back and grabbed his geography bood and snapped it
shut.  "Look, man, I was just finishing up and then I was gonna go clean
up.  You can hang out for ten minutes, huh?"  "Sure," Tyler said.  "You
ARE, uh, pretty grungy right now, bro, you know that?"  "Yeah," the jock
answered, "I guess I am."  Tyler reached out, punched on his buddy's
chin.  "Shit, dude," he grinned, "you need to shave, too."  Parker felt
his jaw and smiled.  "Naw, bro, it's just right, man.  See I might have
to go out later and find me some mall pussy, you know?  They like the
stubble, man, you know? right where the leg and puss meet?  Makes 'em
wet."  Tyler flushed and looked at his friend skeptically, but kind of
respectful, too.  "Yeah," he said.  "Right."  Parker slapped his and then
stood up.  "Come on, bro," he said, and the doorbell rang again.

   Parker walked to the door and opened it; Bart Corvino stood scratching
his elbow, hitching his backpack around.  "Hey," he said, looking up and
seeing Parker.  "Is, uh, Matt here?"  "Yep," the jock answered and
stepped aside so Bart could enter.  Bart hesitated just a second,
intimidated by the fact of Parker's size.  "Matt!" he yelled.  "WHAT?"
from upstairs.  "Bart's here!"

   The fourteen year old wore skaterz duds, too, like Matt did, but he
was a little out of his element in front of the two older jocks, who were
either cool, or jerks, depending, just by being older.  He didn't know
Tyler, and he'd only met Parker a few times before.  He knew Parker was
solid, though, and blond, and that he played football, and that Matt
either loved him or hated him, depending on HIS mood.  "This is my friend
Tyler," Parker said, checking the boy out.  "Tyler, this is Matt's friend
Bartholomew."  "Bart," the boy corrected.  "Yo," Tyler said.
"Bartholomew," Parker repeated.  Matt came out to the railing again.
"Damn, dude, where you been?"  "Damn, dude!  I had to wait for the bus,
Matt."  Bart was an Italian kid, curly black hair and deep brown eyes,
and Parker saw that Matt was right:  Bart DID look a little heavier than
his brother.  "Well, come on up, bro,"  Matt said, still from the
railing.  "I'm just finishing watching KING KONG."  "Okay,"  Bart said,
starting for the stairs.  Then he stopped and turned back to the older
two.  "You play on the football team, too?" he asked Tyler.  "Yup."
"Cool," the boy nodded.  "Matt and I are going to the game Friday.  I
hope you guys win."  He talked to them both, but mostly looked at
Parker.  "Thanks, bro," Parker said.  "Yeah, bro.  Thanks," Tyler said.
"So, uh, what's your jerseys?"  "43," Parker said.  "23," Tyler said.
"Cool."  God, Parker thought, what a fag.

   "Come ON, bro," Matt insisted and Bart looked and shrugged.
"Laterz."  He went upstairs memorizing "Forty-three, forty-three" and he
and Matt went into his room.  Tyler looked at his blond jock friend.
"Laterz?"  Parker laughed and headed for the stairs himself.  He paused
berfore going up, looking back at Tyler who was still by the couch.  "You
coming?"

   Parker's shit was already off by the time he hit his bedroom.  Roaring
ape sounds came from Matt's room, drowning out any other sounds or
conversation.  He threw the shirt on his bed, and rooted in the dresser
for some clean running shorts.  "You know where everything is," Parker
said.  "Gimme five, ten minutes to clean up and then we'll go out back
and fire that baby UP."  Parker kicked off his trainers, and though Tyler
had told himself over and over at the library, pinprickly, restless, that
there was nothing fucking wrong with just going over and hanging OUT, for
Chrissakes, he couldn't help himself from looking at Parker's strong legs
when he squatted to stuff his socks into his shoes.  When he stood up
Tyler watched the muscles roll on the back of his thighs, as he sat on
his buddy's bed.  It all of a sudden didn't matter, now, what his head
was telling his head.  The truth was lodged in his stomach, deep, and he
had to hold himself real quiet and still, cause it was beginning to gnaw,
and he couldn't let it know he was here.  He sat there real quiet, and
tried to think of his girl.

   He heard Parker move down the hall and the sound of the shower
starting.  He heard a thud from Matt's room across the hall.  He stood up
and had to arrange his dick.  He walked over to where Parker's sneakers
lay on the floor, and got down in front of them, looking at the door.
They were old and scuffed and he reached out and touched them, looked at
them and just touched.  He started remembering that porno flick he'd seen
at Alex's a couple months ago, and his breathing went shallow.  His
stomach knew he was there, then, and started curling up inside, like it
was making a fist.  Across the hall he heard Matt whooping as King Kong
finally fell.  He picked up Parker's sneaker and held it by the heel.  He
got on his knees, holding his head down like Brad had done to that dude
in the movie.  He aimed, and closed his eyes, and slapped the shoe hard
down against his dick, and he hit it full on, and it knocked his breath
loose, and stung, and curled himself forward....

   He was lying on Parker's bed reading a Sports Illustrated when his
friend came back.  "Hey Park," he said, rolling himself up and showing
his bud the article he was reading about the Bears.  "Check it out.
Brian Urlacher's the shit, man."  Parker was shirtless, toweling his hair
off.  "Brian Urlacher," he said, walking over to his dresser, "can suck
my dick."  He'd shaved.  He grabbed a pair of socks and went over to sit
at his desk.  "Yeah, right," Tyler said.  "Dude," he added, "he's fucking
Paris Hilton."  Parker had his foot up on the chair, pulling on one  of
his socks.  He looked over at his bud.  "Don't worry, bro.  You know I
got a big one.  There'll be enough left over for ya"---he grinned---"I
promise."  "Fuck you," Tyler said, after a second.  "Jeezus, Ty, chill
out man, huh?  I'm just fucking with ya, man.  You know that, right?"
Tyler looked over at his buddy, and part of him knew he wasn't just
fucking with him at all.  "We're still buds, right?  Now that we got
everything straightened out."  He grinned or smirked at his friend:
Tyler couldn't tell which.  But his stomach knew, as it loosened and
flushed:  there WOULD be enough left over...

   Parker picked up his trainer and looked inside it a second before
slipping it on.  Tyler was silent.  Parker put on his other shoe and
stood up.  "You got a lighter, Ty?  Let's go fire that baby up."

   Out in the hallway they heard music from Matt's room.  It was the
Strokes and Parker said, "Hold up, bro."  Matt's door was slightly ajar,
but Parker knocked anyway.  After a second Matt yelled, "Who is it?"
Parker looked at Tyler and laughed.  "Fuck, Matt, who the fuck d'ya think
it is?  Dick Tracey."  Matt opened the door halfway, and Parker could see
Bart sitting on the floor, messing with the PlayStation.  The kid looked
over at him and smiled, wide.  Matt looked at his brother and at Tyler in
the hall behind him and said, "What?"  "Everything okay, bro?" Parker
asked, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially, but Matt pretended not to
notice.  "Just fine, bro," he said, impatiently.  "Well, uh, okay, then.
Tyler and I are going outside.  We'll be in the backyard."  Tyler started
off downstairs and Matt said, "Alright."  Parker turned to go and Matt
said, "So I can have some privacy now, DICK?"  Parker turned back and
looked at his brother.  He raised his hands, like whatever.  "All fuckin
night, bro," he said.  He followed Tyler down and Matthew watched him
go.  Not this time, bro, he thought.  "Jesus," Tyler said, when they were
in the kitchen, "what's eating HIM?"  "Fuck if I know," Parker said.
"He's had a bug up his ass all day."  Tyler sniggered.  "Not funny, bro.
He's about to get that smart-ass waxed if he doesn't watch it."  "Yeah,"
Tyler said, opening the refrigerator.  "I'm glad I killed mine.  You want
something to drink?"

   Five minutes later, though, the young jock was in an altogether better
mood.  It'd been a few weeks since he'd last been high, and the third hit
off Alex's weed had sent him humming.  The backyard was all blue and
sunny, a perfect autumn afternoon.  They talked about the team, about
pussy, about bands they liked.  They sat on the back steps, Tyler hunched
over, Parker sprawled out next to him, his legs spread out over the
grass.  The sun hit them full on, making them squint, and from his
vantage point Tyler could see the smooth gold of Parker's chest.  His pit
hair curled, just barely exposed, and Parker had to nudge him when he
passed the joint back, and Tyler flushed, knowing he'd been caught out.
Parker just looked at him, though.  Then he leaned back and brought his
left hand up to his nipple, squeezing it, tugging it lightly.  "Jeezus,
Parker, what the fuck, man."  Parker looked over at his buddy and
grinned.  Hiking himself up he twisted toward his friend, putting his
hand on Tyler's knee.  "Dude," he said, "check this out."

   He took the joint from his buddy, and ran his hand through his hair.
"I was talking to this chick online the other day.  BIG tits," he said,
taking a hit.  "Tight pussy, too."  He looked at his buddy, exhaled and
laughed.  "At least that's what she SAID."  Tyler took the joint.  "Asked
me if I had my nipple pierced."  Tyler exhaled.  "No shit?"  "Yeah.  She
said she used to have this old boyfriend who had his nipple pierced, and
she used to tug on it when she was giving him head, and it made him all
hot and shit."  "Damn, bro," Tyler said.  "Yeah, man.  Ain't that some
shit?"  Parker laughed, shaking his head.  "Gimme a shotgun, huh?"
Parker pushed Ty's legs aside and scooted closer on the step.

   This close to his buddy again and Tyler was unnerved.  He'd been
banging that chick in the lockerroom, in the movie, when he got caught.
He sucked in a deep breath and watched Parker exhale.  Then putting the
joint in his mouth he bent down, close to Parker's face, the tip of the
joint at his lips.  He flushed inside, going weak, knowing he shouldn't.
He blew, watching Parker suck the thin jet of smoke into his lungs, eyes
half closed, swaying a little.

   Over Parker's shoulder Tyler saw some sunlight cutting through a patch
of bright air, and shadows starting to slant against the back of the
garage.  The video, "Gang Bang Cheerleaders," had started innocently
enough.  It was all about horny cheerleaders and the football jocks they
were fucking.  Alex was so zoned out he had fallen asleep, and Tyler lay
on the floor too wasted to even be horny, just watching the fucking.
There was even a plot, too.  Someone was feeding secret play information
to outside teams, cutting into their leads, making them scramble, and the
boys were pissed.  It was Brad the quarterback who had finally figured
things out, slipping away from the orgy in the lockerroom where the hot
bitch cheerleaders were blowing and fucking the shit out of the team, and
caught the Runt fucking the head cheerleader wild, who was the
quarterback's girlfriend, but still a slut.  Brad was really pissed,
pulling the Runt off his girl and making him kneel on the floor while he
shoved his big cock deep up in her wet snatch and made her moan and play
with her own titties.  Asking her how it felt, having a man's cock up her
pussy, still in his jock and shoulderpads, and not some little runt
dick.  The kid kept trying to get away, but Brad kept holding him down,
making him watch the nasty fuck till he pulled out and shot the money all
over the muff.

   Something he'd never have admitted he thought about surged through
Tyler when Brad grabbed the Runt's head and told him it was "time to pay
the piper, asshole," and forced the traitor's head down between his
girl's legs and made him lick his juice off her still hungry pussy, and
then shot another load on his face for good measure, leaving him slumped
against the lockers, no longer a threat, while they went off to rejoin
the team, and celebrate their victory and fuck.  Tyler's mouth was dry,
he was stoned and his crotch was damp.  He'd looked down at his stomach,
but it was like he was dizzy, even though he was lying on the floor.  It
was 1:15 AM.  He'd been getting stoned and watching a porno, and now the
alien baby was inside.

   "So whaddya think, bro?  Should I?"  "Huh?" Tyler looked at his
friend, stoned, distracted.  "Get my nipple pierced."  Parker was
smiling.  "Or you like 'em the way they are?"  "Man!" he said, putting
his palm flat against Parker's chest and pushing him away, "What kind of
of fucking question is that?"  Parker reached out and slapped Tyler's
face a few times, buddy-like.  "Chill out, bro.  Damn, I'm just trying to
figure out, what it is you faggots like."  That did it.  Tyler scrambled
to his feet, red as hell, embarrassed.  "I'm leaving, man.  I don't need
this shit.  Not from you, not from anybody, man."  Parker looked up
carelessly.  This was just like he'd acted the last time.  "Well, okay
then, bro.  Thanks for getting me high."  He flexed his wrists and his
fingers.  When Tyler just stood there he looked at him and said, "Come
here, bro."  He patted the step next to him.  Tyler hated himself, but
the baby moved and he took a step down, then sat down next to Parker
again.

   Parker threw an arm over his shoulder and took what was left of the
joint from Tyler's hand.  He held it to his mouth till the boy took a
hit, then took another himself, flicking the roach into the grass when he
was finished.  Yeah, this was gonna be more fun than geography.  "Good
weed, bro," he said, his arm still draped over Tyler's shoulder.  Tyler
felt Parker's weight on him, s oclose now he could smell the jock's clean
and golden skin.  A last thin line of smoke rose up from the joint before
the grass extinguished it, and afternoon shadows crept across the lawn.
He stared, and Time detached from Seneca Falls.  At football camp that
summer the cheerleaders had voted Parker best legs and most aggressive,
nudging each other, "on and off the field."  Now he looked at those legs
and his mind began to spin, looked at those legs he'd seen for years and
years, beefy, now, the scuffed knee, the...  Parker stood up.  His crotch
was inches from Tyler's face.  "Come on, bro," he said, "Let's go
inside."  His face was only inches from Parker's crotch.  He looked at
it, looked all over it, then raised his eyes to those of his friend.  It
was like he was already bruised.  "I said, let's go."

   In Matt's room the two young wrestlers were lying on the floor,
talking about their rotten families.  Bart was ragging on his older
brother, Matt was mostly bitching about his dad.  "I mean, he's such a
friggin' loser, Matt.  French Club, Debate Club..."  He rolled his eyes.
Matt rolled his eyes, too.  "Shit, bro, maybe he wants to go to Paris,"
he said, and giggled, and Bart looked over a second then giggled, too.
He rolled over onto his stomach, propping his chin on his fists.  "At
least you got a COOL brother."  Matt hesitated a second, then
admitted, "Yeah, he's alright, usually."  Bart looked over at his
teammate.  "Sorry your dad's an ass, though."  "Yeah, well, it's not your
fault, bro.  But some day..."  His voice trailed off, then he looked back
and said, "I mean he's always riding me to pick up after myself and
stuff, clean my room, take out the garbage...  He never gets on Parker
for that shit."  Bart said, "Yeah, well, I thought you told me Parker was
always real neat and stuff."  Matt looked over at his friend, then said,
"That too," flatly.  "And you know what I think?  I think it's because
Parker's already fuckin' bigger than he is, you know?  He'd be an ass, to
piss him off."  "Yeah, Matt," Bart said.  "Your brother's like solid,
man."  Bart wasn't looking at him, but something in his voice pissed Matt
off.  He looked over at his teammate and said, "That's alright, bro.
Someday I'm gonna be just as big as Parker is, man, and then they can
both kiss my ass."  Bart laughed and Matt looked at him, prickling.
"What's so funny, huh?"  Bart looked back. "Dude, dream on.  You're never
gonna be Parker's size.  You take more after your mom."  Matt bristled,
and reached over and punched Bart in the shoulder.  "Hey!" the boy said.
"Ouch!"  "Watch your mouth, man.  My mom's got nothing to do with this."
Bart rubbed his shoulder.  "Damn, Matt, I was just saying..."

   In Parker's room the two Vikings stood and looked at each other, till
Parker walked up to his friend and said, "That was nice of you getting me
high, man.  Thanks."  "Sure, man.  You know we're bud---"  He shut up
when Parker slapped him, his hand jerking up to feel his cheek.  "Guess
you thought if you got me high I might let you have some, huh?"  He
slapped him again, and in both their bodies the urges started.  "Look at
me, Ty," Parker said.  "Just out of the shower and sweating already."
Tyler looked.  He couldn't help himself.  "Look at you, Ty," Parker
said.  "You're getting a boner, bro."  Tyler didn't have to look.  He
stood there and took it and blushed.  Parker pointed with his head.  "My
gymbag's in the closet, bro.  Why don't you go get it for me, huh?"
Tyler's stomach lurched, but still he hesitated.  "It's been all zipped
up since after practice yesterday."  He watched Tyler's eyes move to his
closet.  "I bet it smells worse than my locker did."  Tyler's mouth was
dry, but it wasn't the weed anymore.  Still, he... "Tyler." He looked at
his friend.  "What, Parker?"  Parker smirked.  "I won't tell ANYone,
bro."

   It was like a boom panned down from the ceiling, following his steps
as he walked to the closet.  The gymbag was on the floor, under the
shirts and jackets, next to Parker's boots.  Tyler's pulse was elevated,
and part of him felt like throwing up, but even as he picked it up his
nostrils flared involuntarily, giving him away.  When he turned back
Parker was sitting on his bed, what was left of his summer tan lit by the
late sun pouring through the window.  He spread his legs and patted the
space between them.  "Bring it here, man."  Tyler walked slowly, but
there wasn't anything fighting in his face anymore.  It was, in fact,
pretty blank.  He handed Parker his bag and the jock wedged it snug
between his legs.  Tyler swallowed.  Parker just looked at him and then
at the floor.  Tyler got on his knees...

   Bart never got the chance to finish his sentence.  Matt got up on his
knees and half threw himself at his buddy and in a couple minutes they
were tussling on the floor, goofing off, wrestling, legs and shoulders
twisting.  Like Matt said, Bart outweighed him, but Matt was strong for
his age, and determined.  His coach saw it clearer, maybe, but that was
his job.  Matt LOVED to wrestle, and if he kept his focus he was gonna be
a terror.  But talk is free.  On the mat it's one on one, and now it was
Bart who was dodging the younger Nicholls' moves.  "Take it back, man,"
he said, grabbing Bart behind the knees and around his neck, pulling him
into a crab and trying to flip him.  Bart's lower back hit the rug and
his arm shot out and wrapped up behind Matt's neck, and he kicked out
with his other leg, pulling him over,  panting, both of them rolling
around.  Bart pulled, and Matt's tshirt rode up over his face, cutting
off his vision, hampering his arms a couple seconds, long enough for Bart
to roll away, and get up, and wait.  Matt pulled the fucking shirt OFF.
"Nice, man," he said.  "Fucking illegal, that was."  "I'm trembling,
bro," Bart panted.  "I'm gonna piss myself I'm so scared."  But he could
see Matt's chest heaving and the hair that fell down on his forehead.
"Yeah, bro," Matt said.  "Fuckin right you're gonna."

   He threw his shirt at Bart's face and by the time Bart dodged it Matt
had lunged forward and caught his legs under the knees, pulling him
forward and twisting up so Bart lost his balance over his back, and went
tumbling onto the floor.  His shoulder hit first, and he ooomphed,
feeling it jar.  Matt swivelled up and around, threw himself onto Bart's
backside, moving forward, alert as hell, in tandem with Bart's twisting,
till his forearms were up under Bart's pits, and he moved in for the
clutch.  Fuck, this was the part he loved:  when his tool started to wake
up and his opponent was grunting under him.  He leaned back, and pulled
up, bending his teammate's back up good, Bart's arms flailing out
uselessly.  "Yeow!..." he sputtered.  "Fuck, Matt.  That hurts, man!
Knock it off."  "Take it back, man."  Bart tried to punch at his buddy,
but only hit air.  Matt scooted down, resting his butt in the small of
the heavier boy's back, and pulled up some more.  "Yeow!!  Okay, Matt, I
give, okay?"  Matt lifted up, and bounced down on his buddy again.  "You
sure, Bart?  You sure you give?"  "Ummpff... Yeah, Matt.  I fucking GIVE,
man.  Now fucking let me up, man.  It HURTS."  Matt let go of him and
Bart slumped down on the floor, breathing hard.  "Fucking right,
Corvino.  I AM gonna be as big as Parker, man.  If I have to fucking take
VITAMINS..."

   Bart was still panting, but he wasn't pulling away anymore, either.
He rested his face on his forearm, and his back went up and down as he
breathed.  The room got oddly quiet a second, like a door getting ready
to open.  Matt bounced again on his buddy's back.  Bart grunted and Matt
brought one of his feet around, watching it cover the ninth grader's
face.  Bart half opened his eyes and saw Matt looking at him, his face a
blank.  He blushed, and his butt lifted up, hesitantly.  "This is for
yesterday, asshole," Matt bounced.  Beneath him Bart began to sniff.

   Parker was on cloud nine.  Little by little he was breaking Tyler
down.  He couldn't even blame him for not wanting to be a fag, not that
he was talking much now, with Parker's rank sock stuffed in his mouth.
He'd knelt before the tougher jock and watched him tug at the zipper.
His mind kept flashing inside the bag, dark and damp like the baby
inside.   He'd felt himself sinking, watching Parker's hand stop, afraid
he was just gonna tease him. He'd felt humiliated, but he knew the rule.
Parker'd explained it.  He had to ask.  He felt like he was going to cry,
but held it back.  He'd looked at Parker's hand, the hand he used to make
his fist.  Was this what it was gonna be like the rest of the schoolyear,
sitting in the library, not being able to think?  His lower lip
trembled.  "Parker, please, man?  Let me sniff your stuff?"   Parker had
tugged the zipper a hair, watching Tyler's eyes.  "Fuck, bro.  You
sure?"  He'd scratched his thigh.  "I mean, dude, I know we're buzzed,
but that sure sounds... faggy to me, man..."  "No, Park," the boy had
said, just like the last time.  "I'm not---I don't know about fags,
man."  Parker pulled the zipper all the way open, looking at the
trembling lip.  "No, bro?"  "No... Park," the boy had said, as the bag
had eased toward him.  Parker had put his hand around his old buddy's
neck.  "Well, shit, that's okay, Ty," he said, guiding the jock's head
forward and down... "You can learn."

   Matt was on cloud nine as well.  He wanted to jump up and scream and
hit something, but no fucking WAY was he getting up NOW.  He was so
fucking psyched... he had his first fag, he was just SURE of it.  He'd
rolled his friend over onto his back, and moved up, squatting on Bart's
chest, his thighs on either side of the other boy's face.  "Look at you,
man.  You are so fucking pinned..."  "Fuck you," Bart panted.  "You don't
wrestle fair, Matt."  Matt narrowed his eyes then leaned down and slapped
him, but not, he thought,  very hard.  "Fair?  Fuck, bro, I WON, man."
He grabbed one of Bart's arms, pulled it over his head and leaned over
him.  "I been winning a lot lately, huh, Bart?  Like, the last four
times, right?  I'd be thinking about my place on the squad, huh? if I was
you?"  Bart looked up into his buddy's face and saw the look he saw at
meets, when you couldn't even talk to Matt, till he came back... What was
worse, the way Matt was leaning over him, he could smell him, and up this
close it was distracting.  It was like the air was warmer, around them.

   Matt didn't have much pit hair yet, but what he had was wet.  Bart
turned his head, away from it.  Matt reached down and grabbed his chin,
pulling him back.  "Where you going, bro?"  Bart looked up at him.  "You
pissed me off, bro.  You made me get all hot and sweaty just after I took
a shower and stuff."  Matt bounced on his chest.  "I think that means you
owe me, man."  "Fuck, man, I don't owe you, m---"  Matt shook his chin,
shutting him up.  They heard a noise from Parker's room and Bart's eyes
darted that way.  "I bet if it was Parker sitting here on top of you like
this you wouldn't be bitching about paying up."  Matt felt his friend
stiffen underneath him and kept a cold face like his brother had told
him, but his head was dancing inside.  Fuckin eh, fuckin eh, he had his
first FAG!!   "Yeah, Bart.  Except he'd probably be pretty pissed right
about now about you talking back and all."  Matt paused.  "Even if he
does think you're cool."  The word hung in the air like the smell of
their bodies, and Matt waited... for his words to sink in.  "He does
not," Bart finally said.  "Wrong, bro," Matt said.  "He even likes your
name, dude, which makes like two people, then, besides your mom, haha."
"He's always making fun of me," Bart said, stubbornly.  "Especially my
name."  "Dude," Matt said, "he's just joshing with ya.  That's why he'd
be pissed, man, cause a dude he liked wouldn't pay up."  He bounced on
his buddy's chest for emphasis.

   "Jeezus, Matt, wouldja STOP that?  You're fucking crushing me, man."
He brought his free arm up to push Matt off him, but Matt grabbed it and
secured it, too.  "Shut up, Bart," he said, starting to lose his
patience.  "Just be glad it AIN'T Parker on top of you, man.  He weighs
a LOT more, than I do."  And in spite of his awkward position, Bart began
to gloat.  "See, bro?  See what I'm sayin'?  Even you know, Parker's
bigger, man.  He's always gonna be b---"  Matt's knee shot up, chinning
him hard, and Bart's teeth clacked as his head snapped back.  Stunned,
the boy lay there a second, panting, trying to move his jaw and afraid to
struggle.  Matt leaned down and over him, his face just inches from his
pal's.  "Shut up, bitch," he said, proud that the word hadn't stuck in
his throat.  "I'm tired of arguing with ya.  You got my armpits all
sweaty, bro, and you're gonna clean em up."

   The words hung in the air, and Bart's eyes widened.  "I ain't doing
that, man," he said.  "That's fag stuff."  "Dude," Matt said, leaning
still closer to his buddy's face, "it's only fag stuff if you're a
fag.----Parker HATES fags, man, and... I do too, bro.  You just gotta pay
off this little debt and then we'll be even, man, then I can let you
up."  Furtively, Bart looked up into the hollow of his friend's damp pit
and Matt's heart started to race.  And always keep your eyes on their
eyes, bro, Park had said.  Wherever they look, that's their weak spot.
Bart was even smoother than Matt so far, and, except for his rich dark
hair, didn't even have much of a bush, yet.  Leaning over him Matt felt
his tool start to pulse, and out of nowhere in a kind of secret
conjunction, he knew exactly what to say.  "Parker's a lot more smellier
than me, bro, and you'd pay HIM back, wouldn't ya?"

   Bart looked at his buddy.  He remembered Parker working out that time,
ignoring them while they assembled their kites.  Bigger than he was,
bigger than Matt... He was sweating, his hair wet on his forehead.  They
heard another noise across the hall.  He stammered, "A-and then you'll
let me up?"  "Yeah, bro," Matt said.  "Then we'll be even, man.  I mean,
Bart ol' buddy, I just showered like an hour ago, man.  How bad can they
be?"  What confused his friend was that it wasn't, you know, THAY bad at
all.  He'd been smelling Matt since he'd been pinned, and he'd been
fumbling a lot lately when they wrestled, and it was no worse than the
lockerroom, even after practice, and he was used to THAT.  And no worse
than some of his opponents on the squad or at meets, who had really
strong b.o.  He swallowed.  "Just this once, Matt..."  Matt inched down
on his elbow and his hollow dipped closer to his teammate's mouth.
"Yeah, bro, then we'll be even, man..."  Bart closed his eyes and let his
tongue flutter up, and Matt felt a shudder go through his body like when
a wrestler really gives, and his own dick started to bone.  FUCK but he
felt like slapping something all OVER again.  He inched down further and
Bart took a deep breath, and then he began to lick.

   Tyler's eyes were puffy.  Parker had held his head for a few seconds
till he realized he didn't have to, then leaned back on his elbows and
let his gymbag rub against his crotch while his ex-best friend rooted
with his face around inside.  When he was hard enough he reached down and
pulled Tyler's head out by his hair.  The boy's face was red, his eyes
glassy and stoned.  One of Parker's socks hung out of his mouth.  "All of
it, bro," he said, then watched as Tyler's eyes teared over and he
started chewing the rest of the ripe cotton into his mouth.  He sat up
and his gymbag fell to the floor between Tyler and the bed.  "I think
there's something wrong with me, bro," he said.  "I sweat too much, man.
Especially my feet, bro."  He looked down at Tyler.  "Chew it.---'Course,
I guess you know THAY, huh?"  He laughed and Tyler blushed and hated
himself and chewed until the sock was a wet mass in his mouth, and his
cheeks puffed out.  They heard a thump from Matt's room and both looked,
then Parker smiled.  He turned back to his friend.  "Be glad that's not
Matt's sock, man.  Whew!!  That kid's a REAL stinker."  They heard
another thump and then Parker said, "This way, Ty," and Tyler turned back
to his belittler.  "Eyes on the prize, bro," he said, standing up.

   He took a step forward and Tyler pulled back.  "Still woulda never
pegged you for a fag, though, Ty."  His friend blinked, and the way he
looked doing that with his cheeks puffed out made Parker laugh.  He took
another step forward, and Tyler fell back on his hands and butt.  "Lucky
for you I gave my regular bitch the day off, huh?"  He lifted his foot
and stepped on Tyler's crotch, felt the wide receiver's hard lump
underneath.  He looked at his buddy.  "You have a hardon, straight boy."
Tyler's hand jerked forward and tried to pull his buddy's foot off him,
and Parker bent down and slapped his face.  Tyler's nostrils flared over
his gag, but his hand stopped, though.  "Look at me, bro," Parker said.
Tyler was panting, his tshirt was soaked.  "Spit it out, man," he said,
then watched as Tyler started disgorging his sock, pushing the wet ball
out of him with his tongue, till it plopped down on the floor between
them.  Parker squatted down on the floor astride him and made an obvious
fist.  "Now tell me again, bro.  Whaddya say?"  "I will," Tyler
swallowed, moving his jaw, "....respect Parker's... personal property.
"That's right, buddy," Parker said, matter-of-factly.  "Now I wanna hear
you say it again."

   His fist slammed into Tyler's guy and the jock fell forward, clutching
Parker's chest.  He pushed his buddy off him and Tyler slumped down, over
this thigh.  Sweat dribbled from his nose.  His breath came in gulps.  "I
will... respect... Parker's... personal property, he said, his head
hanging near the floor.  Parker pulled him up and saw the wet spot on the
front of Tyler's blue shorts. "Yeah, straight boy," he said, slamming
into him again, making his mouth drop open and his stomach heave.  "And
we're gonna keep practicing till you don't forget it."

   He was glad his friend couldn't see him blushing, cause the worst part
was, it wasn't so bad.  Matt WAS clean, and except for the gross fact
that he was actually licking it, didn't smell nearly as bad as Bart
had... thought he might.  Certainly not as bad as that Mulvaney clown
last year who made sure to wipe his hairy ones all over his face
even AFTER he'd pinned him.  A quiver went through his stomach, at the
thought.  Matt was right.  He was losing too much, he had to focus more.
Then, above him, he heard Matt moan, and it made his tongue stop...
freeze-framed...  just for a second.  He suddenly thought the sickest
thing... that he was making his best friend moan.  His mind made a slow
and weird connection and he flushed underneath the tougher boy---he was
taking Matt down with his TONGUE.  He felt something stir down below, and
it made him feel crazy and strong.  Little Bart.  His tongue jabbed up.
Hey, young Barto.  He nudged with his nose.  Matt moaned again.  He
opened his mouth and pressed in and licked, not even as big as your
name...

   When Matt pulled off him, they both were dazed.  "Fuck...bro..." he
said, looking down at his... bitch.  "That was fucking awesome."  Bart
was panting, wet on his lips, looking at the boner Matthew had sprung.
Then catching himself and grabbing his head, Matt said, "Now the other
one, bitch!"

   A couple more punches and Tyler was finished.  His head was spinning
and he swallowed air.  He slumped in front of his former pal, the one who
looked like Brad.  Parker squatted down and lifted his head up and
brought it to his crotch.  His eyes were red, looking up at the tough
boy, and he smelled the odor of Parker's teen crotch.  "Is that what you
want, man?" he said, looking up.  "You want me to have to blow you?"
"Dude!" his friend said.  "It ain't about me, man.  You know I'm all
about my bud."  He brought his shorts to the tip of Tyler's nose and the
boy started swallowing and shaking.  "You love the smell of my fucking
jock, man.  Where do you think it comes from?"  Ty blinked and a single
tear leaked out.  Parker nudged it with his dick through his shorts.
"No," he swallowed, trying to talk.  "I can't be a queer."  He looked
up.  "Parker," he said. "I CAN'T."  Parker looked down and spat in his
face and grabbed Tyler by his hair.  His other hand pulled his running
shorts down, exposing the root of his cock.  "Sure you can, buddy," he
said, like a pal.  "You can be whatever you like."  His spit slid down
the curve of Tyler's cheek.  The baby burst out, ripping his guts up, and
Tyler... opened his mouth.


   Outside the day was turning milky as the sun dipped below the houses.
Matt and young Barto lay on their backs.  "So now we're even, right?  You
said."  Outside the window birds chirped in a tree and Matt realized he'd
been listening to them.  He rolled over on his elbow and looked at his
friend.  "Yeah, dude," he said, flicking his chest.  "Until the next time
you lose or piss me off."  "Shit, Matt," Bart said, pushing at Matt's
chest and jumping up quickly, "you just got lucky, man."  Matt scrambled
up and faced him off.  Bart looked at his firm tight chest.  "Next time I
want a rematch."  Matt grinned slowly, and the boys high-fived.  "You're
gonna go down again, bro!"  "You think so, bro?  You ain't all THAT!"
Armwrestling in the air, twisting and fooling around.  "Fuck, Matt," Bart
said, then, "I really need to go, man.  My mom'll get pissed if it gets
too dark, even if the bus is late."  "Yeah," Matt said.  "Okay.  I hear
you.  Bring that CD to school tomorrow, man---"  "Okay, I will, I
promise, bro."--- "or I'll have to kick your ass."  Downstairs Bart used
the phone and told his dad he was on his way, then they went  outside to
the driveway.  "Okay, bro, see you tomorrow then, Matt."  "Yeah," Matt
said.  "So long... PITLICKER."   "Fuck you, bro," Bart said, backing away
a few steps down the drive, and giving his buddy the finger.  "You just
tell Parker, Matt.  I'm a dude who pays up.  See you tomorrow at
school."  He adjusted his pack and set off for the bus stop. Inside the
garage Matt whooped and went "Yessss!!!" and punched the fucking
dartboard.


to be continued...