Date: Mon, 20 Jan 2003 19:29:31 -0600
From: Craig Nickels <cnickels@kansas.net>
Subject: Twitty and Ethan's Hollywood Adventure

Twitty and Ethan's Hollywood Adventure
By Craig Nickels. Email cnickels@kansas.net

This story follows In the Sack in Sac Town, parts 1 and 2. I suggest you
read those stories first.

All the usual discalimers, warnings, etc apply.    The characters are
copyright by Disney-ABC.  If you're under 17, you shouldn't be reading this,
because this is a gay-oriented story with teenage boys engaged in homosexual
activities -- blah blah blah.

-----
Twitty had been listening to Ethan's Back Street Boys "Millenium" CD.
Thinking of his relationship with Ethan and his apparent problem with his
parents, Twitty couldn't help making up his own lyrics; he was singing them
now for Ethan while playing the guitar he never traveled without.

(Tune: Larger than Life)

"I may run and hide when people are calling me names, alright
If this is the price of being gay, Then it's a price I'll pay, alright,
But you make me a child of the night.

All you homophobes can't you see, can't you see
How your hate's affecting us? We can't be free.
So we'll be right in your face, fighting for our rights
And that makes us larger than life."

And moving on

(Tune: I want it that way)

"My heart's - on fire - for my- desire, Believe - when I say - I know that I
'm gay.
'Twas love, at first sight, but I know it's just right. Believe - when I
say - I know that I'm gay!
Tell me why - you're filling me with heartache. Tell me why - you think I've
made a mistake
Tell me why - you never want to hear me say Mom, Dad, hey, I'm gay!
I am - your son - I've just - begun - to love - in this way,
But I know that I'm gay!

" Hey Twitty," said Ethan, " that's great. You should make a tape and send
it to your folks; maybe it would help them. Or play it for my friend Gordo -
he's met Aaron Carter and could send a tape to the Backstreet Boys if you
want. Or you could send a copy to the Christopher St. West - the LA gay
pride festival. (The Web site is http://www.lapride.org/ No that's NOT lap
ride.) It's coming up with the Gay Pride Parade and all. If you're as
serious about me as I am about you, I can't think of a better time to come
out and see what gay youth support is available. There ought to be something
at least in West Hollywood. We should be able to find something to help with
your folks. My folks, I think, will be cool. Mom might be disappointed, and
my sister may freak, but I don't have to live with her. I think Dad will be
cool with it."
- - - - - - - - -
(Later)
" So this is West Hollywood - Castro Street south," said Twitty.

"Uh, I believe it's 'Christopher Street west', remember?" said Ethan.

"Whatever. So many gyms! Don't these guys do anything else?"

"It can't all be like this," said Ethan, "let's try another street."

Around the corner, what should they find?

"Alright, this is more like it!" said Twitty. "A gay club. Music, dancing,
let's boogie and shake our tail feathers."

"Uh, we got like two problems with that," said Ethan. "One: the sign says it
's not open til night. Two: the sign says you gotta be 18 to get in here."

"Ah man," said Twitty, crossly.

"Psst," came a voice from a guy whose vast coat seemed to be made of nothing
but pockets. "Need fake Ids?"

"Maybe," said Twitty cautiously, wondering if the guy was legit or a
narc-type trap.

"I can make them for you, but you'll have to follow me to my place."

Twitty looked at Ethan with a puppy dog pout, his eyes saying "Please."

"Ok. How far is it?" asked Ethan.

"Not far at all," said the guy.

They followed the guy to a rather seedy-looking apartment house. Just before
they were to go inside, Ethan asked, "how much is this going to cost
anyway?"

"Oh --- just your ass!" said the guy, grabbing Ethan and trying to drag him
inside.

Twitty jumped on the guy, knocking him down and freeing Ethan. "Shit, man,
let's get out of here!"

So they ran, and OOF! CRASH! They ran right into somebody, knocking him off
his bike.
"Like, sorry sir," said Ethan.

"Ditto," said Twitty.

"Are you alright?" asked Ethan.

"That's what helmets are for," the man said; then, as Ethan gave him a hand
up, "Ethan? Ethan Craft?"

"Mr. D?" asked Ethan.

"What are you doing here Ethan? This isn't what I'd call your side of the
tracks. It's about all a Black teacher can afford, unfortunately."

"You live around here?" asked Ethan.

"Not in that dump you were running out of! Word is that's a crack house. I'
ve got a place not far from here."

"Uh, no offense sir, "said Twitty, "but we've heard that line before."

"Suit yourself. But you're welcome to, how do you say it? 'come with' if you
want," said Mr. D.

"He's Mr. Dig, one of my teachers, he's cool," Ethan explained to Twitty,
"and we could use somebody that knows the area."

"You got that right!" agreed Twitty.

"Lead on McGruff," said Ethan.

"That's McDuff - it's a line from Shakespeare," Said Mr. Dig, "although
considering your situation, I guess you could compare me to McGruff the
crime dog. Who's your friend?"

"Oh, I'm - well friends call me Twitty."

"Twitty?"

"Well, it's my name, Alan Twitty."

"Oh. Well, I was on my way home from LA City College."

"Really?" asked Ethan. "You teach there too?"

"I wish! But I'm going to be teaching senior high next year. Now, in order
to keep up with teaching, Ethan, I sometimes need a class myself."

"What class are you taking?" asked Ethan.

" Adolescent psychology. These days every high school teacher needs to be a
shrink. Is the world so much crazier than it was 30 years ago? I mean we had
Vietnam back then - that was crazy! And Watergate, and 'sex, drugs, and rock
and roll,' like Woodstock. Government was crazy and we were crazy, but we
didn't go around shooting classmates, not even with the race wars - and
believe me forced desegregation busing made things pretty uncomfortable for
a lot of people for awhile."

"You know," said Twitty, "except for the race problems then, and the
shooting problems now, not a lot seems to have changed. We've got a crazy
president reinstating the draft for his own private war; we've got
'Florida-gate and Enron-gate.' Then again, I think there's so much more
coming at us so much faster than in your day. Seems like everything is
'instant' these days, and we're supposed to be instant: instant successes,
instant jocks, instant scholars, whatever. No wonder some go off the deep
end."

"Thank you, Twitty, " said Mr. Dig. "It's one thing to study adolescents,
but actually hearing from one makes it much more understandable. Yeah, I can
see you kids probably are under more pressure than I was at your age. But
now, we're almost at my place, we can continue conversation indoors."

Once inside, Mr. Dig asked "Can I offer you boys anything: Coke, Pepsi, left
over pizza?"

"All the above," said Twitty, jokingly, then thought better of it and said "
make that ANY of the above."

"Got any grape soda?" asked Ethan.

"You like that? So does my son. I'll see what we've got," said Mr. Dig,
going to the kitchen.

When Mr. Dig got back, he said "All the above, as requested by Mr. Twitty,
including grape soda for Mr. Craft. Now then, Ethan, I believe you said you
wanted someone who knows the area - what are you looking for?"

"Well, Children of the Night, for one thing," said Ethan. "We've got an
address, but I forgot to ask for a cross street, or how to find it."

"Children of the Night - the shelter for runaways? Ethan, if you've got a
problem at home, let's talk about it. Running away should be a last resort."

"I don't have a problem at home," said Ethan. ("Not yet anyway," he added
under his breath.)



"I'm the runaway," said Twitty. "Ethan and I are."

"Cousins," said Ethan, before Twitty could reveal that they were gay, and/or
lovers.

"Oh. Where you from?" asked Mr. Dig.

"Sacratamontica," said Ethan and Twitty together.

"Say what?" asked Mr. Dig.

"Santa Monica," said Ethan.

"Sacramento," said Twitty. "And we're not cousins. We're lovers. Ethan, you
don't need to cover for me; besides, you were the one that talked about
coming out, and trying to get info from Christopher Street gay pride and
all. If we can't come out on neutral ground, to a friendly teacher, how are
we going to come out to our parents?"

"Well, you're a long way from home, Twitty, but sounds like you want to
contact P-FLAG, as well as Children of the Night," said Mr. Dig.

"What's P-FLAG?" the boys asked together.

"Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. They try to help parents
understand and accept their gay kids. Ethan, you're not the first student I'
ve counseled on this issue. I can't name anyone - that would be a violation
of trust - but I can say you're not alone. I don't have an address, they
just list a PO box for PFLAG in LA, but their help line is 310-472-8952, and
their e-mail is ljs712@aol.com. Let's go online and see if we can find a
Sacramento group."

It didn't take long for them to find Sacramento PFLAG, PO Box 661855,
Sacramento, CA 95866.
E-mail: sacpflag@sacramentoplag.org. Phone: 916-978-0410. Twitty looked and
found more info on Children of the Night at
http://childrenofthenight.org/site/ and
http://childrenofthenight.org/site/founder.html.

"Do you have a back up plan if the shelter is full?" asked Mr. Dig.

"Well I'm staying at Ethan's for now. I can stay there a few nights more.
His dad's gone on business" said Twitty.

"Good, hopefully you can work things out by then. How long have you been
here?"

"Just one night so far," said Twitty.

"Ok. Boys, I don't know what you've been through, but I can guess what's
coming up. Twitty, did you leave any kind of note, or did you just run?"

"I just ran, I had to get away, there was just too much pressure building up
at home - too many questions I'm not ready to answer."

"So your folks don't know why you ran, and they probably don't know where
you ran, is that right?"

"I think so."

"That may buy you some time. Now, Twitty, even if your parents threw you
out - and you indicate they did not - they'll start to worry about you and
look for you. If they can't find you among your friends in Sacramento, they'
ll contact state police. I think police won't get involved until you've been
'missing' at least 48 hours (giving you time to come back on your own) - so
sometime tomorrow they may put out APB info on you. After tomorrow night
(your 3rd night away), the FBI, or at least California Bureau of
Investigation is likely to get involved. I don't know, but I'm guessing they
'll watch the shelters, and I expect Children of the Night will have to
report you, if they're asked."
" Now," Mr. Dig continued, "Children of the Night should have info or
contacts for you - maybe gay teen support, teen center, whatever - or you're
welcome to look online. I've got psychology to read. You've got a little
time before my wife should be getting home from her job, then I can ask
about you staying here tonight. My son's at camp, so his room's available.
If you think you'll be long at the computer, let me know and I'll plan 2
more for supper.

"Thanks," Twitty said.

"You know, " said Ethan, after Mr. Dig had left them, "I should call my
friend Gordo and see if you could stay there."

"Gordo?"

"Well his name's Gordon, David Gordon, but most of the kids at school call
him Gordo. He's an only child, and they've got a big house, so it's not like
they don't have room. Plus, his folks are both shrinks, so they might be
cooler than some parents."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Twitty.

Ethan went to ask Mr. Dig where the phone was, then called Gordo, saying
only that he had a friend who'd run away from home and would need a place to
stay.

"Well, I just asked my folks if I can have YOU over on Saturday night, and
that's cool, "said Gordo.

"Why Saturday in particular?" asked Ethan.

"Well, even though my name's Gordon, I'm Jewish, well half Jewish. I've got
a Jewish mother and she's raising me Jewish. Tonight's Friday. Friday night
into Saturday is Sabbath, so she doesn't encourage having people over then -
that's why I usually hang out with Lizzie and Miranda or somewhere on
Saturdays. During the week, Mom goes off to her office downtown, but we've
got dad's psych clients coming and going- his office is here at the house.
So Saturday and Sunday are probably the best nights. This Saturday is even
better as my folks are going away for their anniversary or something - a
little romance at a B&B."

"OK, we'll plan on Saturday, and maybe Sunday too," said Ethan, then he hung
up.

Mr. Dig stuck his head in the door. "Well, what's happening?"

"Twitty can stay with Gordo over the weekend. He can hang out with me on
Monday, then I guess it's the shelter, or back home, because Dad should be
back Monday night or sometime Tuesday."

"What about tonight?" asked Twitty.

"My son's at camp, so his room's available," said Mr. Dig.

"You think I might be able to stay here next week?" asked Twitty.

"I don't know; let's take it one day or night at a time. Besides, you really
ought to be thinking about getting back home. You can't run and hide
forever."

Just then, there was a noise at the door and Mrs. Dig came in. Her husband
explained the basic situation that a boy needed a place to stay. Mrs. Digs
agreed that Twitty could stay the night.







- - - - - -
After dinner

"Man that was good," said Twitty. I feel like I just had a feast! Think I'll
take a little after-dinner nap."

Twitty slept longer than he expected. When he woke up, there was a note
taped to the inside of the bedroom door. It read: "Twitty - The Digs said
you could stay the night, and you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake
you. I've gone back home. Here's Gordo's phone and address. Good luck. Call
me and let me know how things go.
Love, Ethan"
- - - - - - - - - - -
Saturday afternoon

Twitty had gone over to Gordo's a bit early to get acquainted. Gordo had
taught him how to play Hacky Sack. Then the day turned rainy. Gordo
suggested they go inside and play cards.

"You wanna play 21?" asked Twitty.

"Sure," said Gordo.

After a few hands, Twitty said: "Let's make this interesting."

"You want to play for money?" asked Gordo.

"Can't spare any," Twitty replied. "How about strip poker." (If Gordo is
friends with Ethan, I wonder if he swings both ways, he thought.)

"OK." (Kid doesn't know I'm a champion blackjack dealer and player, thought
Gordo, this could be fun.)

Gordo let himself lose a hand, removing his shirt. (Both boys had taken off
their shoes earlier.) Twitty noticed the smooth chest, and tummy. (He looks
young, thought Twitty. I think he's still got a bit of baby fat!)

Twitty lost the next hand, removing his jeans, as he was feeling kind of
hot. Then he lost the hand after that, removing his shirt. Gordo noted the
muscle definition in Twitty's pecs and abs.

"Wow, you must work out," Gordo said.

"Yeah, I have to for the school wrestling team," Twitty replied.

"You wrestle? Me too," said Gordo. "How much do you weigh?"

" I haven't checked lately, but I think around 160 pounds."

"I think you outweigh me by about 20 pounds," said Gordo, "but you wanna try
some moves?"

(I'd like to try some moves - but not just wrestling, thought Twitty. Man,
why did I have to fall asleep at the Digs? No Ethan, no sex; I'm so horny
right now.) "Sure," said Twitty.

"I guess I better take off my pants too," said Gordo, stripping down to his
boxers.

The two boys wrestled for awhile, Gordo unable to get Twitty down, but
managing to avoid being pinned himself until suddenly WHAM he found himself
on his back.

"Foul," said Gordo, looking up at Twitty's crotch.

"What do you mean?" asked Twitty. "I got you fair and square."

"Yeah, but you grew a 3rd leg, I didn't know where to put my hands!"

"Oh," said Twitty, getting off Gordo. Looking down, he noticed his hard cock
was extending below the right leg of his shorts.

Gordo could see by Twitty's flushed and blushing face that he was
embarrassed.

"Don't be embarrassed," said Gordo. "In fact, I could help you with that."

"Huh?" said Twitty.

"Oh, like you've never jerked off with another guy? Ethan called me again
and explained the situation. I think that's cool. Ethan and I have jerked
off together a few times, but we never went further together."

"Whoa, Ethan said you'd be cool, but I never imagined you'd be that cool!
Let's do it!"

Twitty quickly stripped.

"Wow," said Gordo. "I've never seen an uncut one up close. And your pubes
are still kinda blond. Cool."

"What do you want to do?" asked Twitty.

"Let me play with it, I think you'll like my technique - nobody's complained
yet."

To Twitty's surprise, Gordo didn't start by stroking his cock. Gordo started
by fingering Twitty's balls, gently tugging at them.

"Ha!" Twitty let out a quick laugh.

"What is it?" asked Gordo.

"I was just thinking how my PE coach is named Tugnut, and I was picturing
him saying 'now today boys, you'll learn the reason for my name,' and he
teaches us about masturbation and circle jerks and all."

"You got the hots for your gym teacher?" asked Gordo.

"No way! It's just the name got me thinking."

Gordo ran his fingers from the balls to the top of Twitty's cock head,
swirled the foreskin around there, then slid back down back down to the
balls, fingering Twitty's sensitive area between his balls and his ass.
Gordo explored every square inch of Twitty's genital surface area. Twitty
loved to have his genitals worshipped, played with in this erotic way. He
had jacked off with other boys, including his friend Louis, but he'd never
been handled by another guy except for Ethan, and that was nothing like
this.

"Does that technique have a name?" asked Twitty, as Gordo continued his
tickling, massaging, and fondling.

"I call it 'call boy.' That's call, as in phone call. Remember the old ad
'let your fingers do the walking' ?"

Twitty laughed. "Whatever, it feels good."



Gordo began going faster.

"Ooh, stop, stop, that tickles!" said Twitty. "What do you call that?"

"Greyhound. You know, 'leave the driving to us'? Basically it's what I was
doing before, only faster. So you want something slower, huh?"
Gordo gently pinched Twitty's foreskin, then moved to the loose skin just
below the tip of Twitty's penis, rubbing his fingers together slowly, as
though he were feeling a piece of fine soft cloth.

"Oh man, that's like giving me little shocks," said Twitty.

"So that's why the book called it 'static charge.' I haven't had any uncut
dick to try it on until now."

"What Book?" asked Twitty.

"Well, actually I got that one online, from
http://www.male-masturbation-techniques.com/ -- one of many sites on the
subject of masturbation, although my dad's got books on the subject - he
sometimes uses them in marriage counseling to help couples put some 'zing'
back in their love making. Dad's let me read them, figuring I'm going to
jack off so I might as well know more than one way to do it."

"Your dad sounds cool," said Twitty. "I wish my folks could be as
understanding. I think they want me to be a virgin til I'm 18, but if I didn
't show some interest in sex they'd probably make a date for me. I mean they
must have had feelings and experiences as teenagers, but I guess you forget
that once you become a parent."

Gordo spit on his hands before he tried the next technique. "I should have
some lube - baby oil or something - for this, but I guess spit will do." He
began spinning Twitty's cock between his hands like he was Boy Scout trying
to light a fire by twirling a stick into tinder. "This one's called 'flame,'
I think you can guess why," said Gordo.

"Well, it's certainly lighting my fire!" agreed Twitty.

Now that Twitty was really erect, Gordo began slapping his dick back and
forth between his hands.

"Oh wow, I LOVE that!" Twitty exclaimed.

"That's called 'shuttle cock,' and I think it's one of the best. You take
the penis in both hands, fingers lightly touching the sides of the shaft,
then flick, or slap, the penis back and forth between your two hands,
shuttling it back and forth. This may not seem incredibly thrilling at
first, but pretty soon, as it builds up momentum, it's great. I could always
get Ethan to cum with this one. But I want to try a few other things with
you now."

"Anything, I'm just gonna close my eyes and enjoy it."

Gordo teased the more sensitive areas of the penis: the glans and corona,
and the tender part of the bottom side of the penis. He stopped to spit on
his hand again. He put his palm on the top of the glans and parked it there
flat out, fingers held together and stiff. Then he spun his hand as if
trying desperately to remove the tight lid of a jar. Twitty was groaning in
delicious agony. The glans is super sensitive and Gordo knew this motion
would bring him exquisite pleasure.

"Oh man, that feels almost like you're tonguing it!" gasped Twitty.

Gordo continued to use his open palm to swirl around the head, the way his
tongue would lick an ice cream cone.

"Oh, YEAH!" grunted Twitty.

The feeling changed briefly before it returned with even more of a tonguing
sensation. Twitty opened his eyes to see that Gordo was tonguing him, using
his hands to stroke himself. It was too much for Twitty, and he cried "I'm
gonna cum!"

To Twitty's surprise, Gordo didn't stop tonguing him, but instead took his
cock further into his mouth and began sucking on it. Twitty shot several
streams of cum, which Gordo swallowed.

When he was done, Twitty pulled out, saying "Wow Gordo, I didn't expect you
to do that!"

"Oh come on, I could tell you wanted me to suck you."

"But you swallowed it!"

"Oh that; I didn't want you making a mess on the carpet. Well, you gonna
return the favor?"

"Heck yes! But you'll have to teach me those dick-handling techniques if you
want that; I'm more of a cock sucker."

As Twitty started sucking him, Gordo said "Twitty, I think this could be the
start of a beautiful friendship."

-----
Monday

Twitty was eager to try the new techniques with Ethan. They were so into
their lovemaking that they didn't hear the front door open; they didn't hear
the footsteps in the hall. Ethan was grunting like an animal in heat as he
shot his load down Twitty's throat when he heard a familiar voice outside
his door.

"Ethan, are you alright? It's Dad, I'm coming in.

"ETHAN!" His Dad exclaimed, surprised to literally catch his son with his
pants down with a blond boy about the same age who was desperately trying to
stuff his own cock back in his pants.

"DAD! You're home early!" said Ethan, trying to quickly dress himself. "I
can explain."

"You don't have to explain son. I should have expected this and made more
noise coming in. When you were 12 and showed no interest in girls (other
than wearing your sister's clothes and going as a girl at Halloween) I didn'
t think anything of it. At 13, I thought you were just slow to develop, and
shy. When you weren't dating at 14, I thought well it's only junior high. As
you got nearer 15 and still didn't show any of the usual interest, I began
to think you were gay. A lot of those nights when you thought I was going
back to the office I was actually at
P-Flag meetings, or at the library learning what I could about teen
homosexuality and how to not only accept it but be supportive. I don't care
if you're gay. You're my son and I'd love you if you turned purple or
something."

Turning to Twitty, he added, "and any friend of my son is a friend of mine,
so you don't need to worry either."

"Dad, this is Twitty, Alan Twitty. He's run away from home in Sacramento
because his parents haven't been supportive, and he's afraid they may ground
him, reject him, or even kick him out if they find out he's gay."

"Alan Twitty? You were on the news this morning as missing. I didn't have TV
in the car but I imagine your picture has been circulated. They gave a
description on the radio, but that could have been almost any blond boy your
age. Your parents aren't going to throw you out. They may ground you for
awhile, but that's because you ran away and they care about you. They're
looking for you because they care, and they don't want to lose you."

"What if they're only looking for the son they THINK they know - the son I
used to be, but can't be anymore?"

"Nobody stays a little boy forever, Twitty. They'll realize that."

"I guess you're right. Well, I better see about a bus ticket back home
tomorrow."

"You better CALL home tonight!" said Mr. Craft.

"I was out visiting one of our research and development offices," Mr. Craft
continued, "and looks like we've got a product ready to patent, so I've got
to go up to the Sacramento patent office to file. May as well cash in those
frequent flyer miles and fly you up there with me. If you want, I can talk
to your parents, tell them you're friends (or more, if you want) with my
son, and see if I can help them understand."

"I - I don't know what to say, how to thank you," said Twitty.

"Hey, said Ethan, don't forget the Sacramento P-FLAG."

"There's one in Sacramento?" asked his dad.

"Yeah, we found one online."

"That's great - should be a big help."

"Well, I'm famished. Why don't you boys get cleaned up and we can go out for
something. Is Digital Bean OK with you, Ethan?"

"Digital Bean?" I forgot all about that.

"What's this Digital Bean ?" asked Twitty.

"It's got everything - Burgers, pizza, sodas, coffee - and computers. It's
sort of a cyber café," explained Ethan.

"Hey, I can e-mail Dad and let him know I'm alright," said Twitty.

"You can, but I'd still like you to call home after we check the flight
schedules," said Mr. Craft.

"Deal," said Twitty. "It's been an adventure, but now I think I'm ready to
go back home."

The End