Date: Tue, 19 Jan 2010 00:07:49 -0800 (PST)
From: "Steve (stimle)" <stimle@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bases Loaded, Part 1

BASES LOADED
by stimle

This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is coincidental.
This story will contain sex between males, both consensual and not, some
alcohol and drug use, blackmail, betrayal and forgiveness.  Don't read it
if you're under age where you live or if you are offended by this type of
material.  Don't post this anywhere without asking my permission.


BASES LOADED
Part 1 (Chapters One - Five)

Chapter One
- March 13

Finally!  Robby Caldwell could hardly believe it.  The letter confirming
his full baseball scholarship to St. Bartholomew College had finally
arrived.  He'd known it was coming - for weeks now - but had refused to let
himself get too excited until he was holding the actual letter in his hand.
And now here it was...

His mom had left a voice mail message on his cell phone that a letter from
the Athletic Department at St. Bartholomew had come in the mail that
afternoon.  Robby had been at baseball practice and saw the flashing
message indicator when he got to his locker.  He barely heard the rest of
the message as he slipped on his running shoes, grabbed his gym bag and,
without waiting to shower or change, practically sprinted the two miles
home.

He hugged his parents and younger sister, drenching them with sweat, and
ran to his room to call his older brother.  Reese was at college and, as
usual, Robby got his voice mail.  After blurting out a rushed, spastic
message, he grabbed the letter, kissed it and slid it back into the
envelope.  He'd read and re-read it a hundred times by now and had
memorized the contents, replaying them now in his head as he stripped out
of his baseball uniform to his compression shorts.  As he lowered them,
leaving him in just his white athletic briefs and cup, he grabbed the
letter again, still in disbelief.  He looked at his refection in the
mirror, his face glowing and his green eyes sparkling.

He ran his hands through his thick brown hair.  It was a far cry from what
it had been at the start of the school year, when his summer crew cut was
just starting to grow out.  He'd previously worn his hair shorter but now
he liked it longer and shaggy, an unkempt, disheveled style that looked
like he'd just rolled out of bed.  In reality it took him a good amount of
time to make it look so carefree, and if some of his friends at school knew
just how long they'd have a good laugh.  He wished he was like Reese: Reese
was one of those impossibly good looking guys who actually could just roll
out of bed, throw on some jeans and a tee, and look like a runway model.
Not that Robby was bad looking - far from it.  A few months ago while at
dinner with his family, a waitress told him he looked just like Zac Efron
except (she pointed out breathlessly) Robby's eyes were green and Zac's
were a 'really intense blue.'  Robby had smiled sheepishly and sank low in
his seat as the woman babbled on.  Meanwhile his younger sister had
squealed and giggled because she was obsessed with all things Zac Efron and
'High School Musical.'  He was her big celebrity crush and the mere mention
of his name catapulted her into a state of euphoria.  A few days later
Robby casually mentioned it to his friends and they all had a good laugh.
But when it came down to it, it was actually a good comparison.

There were several photographs pinned on the bulletin board over his desk
and his eyes focused on one of him and his girlfriend that had been taken
Thanksgiving Day.  Sara.  They had started dating the previous month and
that was their first holiday together.  Cheek to cheek, twinkle in his
eyes, his lips upturned in a slight smile.  He loved that picture because
that was the day - the very moment in fact - when he realized Sara was the
person he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with.  He was
still just seventeen at the time (he'd turned eighteen shortly before
Christmas) but he knew she was the one.

The thought of Sara gave him an instant hard on and he reached into his
athletic briefs to adjust his erect six-inch dick.  He closed his eyes and
moaned lowly as his cock began to throb at the touch.  He thumbed the
sensitive tip and let out a grunt as his knees buckled and he collapsed
backward onto his bed.  He resisted the urge to masturbate as he lowered
the briefs, feeling increasing guilty as he slowly gave into the urge, the
temptation... knowing he was going against the teachings of the Catholic
Church.

Desperate to find a distraction, he turned his attention back to the
bulletin board, his eyes coming to rest on a picture of him with his two
best friends: Matt Crandall and Alex Fields.  For as long as he could
remember they had been referred to as The Three Musketeers.  The picture
had been taken the night of Homecoming when Robby had been voted Homecoming
King.  Him... Homecoming King!!?  That had been a big surprise.  Everybody
thought Matt had it sewn up. After all, Matt was easily the most popular
guy in school and it seemed only natural that he'd be crowned.  But it was
an epic upset, and nobody was more happy for him than Matt.  The picture
next to it was of the three of them along with Nate Marshall and Brice
Cooper - the rest of the Homecoming Court - arm in arm and smiling.

Robby grabbed his BlackBerry, a surprise Christmas present from his parents
last year, and pressed the key for Matt's number.  "Hey!" he yelled into
the phone, excited and out of breath.  "It came! It's here!"

He was unusually animated as he spoke, practically dancing around his room,
a smile plastered across his face, blissfully unaware that his drapes were
wide open, providing a clear view to anybody who happened to walk by.

They made plans to meet at Applebee's at 7:00 p.m., and then, realizing his
curtains were open, he yanked them closed.  He stripped off his underwear
and jumped into the shower.

As he soaped himself up, he felt a twinge of guilt for not calling Alex.
For the past two and a half months, ever since he made the decision to go
to St. Bartholomew, his friendship with Alex had become strained.  And for
the stupidest reason: apparently Alex felt Robby was settling by choosing a
'second rate' school like St. Bartholomew.  He told Robby, and everybody
else who would listen for that matter, that he was pissing away his talent
by not going to one of the big powerhouse schools that had been sniffing
around him the past couple of years.  At first Robby didn't think too much
about it, but over the last few weeks he was taken aback at how
increasingly vocal - and even hostile - Alex had become.

Sure, Robby had been scouted by some big schools - Arizona and Texas, to
name a couple - but he never sought them out.  He never invited the
recognition and the resulting scrutiny.  Instead, he opted for St. Bart's
because for as long as he could remember he wanted to be a teacher, and he
felt St. Bart's was the best place to make that dream come true.  It had
the reputation, the curriculum, and it was the right size.  Sure it was
more expensive than a lot of other schools, but getting the full
ride... well, that both sweetened and sealed the deal.

He turned off the shower and reached for a towel, drying off a bit and
wrapping it around his waist as he stepped out of the shower.  He caught
his reflection in the steamy mirror as he grabbed a hand towel and wiped it
down.  He sighed.  If he thought about it - really thought about it - he
knew he wasn't being completely honest with himself.  Deep down he didn't
think he was as good as his coaches and everybody else thought he was.  He
simply didn't believe it, and he didn't want to take the chance of failing
on that big of a stage.  And to be honest, as much as he loved baseball, it
wasn't his whole world.  He didn't crave the spotlight like Alex, and even
Matt.

He shook his head, shuddering slightly.  Maybe Alex was right.  Not about
everything, but certainly more than Robby would, or could, let on.

But he buried those thoughts as he finished toweling off, telling himself
it was his life and his dreams and if people like Alex didn't
understand... well... that was too bad.

Determined to put the sudden flood of depressing thoughts out of his mind,
he re-knotted the towel around his waist, slinging it low on his slim hips
and hunted for something to wear.  He should be celebrating, not getting
down in the dumps!  One of the sliding doors on his closet was mirrored and
he paused in front of it and stared at himself.  He was 5'11 and weighed
155 pounds, his body slender and toned thanks to a workout routine he'd
started a few years earlier.  He had a fairly decent six-pack, as good as
Alex's, but nowhere near as defined as Matt's... or Reese's.  His smooth
pecs were also developing nicely, with brown dime-sized nipples.  He
thought about the shirtless pictures of Zac Efron adorning the walls of his
sister's room and figured he had a better body.  Ha!  Take that, Zac!

He dropped the towel, looking back over his shoulder to double-check that
the drapes were shut, and pulled on a pair of white Hollister boxer briefs.
He flipped through his closet and rummaged through his drawers, finally
settling on his favorite Aeropostale jeans, the St. Bart's t-shirt he'd
been given during his first campus visit, a faded green Abercrombie hoodie
and black Skechers.

_______________

Chapter Two

Robby called Sara on the drive over to Applebee's.  She was in Chicago for
the weekend with her parents visiting her sister who was a junior at the
University of Chicago.  They were headed out to dinner so she could only
talk for a few seconds but promised to call him the next afternoon.

He arrived at the restaurant a few minutes after seven.  He saw Matt's blue
Ford Escape and parked next to it.  As he jumped out and checked his hair
in the side mirror he spied Alex's brand new Ford Mustang in the reflection
and grimaced.  Matt must've called him.  Good old Matt; always trying to
keep the peace.  He had purposely not called Alex because he wasn't in the
mood for his crap.  He wanted to celebrate and feel good and now he was
going to have to come up with an excuse for not calling him.

Robby lingered outside the door of the restaurant for a couple minutes,
wondering how this was going to play this out.  How was he going to explain
to Alex why he hadn't called him?  He could see the guys, seated in their
usual booth, sipping Cokes and laughing about something.  Alex was talking
animatedly about something, his blue eyes bright and wide, slouched back in
the booth, casually playing with a coaster.  His other hand absently raked
through his short blond hair and then grabbed his Coke.  He laughed again
as he reached into his drink and flicked a piece of ice at Matt. Matt
ducked and looked at his wristwatch and then turned in his seat to get a
better view of the room, his warm brown eyes scanning the area around him.
As he brushed an unruly lock of wavy brown hair from his eyes he caught
site of Robby and enthusiastically waved to him.

Robby smiled tightly and Matt shrugged his shoulders slightly in a 'what's
up' gesture that wasn't lost on Alex.  Robby took a deep breath and walked
into the restaurant, slid into the booth next to Matt, and put his best
friend into a mock choke-hold.  He nodded to Alex as he proudly put the
scholarship letter on the table.

Matt picked it up and read it.  "Dude, that's so awesome," he said,
slipping out from under Robby's arm.  "Wow."

Robby looked at Alex and chewed his lower lip.  "Sorry I didn't call
you..."

"Sokay," Alex shrugged, grabbing an onion ring off the plate the waitress
set down.  He looked Robby in the eyes and for a brief moment Robby saw a
glimpse of the old Alex.  He was about to smile when Alex's eyes turned
hard and steely.

"I don't get it," Alex said, shoving the onion ring into his mouth.  "You
coulda gone anywhere, dude... coulda been Big Man on Campus... So why
St. Bart's?  Heck, all the scouts say you're good enough to go to the big
leagues.  I don't get it."

Alex's comment had the exact effect Robby had expected.  His good spirits
dashed, he took the letter from Matt, folded it carefully, and slid it back
into its envelope.

"You're right, Alex," he said softly, slowly shaking his head as he
launched into his now all too familiar defense of his choice.  "You don't
get it.  I'm not like you.  Or Matt," he explained.  "How many times do I
have to say it?  I wanna go to St. Bart's because I don't care about the
big leagues or going pro. That's not why I play ball and you know me better
than that.  Or at least you should.  Don't get me wrong, though, 'cuz I
love baseball and all, and I love playing with you guys, but ..."

His voice trailed off and he was silent for a moment.  He closed his eyes
and exhaled softly, slowly shaking his head from side to side.  When he
finally opened them he looked around - at nothing in particular - and
shrugged his shoulders.  He leaned forward, his eyes going back and forth
between Alex and Matt, and in a voice that was small and determined spoke,
"but at the end of the day... it's just a game for me."

Alex turned his head away and Robby reached out and grabbed his arm.  "And
I'm not saying that to criticize 'cause I'm gonna miss you guys like hell
next year."

Alex looked back at him and his eyes seemed to soften for a second.  Then
he pulled away, jerking back as if burned.  Tired of explaining, Robby
shook his head and slumped in his seat.

They were quiet for the next several seconds until Alex spoke again.
"You're crazy," he said, his voice tinged with a contempt that hadn't been
present a moment before.  "I'd kill for a full ride, man!"

"Come on guys," Matt said, trying to broker a truce.  "This is supposed to
be a good time."

"No," Robby muttered, shaking his head, his hands clenched.  "This wasn't a
good idea, Matt.  I should go."

"No, don't," Matt pleaded as he reached out and grabbed them both by their
forearms.  "Come on, guys."

"Fuck him," Alex said to Matt, roughly pulling his arm back as he sneered
at Robby.  "Let him go if he wants."  He glared at Robby.  "Why don't you
go see your boyfriend, Brice."

"Screw you," Robby shot back, trying to keep his temper in check.

"You guys deserve each other," Alex spat back.  "Faggots."

"That's enough," Matt hissed in a low, yet forceful voice as he shot a
searing look at Alex.  He looked back at Robby.  "Both of you."

"Sorry," Alex muttered half-heartedly, his eyes averted.

"Forget it," Robby shook his head.  He grabbed the letter and stood up.  He
reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills.  "You know, I forgot to
called Nash," he said as he tossed them on the table and walked away.  "At
least he'll be happy for me."

_______________

Chapter Three

Robby's call went straight to Nash's voice mail and he hung up instead of
leaving a message.  He tossed his BlackBerry dejectedly onto the passenger
seat of his car and looked at his watch.  It was still early and he didn't
want to go home and explain to his parents why he'd been gone for less than
a half hour.  Maybe he'd catch a movie.

Just as he turned the key his phone rang.  It was Nash.  Nash Baird was a
student teacher at Robby's school who taught English and physical
education.  He also assisted Coach Atwood on the baseball team.  Growing up
he had been best friends with Reese and had known Robby nearly his whole
life.

"Hey," Nash said.  Wherever he was calling from it was loud.  "Did you just
call?"

"Yeah," Robby said, still depressed.

"Something wrong?" Nash asked.  Robby didn't respond.  "Come on, Robby... I
know you better than that.  What's up?"

"Nothing," Robby said slowly, slumping into his seat and switching off the
ignition.  "I just wanted to tell you I got the letter from St. Bart's
today."

"That's great!" Nash exclaimed.  "But you sound bummed."

"Ah..." he started.  He was about to launch into the whole ordeal but
stopped himself.  "It's nothing.  Nevermind."

"It doesn't sound like nothing," Nash said.  He must have stepped outside
because the noise level had decreased noticeably.  "You wanna talk about
it?"

"Um... no.  That's okay.  I don't wanna bother you."

"It's not a bother, kiddo," Nash insisted.  "Plus you called me."  He
paused a moment.  "Tell you what... I'm over at Jake's Grill watching the
game.  Why don't you come on over and we can talk?"

That actually sounded good to Robby.  Nash had always been somebody he
looked up to.  In fact, he believed it was his work with Nash on and off
the field the past few months that helped clinch the scholarship for him.
He smiled and said, "Yeah, cool.  I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"I'll look for you," Nash said.  "Later."

Robby set his phone down, still smiling.  Maybe tonight wouldn't be a total
wash after all.  He started his car and put it into gear.  As he drove,
however, Alex's comments came back and his good mood faded.  His phone rang
a few minutes later.  He didn't bother to look at the screen as he slipped
his Bluetooth earpiece on.  "Hello?" he murmured, his voice heavy with
dejection.

"Boy, for somebody who just got a full scholarship you don't sound too
excited."

"Reese!!" Robby exclaimed, his spirits instantly lifted.  "Hey!"

"I just got your message, Tiger.  Congrats!"

"Thanks..."

"But why so glum, chum?" Reese asked, sensing something in Robby's tone.
"You should be more excited."

"I am. I mean, I was... But..."

"But what?" Reese prodded.

"Alex..."

"Is jealous," Reese interrupted, finishing his sentence for him.  He knew
all about Robby's problems with Alex.  "Alex Fields is jealous and
insecure.  Plain and simple."

"But why would he be jealous?" Robby asked.  "I don't understand."

"He's jealous because he's not as good as you and never will be," Reese
said.  "He's never gonna get a full scholarship anywhere and he's probably
feeling like he's stuck here."

"Come on, that's not fair."

"No, hear me out for a sec," Reese explained.  "Alex is good at every sport
he plays... pretty darn good, in fact... but he's not a standout in any of
them.  Not like you in baseball.  Or Matt in swimming."

"So I guess it doesn't help either that Matt's being recruited?" Robby
ventured, conceding the point.

"That's great!  By who?"

"Lots of places... UTA, TCU... but I think he's settled on Valparaiso."

"Valpo, huh?" Reese said.  "That's great.  And it's pretty close to
St. Bart's too, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Robby nodded.  "Not too far.  And Sara's going there too."

Reese chuckled.  "Well, it's not going to help Alex any with Matt heading
out, too.  But that's his problem, not yours.  Plus, it's not like he
doesn't have options: Purdue's a damn good school."

"Well, he doesn't see it that way," Robby said, pulling up to a stop light.
He was a couple of miles from Jake's Grill.  "He doesn't get it.  It's
almost like he doesn't want to get it."

"Exactly," Reese concurred.  "You hit the nail on the head.  He doesn't
want to get it.  And if he doesn't want to get it how do you think you're
supposed to make him understand?"

"I don't know," Robby muttered as he chewed his inner cheek.

"There isn't," Reese insisted.  "Trust me.  If he doesn't want to listen -
if he doesn't even want to try to see your side - well, then there's
nothing you can do.  Not until he's ready."

"But what if that doesn't happen?"

"Then it doesn't happen," Reese said matter-of-factly.  "And I'm sure it'll
be sad, but at least you'll know you did everything you could.  Look, I
know it doesn't sound like much consolation, but you can't change
somebody's heart."

Robby was silent for a moment.  "Just when things're starting to fall into
place, everything else starts falling apart," he said wistfully.  The light
turned green and he began driving again.

"What else is going on?" Reese asked.  When Robby didn't answer, he
persisted.  "Something else is bothering you, I can tell.  What is it?"

Robby exhaled deeply.  "I really screwed things up with Brice," he finally
admitted.

"Brice Cooper?" Reese asked.  "Isn't he that tall gangly kid with glasses
and braces who was at the house a lot last Summer?"

"Yeah..."

"What happened?"

Robby swallowed hard as he turned into a 7-11 and parked.  He hung his head
as he related the story to Reese.  He and Brice had, until just recently,
been pretty good friends.  But last month on the night of the Valentine's
Formal as the guys - Robby, Matt, Alex and Brice - were on their way to
pick up their dates, Brice dropped a bombshell and told them he was gay.
Matt had known for a long time, but it was news to the rest of them.  Alex
freaked.  He shouted to the driver to pull over and then ordered Brice out
because he wasn't riding in the back of a limo with a faggot.  When Matt
pointed out that they all had paid for the limo, Alex stormed out.  Robby's
reaction hadn't been nearly as severe.  But he didn't know how to put what
he was feeling into words and froze up, which turned out to be worse
because his silence that night and over the ensuing days had become
increasingly awkward until he and Brice were no longer speaking.

"Come on, so he's gay," Reese chided gently, his voice calm.  "When did you
turn into a homophobe?"

"I'm not!" Robby yelled, offended at the mere thought.

"Well, he never hit on you, did he?"

"No."

"Has he ever perved on you?"

"What?  No.  No!"

"And he's not a murderer or a child molester, either," Reese continued, "so
give him a break.  He's just gay."

"I know," Robby said softly.  "I mean, I don't care if he's gay... but I
was such a jerk that night... I shoulda said something."

"No time like the present."

"I don't know," Robby said thoughtfully.  "I think I really hurt him by not
saying anything and I think it's too late."

"Come on now," Reese said confidently.  "Really... you and Brice have been
friends for a while.  You can get through this."

"I'm not so sure," Robby said, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve.  "You
didn't see the look on his face.  For days he just looked at me like he was
waiting for me to say something and I was such a chickenshit!  I mean, I
avoided him!  I didn't know what to say and so I just avoided him and then
he left on vacation and when he got back he caught pneumonia and..."

"Sounds like a lot excuses, if you ask me."

"No, it's just..."

"No nothing, Rob.  You gotta talk to him," Reese pressed.  At Robby's
insistence he had been calling him 'Rob' for the last year.  "Don't make
excuses.  Swallow your pride.  Apologize.  Have faith that things will work
out.  And they will."

"How do you know?" Robby sniffed, rolling down his window and taking a deep
breath of the crisp night air.  "How can you be so sure?"

Now it was Reese's turn to be silent and Robby could hear him take a long
breath and exhale before he finally continued.  "To be honest, I'm not
sure," he conceded.  "But I'm hopeful because I'm going through the same
thing..."

"With Nash?" Robby ventured, finishing his sentence.  Reese sighed and
muttered a small "yes" and Robby shifted in his seat to get more
comfortable before he continued.  "What happened to you guys," he asked.
"You were best friends your whole lives and then you headed off to college
and everything just... changed.  You guys don't even talk to each other
anymore... and nobody else ever talks about it either.  What happened?"

Reese paused again.  "Well, you know his elbow got thrashed in that
accident before sophomore season started, right?  And since he couldn't
pitch anymore he had to give up his scholarship.  He finished out the
semester and bailed.  Heck, I don't even know if he took his finals.  I
stopped by his room to get him for breakfast one morning and he was gone.
I called his parents and they said he went to Oklahoma to live with his
grandparents.  I tried calling and stuff but he never returned any of my
calls.  I tried texting and emailing... nothing.  He just blew me off so I
figured screw him and I stopped trying.  I didn't see him again for months
and by then things were totally strained and we just avoided each other
and... well, now it's been a couple of years and..."

"How's any of that your fault?" Robby interrupted.  "Sounds like he's got
the problem, if you ask me!"

"Easy now," Reese said.  "There's more to it."  His voice was even and
rational, but began to sound wistful and sad as he began to relive ancient
history, spilling out details and secrets Robby had never heard, recounting
what felt like so much water under the bridge.  Maybe even too much to ever
go back.

Nash Baird's skills on the baseball diamond had been the stuff of high
school legend: Local Kid Made Good.  All the big schools wanted him and
scouts fell all over themselves trying to recruit him.  He was definitely
headed to the pros, but a car accident his sophomore year of college had
shattered both his elbow and his dreams.  The physical toll the accident
took was minimal compared to the emotional scarring he underwent.  His
future cut short before it ever had a chance to start, Nash slowly sank
into an abyss of despair and bitterness as the seriousness of the injury
and the gravity of the situation became apparent.  No longer able to play
at the level he had been at, and uncertain if he'd ever be able to pitch
again, the school had no choice but to revoke his scholarship.

He finished out the school year but had become increasingly dejected and
demoralized.  And then, instead of going home for the summer - unable to
face his family and friends - he moved to Tulsa and spent several months
living with his grandparents on their 5,000 acre ranch, secluded and safely
anonymous.  When he finally came home just before Christmas of that year
there was an obvious change in him.  It was as if the light behind his eyes
had dimmed.  He was distant and withdrawn and when school started in
January he didn't go back with Reese and the rest of his friends, opting
instead for the local university, Purdue, and a new life without baseball.

"But you're right," Reese continued, his voice shaking slightly.  "It
wasn't really logical, but at the time it was a really big deal to him.
You have to remember... Nash was good.  I mean, you're good Rob, but Nash?
Wow... untouchable.  With him you didn't have to buy into any hype.  He was
the real deal and baseball was his ticket to the future.  Back then me and
him were like you and Alex and Matt... a team.  When he got hurt it broke
up the team and then it got worse because I stayed at school and I guess he
felt betrayed."

"How can he be mad at you for that?!" Robby yelled again, sitting bolt
upright in his seat, his knee bashing against the steering wheel.  "He's
the one who left!  Talk about jealous... He sounds worse than Alex!  It's
just baseball for chrissakes!"

"Hey, hey, down boy," Reese laughed, and then turned serious again.  "Maybe
he was jealous.  Maybe not.  I don't know.  But what I do know, and what
the point of all this is, is that me and Nash never talked about it and now
it's too late.  I mean, hell Rob, he was my best friend - my best friend -
and I fucked it up.  Our friendship is destroyed beyond repair because I
couldn't... I didn't..."

"You okay," Robby asked gently.  "Reese?"

"And I know he hates me for what I did... but... but..." His voice caught
and he sniffled and cleared his throat.  "Ahhh... there's just a whole lot
more to this story that you don't know... and I don't wanna get into right
now.  I can't."

"Why not?" Robby asked.  "You know you can talk to me about anything."

Reese was silent again for a few moments.  "I know I can," he said, his
voice lighter.  "But I don't think you wanna hear me crying like a baby.
I'll tell you about it some day."

"Promise?"

"Yeah," Reese sighed, his voice back to normal.  "Yeah.  I really need to
have this conversation with him first, though.  Hash it all out.  But I'm
scared, you know?  And anyway, how did this get to be about me and Nash?  I
thought we were talking about you."

"Well..."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is don't let too much time pass.  You have
to talk to him and have faith that it'll work out.  Things'll be good with
you guys again.  You gotta believe that, Rob.  And as far as Alex goes,
well maybe he's acting like a dick because deep down he's hurting and it's
easier for him to lash out."

"I guess... yeah," Robby relented.  "Or else he's just an ass."

"Or else he's just an ass," Reese repeated, laughing.  "Meanwhile, you're
beating yourself up over something you should be excited about."

"I know..."

"It'll all work out," Reese said reassuringly.  "But you gotta help it
along.  And you can't get all pissed off every time Alex acts like a jerk."

"I guess," Robby agreed.

"Because otherwise you'd be pissed off all the time."

Robby laughed.  "You're right."

"And you know what they say..."

"No, what?"

"It's better to be pissed off than pissed on.  Unless you're into that
kinda stuff."

"Ew... that's gross," Robby shuddered.

"School's gonna be over before you know it and you don't wanna graduate
with any regrets."

"You're right," Robby said.  "Thanks."

"Any time, bro," Reese said.  "By the way, where are you?  Sounds like
you're in the car.  What're you doing tonight?"

"I just left the guys at Applebee's," Robby replied.  "Alex and Matt.  We
had a fight... Well, me and Alex did.  I... I... um... called Nash just
before you called."

"Nash?" Reese asked, his voice catching again.  "Why's that?"

"Well, he's been working out with me a few times a week since January, and
he's assisting Coach Atwood this season."

"He's what?" Reese was clearly surprised.  "Really?"

Robby cleared his throat before continuing.  "Yeah, he's student teaching
this semester."

"Wow, that's great.  But why didn't you say anything before?  Why didn't
mom or dad ever say anything?"

"Because," Robby said softly, exasperated.  "Like I said, nobody ever talks
about what happened.  I mean, I asked him about it when he first started
and he just said things were fine with you guys."

"He did?"

"Yeah, but I didn't really believe him.  I mean, the way he said it made it
seem pretty clear he didn't want to talk about it anymore so I just dropped
it."

Reese was silent.  "Are you mad?" Robby asked.  "I was on my way to see him
now but I can cancel.  Should I call and cancel?"

"No, it's cool," Reese said, his voice distant.  "But don't tell him we
talked... and don't say anything about what I just told you, okay?  Please?
Nash's never been one for Monday Morning Quarterbacking, if you know what I
mean."

"Yeah, okay," Robby nodded.

"Anyway, dude, I'm gonna be home in a couple of weeks and we'll hang out.
Just you and me, I promise.  Okay?"

"That'd be awesome," Robby said as he smiled.

"And do me another favor, okay?"

"What?"

"Don't tell him I'm coming home..."

"Who... Nash?  Why, what's up?"

"Nothing," Reese said quickly.  "I just wanna surprise him is all.  I need
to make things right with him again..."

Robby waited a few seconds for Reese to continue.  When he didn't, Robby
cleared his throat.  "Umm... you okay Reese?"

"Yeah," Reese replied, snapping out of it.  But there was something in his
voice.  "I'm good.  Just a lot of old memories and stuff.  Thanks for
listening, though.  This was good."

Robby smiled.  "I liked it too.  But why are you being so great to me,
Reese?"

Reese's full-throated chuckle filled the air.  "I think I left home just
when you were starting to get interesting.  I feel bad... and I miss you."

"I miss you too," Robby said softly.

"Anyway... I gotta go.  Melany's waiting."

"Okay," Robby said.  "I'm glad you called."

"I am too, Rob.  See ya."

Robby sighed as he hung up.  It felt like a huge burden was just lifted
from his shoulders and he could finally breath.  But as he started the car
and pulled out of the parking lot to drive the short distance to Jake's
Grill, the smile slipped from his face as he thought about what it was
going to take to make thing right again with his friends.  It felt like
such an uphill journey.

_______________

Chapter Four

There was a constant stream of Friday night traffic as Robby neared Jake's
Grill, but Nash was waiting for him out front and flagged him down as soon
as he spied him.

"Heya," Nash called out as he jogged up and slid into the passenger seat.
Robby returned his greeting with a grim smile but didn't say anything.

"So... what's up?" Nash asked as he buckled his seat belt.

Robby stared straight ahead, still not speaking.  A car honked behind them
and he shot a glance over his shoulder.

"You gotta move, buddy," Nash urged.  "Go ahead and pull around back for a
sec."  Robby nodded and put the car into gear, effortlessly merging with
the traffic.  He rounded the corner and parked where Nash indicated.

Robby was still silent so Nash took the lead.  "Let's head over to my
place," he suggested.  "We can talk there."

Robby didn't respond so Nash continued. "Okay... we don't have to talk.  We
can watch some TV or play video games... Or maybe you just need to get
hammered?"

Robby looked over and rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his lips.  Nash
smiled back.  "Alright then, hammered it is," he said, slapping Robby's
thigh.  "But you can't say anything to anybody or I'll get canned, okay?"

Robby nodded.  "And you gotta tell me what's going on," Nash insisted and
Robby nodded again.  "Okay then," he said as he opened the door and hopped
out.  "My car's right over there.  You can follow me."

Robby watched as Nash ran to his car, a silver Infiniti coupe.  He gunned
the engine and pulled up next to Robby, rolling down his window and
gesturing for him to do the same.  "I live a few miles from here.  Come
on."

Robby followed Nash through town to the Ninth Street Hill historic
district.  They turned onto a tree lined street and pulled up in front of a
one story Craftsman Bungalow.

"Wow, this is a nice place," Robby said as he got out of his car, admiring
the house.

"Thanks," Nash said, grabbing his book bag and gym bag from the passenger
seat.  "It belongs to my grandparents but I'm buying it from them."

"I didn't know they lived here," Robby said, following Nash up the
sidewalk.

"They don't," Nash shook his head.  "They live in Tulsa.  They bought it a
long time ago as a place to stay when they visited but they always ended up
staying with us.  They rented it out for a long time but let me move in
this past Christmas."

"Are they rich?" Robby asked clumsily and Nash laughed.  "I don't... I
mean... well, Reese said something once."

"I guess," he shrugged, his smile fading a bit at the mention of Reese's
name.  He unlocked the door and they went inside.  "My Grandpa made a lot
of money in the oil business a long time ago but the ranch has always been
in my Grandma's family.  They raise cattle and bucking bulls now."

"Bucking bulls?  You mean for the PBR?" Robby asked as they stepped into
the living room.

"Yeah, among others," Nash replied, looking quizzically at Robby as he
gestured for him to take a seat.  He walked over to a cabinet, opened a
door and pulled out an ice bucket.  He then looked through the selection of
liquor bottles and chose Belvedere Vodka and Tanqueray Gin.  "Do you follow
professional bull riding?"

"Yeah.  Me and my dad watch it all the time," Robby nodded as he slid onto
the couch and watched as Nash took the bucket into the kitchen.  He heard
the bucket filling with ice and then a few moments later Nash came back,
arms laden with the bucket, a carton of orange juice, a bottle of Schweppes
Tonic Water, a lime and a small knife.

Nash dropped several ice cubes into a tall glass, poured a measure of vodka
into it and topped it off with orange juice.  Next he mixed a gin and
tonic.  Then he expertly cut the lime into several wedges and dropped one
into the Screwdriver and two into the gin and tonic.  He picked up the
glasses and handed the Screwdriver to Robby.

Robby took a quick gulp, wincing slightly at the taste.  He noticed Nash
eyeing him curiously and took another long drink.  "What?"

"I'm not corrupting a minor or anything, am I?"  Nash asked skeptically.
"I mean, you've drank before, right?"

"Yeah," Robby shrugged, nervously shifting his feet.  "Well, just a few
beers now and then.  And I had some Jack Daniels once."  He looked up.
"Don't worry, Nash.  It's fine."

"Okay."

"What's that you're drinking?" Robby asked, changing the subject.

"Gin and tonic." He held out his glass.  "Wanna sip?"

"Sure," Robby shrugged.  He took the glass and put it to his lips.  "Oh
geez," he sputtered, quickly handing it back to Nash.  "What the heck is
that?  It tastes like pine needles!"

Nash laughed as he took a sip.  "It's an acquired taste."

"Well where did you 'acquire' it from?" Robby asked as he took a long pull
from his drink to wash away the taste of the gin.

"My Grandma turned me onto it," he replied as he took a sip.

"Well it's nasty, if you ask me," Robby shuddered.  "It's like licking a
pine cone!"

Nash smiled and took another sip.  He sat down and looked Robby straight in
the eye.  "So, what gives?" he asked, prodding gently.  "I've known you
forever, kid, and this isn't like you, so spill it."

Robby took another big drink and sat.  He was quiet for about a minute
before sighing deeply.  "It's just this whole college thing," he said
softly, slowing shaking his head as he set his glass down.

Nash leaned forward and slid a coaster toward Robby.  "What about it?"

"Well, Alex has been giving me a hard time because I picked St. Bart's and
tonight he practically went apeshit."

"Why's that?" Nash took a sip and set his glass down on a coaster.

Robby took another drink and shook his head angrily.  "He's all mad because
supposedly I'm pissing away my shot at the big time."

Nash sat back and didn't say anything, listening and taking it all in.
Robby took another drink.  His glass was almost empty now and he was
already feeling a buzz.  He hadn't eaten since lunch and the alcohol hit
him quickly.  It felt good and he relaxed a little, the words coming easier
now.  "Reese said it's because he's jealous and insecure."

"You talked to Reese?" Nash asked, leaning forward in his seat.  "When?"

"He called right after you did and we talked a little.  Maybe you can
understand what Alex is going through?"

"Why would you think that?" Nash asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"I dunno," Robby shrugged as he continued to sip at his drink.  "Maybe
because of what happened with you and Reese."

Nash arched his eyebrow.  "What do you mean," he asked slowly.  "What did
Reese say?"

Robby froze, realizing he'd said too much.  "Crap... Umm... Okay,
okay... Reese told me not to say anything about it, but..."

"But what?" Nash pressed, his eyes riveted on Robby.  Robby didn't say
anything.  "It's okay," Nash shrugged.  He tried to act nonchalantly but
inside his blood was beginning to boil.  "What did he say?"

Robby stared at his feet as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Please don't say anything to him about me saying this... but he said the
same thing happened to you and him when you got hurt in college.  Sorta.  I
mean, about you being jealous and all."

Nash felt like somebody had punched him in the gut and knocked the wind out
of him.  He quickly turned away before Robby could see the look of hurt,
and then anger, that flashed across his face.  He paused to compose himself
and catch his breath.  "Reese said that," he asked as he looked back, his
voice smooth and controlled, no hint of the betrayal he was feeling.  "He
said I was jealous?"

Robby avoided Nash's eyes as he drained his glass, his mouth filling with
ice.  "Well, maybe he didn't use the word jealous," he mumbled as he
nervously chewed on the ice.  "I don't remember exactly... But you were mad
I guess..."

"What else did he tell you?" Nash interrupted, his jaw tight.

"Nnn...nothing," Robby stammered, sipping at his empty glass.  "I don't
know what I'm saying.  I'm getting everything confused and stuff and I
shouldn't've said anything.  I mean, I don't think he meant anything bad by
it.  Really.  He even..." he stopped abruptly.  He had to stanch this flow
somehow!  "Please don't tell him I told you, okay?"

"No problem," Nash winked, his eyes narrowed.  "How about another?" he
suggested, taking Robby's glass as he quickly finished his own.  Robby
nodded meekly and handed his glass to Nash.

Nash seethed as he strode to the liquor cabinet, his body vibrating with
fury.  He couldn't believe what he'd just heard.  Jealous?!  Damn it!  How
could Reese say something like that?  He knew Reese hated him after
everything that happened - and he'd learned to live with that somehow - but
to find out that Reese thought he was jealous?  How could he ever think
that?  Especially after everything he'd done for him?

He took a deep breath as he set the glasses down, resisting the urge to
smash them.  His hands were shaking.  He looked at his reflection in the
mirror over the bar.  His blue eyes were fiery and his cheeks were flushed.
"Get a grip," he whispered as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

He struggled to internalize his rage, taking several more deep breaths to
calm himself.  He dropped fresh ice cubes into the glasses, his mind racing
as he poured gin into his glass, replaying what Robby just told him.  Why
would Reese say that?  And how could Robby even believe it?  He shook his
head, muttering to himself, as he opened the vodka and poured.  He was
about to cork the bottle but looked over his shoulder to make sure Robby
wasn't looking and poured an extra shot into the glass.  He topped it off
with orange juice.

"I gotta take a leak," he called out as he walked quickly down the hall.
Instead of going to the bathroom, though, he went to his bedroom and
rummaged through his closet until he found a box deep in the back.  He
opened it and pulled out a vial filled with small white pills and stared at
it for several moments.  Finally he nodded and smirked, unscrewed the cap
and shook one of the pills into his hand.  He walked back to bar, dropped
it into Robby's glass and swished it around with his finger.  He took one
more deep breath as he turned around.

Robby bit at his lower lip as Nash walked over and sat next to him.  "I
don't know," he said as he looked at the glass.  "I'm already buzzing after
that first one."

"Don't be such a cupcake," Nash laughed as he pushed the drink into Robby's
hand.  "You pounded that first one, now you just gotta pace yourself."

Robby nodded as he nervously sipped at his drink.  "You're not mad, are
you?  About what I said.  No... you're mad.  I can tell."

"Of course not," Nash said mendaciously with a casual wave of his hand.
"Why would I be mad?" He picked up the remote and turned on the television
and flipped through the channels until Sports Center came on.  He looked at
Robby and smiled.  "Seriously.  What happened with Reese and me was a long
time ago.  Not everybody stays friends forever."

"Sometimes I say too much," Robby said as he took another sip.  He noticed
a framed picture lying face down on the mantel and stood up.  "Who's this?"
he asked as he picked up the frame.

"Just a friend," Nash said, quickly taking the picture and setting it down.
"It must've fallen over."

"Anyway," Robby said, turning to Nash.  "I'm sorry about what I said.

"It's okay," Nash replied, struggling to keep his voice steady.  "Like I
said... ancient history."

After a few minutes Robby found he was having a hard time concentrating and
felt himself zoning out.  He touched his nose a few times and then nudged
Nash's elbow.  "I can't feel my nose," he giggled, his head cocked, unaware
that his drink had been dosed with GHB.  "Am I drunk?  I think I'm drunk!"

"What a light-weight," Nash replied jokingly.  "I didn't know you were such
a pussy!"

Robby feigned indignation and downed the rest of his drink.  "Did you call
me a pussy?" he slurred, holding out the empty glass for a refill.  "Get me
another... bitch!"

"Yessir!" Nash laughed as he stood up.  "I think you should probably spend
the night here, though, because you're in no condition to drive and your
parents'll know something's up if I drop you off.  You can crash on the
couch.  But you better call them while you can still talk clearly."

"Good idea," Robby said, struggling to get to his feet as well.  "Where's
my phone?"

"It's in your pocket," Nash pointed as he took Robby's glass to mix him
another Screwdriver.  "Or are you just happy to see me?"

"Oh," Robby giggled as he pulled his phone out and called home.  "Hey Mom,
it's me," he said, swaying slightly, the effects of the drugged alcohol
obviously hitting him.  He struggled to keep his voice level.  "I'm at
Nash's and... yeah, Nash.  Okay I will - my mom says hi!  We're talking and
stuff.... Yeah, Reese called me too... I'm just gonna crash here if you and
dad don't mind.... Cool, thanks.... Okay, see you tomorrow...  Love
ya... Bye!"

Nash handed the drink to Robby and took his BlackBerry.  He looked at it
for a few seconds, pressed a button, and put it back on the table.

"Whoahhh..." Robby said, shuddering as he took a sip of his drink.  His
eyes widened and he grimaced as he swallowed.

"It's a good thing you're not driving, huh?" Nash smiled, pretending not to
notice Robby's reaction to the drink.  He'd made it a lot stronger, knowing
Robby wouldn't say anything because it wasn't in his nature to complain.
He flopped down on the thick cushions of the sofa and motioned Robby to
join him.

Robby made his way slowly, trying not to spill his drink.  Finally it
dawned on him that if he just took a drink he wouldn't have to worry about
spilling.  He took a long drink, nearly half the glass, and didn't realize
at first that some of it had spilled over the rim and down his chin.  A
little dazedly he sat down next to Nash.

"Wow... I've never had vodka before," he said, wiping his mouth with the
back of his hand.  "I can really feel it.  And I gotta pee!  Where's the
bathroom?"

Nash laughed out loud and pointed to the hallway as Robby struggled to his
feet and staggered to the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door
all the way behind him.  A few moments later he heard the toilet flush.

"Okay, that was about the gayest thing I've ever done," Robby said loudly
as he stumbled down the hall, fumbling with his belt.

"What?" Nash laughed as he looked up.  He noticed Robby's zipper was open
but didn't say anything.  "What's the gayest thing you've ever done?"

Robby flopped onto the couch, cheeks ruddy and eyes glassy.  He saw his fly
was down and blushed as he zipped it.  "I had to sit down when I
peed... like a girl!"

"See... told you... you're a pussy," Nash chuckled, egging him on.

Robby took another long drink and set it down.  "Yeah, well I bet I can
kick your ass at this," he giggled, slurring, as he fumbled for the Wii
controller sitting on the coffee table.  He dropped it several times before
he finally gave up and leaned back against the cushions.  He giggled again
and looked over at Nash.

"Whew, it's HOT in here," he said.  His cheeks were flushed.  "Is it hot in
here?"  Without any encouragement from Nash, he stripped off his green
hoodie, his t-shirt riding up and exposing his tanned, tight abs.  Nash's
gaze lingered on the two inches or so of the white Hollister boxer briefs
that were sticking up over the waistband of his Aeropostale jeans.  Robby
finally managed to get the hoodie off and smoothed his hair.  He grinned
broadly.

"You look so much like Reese, you know that?" Nash said, the bright smile
on his face masking the sadness he felt.

"No way... shut up," Robby laughed.  He playfully swiped his arm at Nash
and missed, nearly falling off the couch.

"Dude, you're toasted," Nash laughed, shaking his head as he reached out to
catch Robby.  "I'm cutting you off."

"No, I wanna another drink," Robby protested as he stamped his foot and
scrunched up his face.  He looked at Nash and smirked.

"Okay, but it's gonna be a beer," Nash relented as he mussed his hair.
"Gotta wean you off the hard stuff."

He went to the kitchen and came back, handing Robby a Sierra Nevada Pale
Ale as well as a bottle of water.  He picked up the remote and clicked the
on-screen guide.  His eyes widened for a moment and he smirked as he
switched the channel.

"What's this?" Robby asked as the screen filled with naked flesh and
heaving bodies.

"9 1/2 Weeks," Nash replied. "You ever see it?"

Robby shook his head slowly.  His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.  "No,
what's it about?"

Nash's eyes lit up as he outlined the movie's plot, giving a blow by blow
description of some of the movie's more salacious scenes.  He watched
Robby's reactions closely.

"Wow..." Robby said softly, his hands gripping at his jeans.

Nash's lips curled in a devilish smile.  "So, what's gonna happen with you
and Sara when you go off to St. Bart's?" he asked.

Robby shrugged, his eyes still glued to the screen.  "She's going to Valpo.
It's close."

"That's not what I meant," Nash said.

Robby looked at him blankly for a moment.  "Whattaya mean then?" he asked,
his attention immediately turning back to the movie.

"You know..." Nash said, leaning forward.  He looked at Robby.  "With the
two of you.  How are you gonna... Wait a minute... are you a virgin?"

"No," Robby said quickly.  Too quickly.  Beer to his lips he glanced
quickly at Nash and found he was staring right at him.  Robby blinked and
looked away.  "Yes..." he finally said.

"So, she wants to wait?" Nash asked slowly, luring Robby into the
conversation, deliberately baiting him.

"Yes... Well, we both do..." Robby's voice trailed off.

"Why would you want to wait?" Nash asked skeptically.

"The church says..." his voice drifted off again as the action on the
screen intensified.

"That's right," Nash said softly as he glanced at the screen and then back
to Robby.  "You're Catholic.  Both you and Reese were altar boys, right?"
He watched as Robby shifted in his seat, his hand sliding up his thigh to
rest on his full crotch.  His erection was obvious through the denim and
Nash caught his breath as Robby gave it a slight squeeze.

"Boy, I bet you give that thing a pretty constant work out," he marveled,
his voice low and seductive as he began to spin his web.

Robby's cheeks reddened and he suddenly pulled his hand away.  He shook his
head and put the beer back to his lips but he didn't drink.  His hand
slowly found its way back to his crotch.

"What?" Nash asked.  "There's nothing wrong with it.  Wait... are you
saying you don't even beat off?"

"I didn't say anything," Robby replied quickly, looking away.  The room was
silent for several seconds, the only noise coming from the television.
"Besides, it's a sin," he said finally, his voice barely audible.  He took
a drink of his beer.

"You're shittin' me," Nash said incredulously.  "You don't masturbate...
Never?"

"Well, not never," Robby hedged, red-faced and clearly uncomfortable.  His
head was spinning and he felt horny.  His cock was throbbing and he pushed
down on it with the heel of his palm as stared at it, silently willing it
to behave.  "I don't like talking about it."

"Yeah, I bet," Nash said, his voice a lull.  "Especially not while you're
watching shit like this."  He looked down at Robby's crotch and the unruly
cock that was still twitching.  "Dude, that thing's gonna burst through
your pants!" he teased, jabbing him in the ribs.

"Ooooooo!!!" Robby squealed, spitting beer as he nearly jumped off the
couch.

"Are you ticklish, Robby?" Nash asked, taking his beer from his hand while
scrabbling his fingers over his abs.

"Stop," Robby panted breathlessly as he vainly attempted to bat Nash's
prying fingers away. "Stop it!"

"Oh my god, you are!!" Nash laughed.  He set the beer down and reached up
under Robby's shirt, playfully squeezing his left nipple as he dug a finger
into his belly button.  "Ha ha!"

"Mmmm..." Robby cooed as he squirmed and twisted.

"Uh oh," Nash said softly, noting how Robby's already full crotch expanded
a bit each time he played with his nipples, almost as if they were
connected.  He grabbed Robby's wrists with one hand while the other
continued to pluck his nipples.

"Awww..." Robby moaned, exhaling, as his body slumped a little.  Nobody had
ever touched him like that before.  "What're you doing, Nash? Stop..."

"Shhhh... you'll like this," Nash said softly, his lips just inches from
Robby's ear.  He blew softly on Robby's neck and into his ear, licking his
lips as the dazed teen shivered.

"Mmmm... ohhhh..." Robby grunted.  He struggled for a few more moments
before he finally relented, sinking deeply into the soft cushions, his head
lolling forward.  The euphoric effects of the GHB had fully enveloped him
now and he put up no resistance as Nash openly groped and fondled him,
cupping his crotch and firmly kneading his full balls.

"Ohhhh... mmmhhhh..." Robby moaned as the thick tube of his cock snaked up
and to the left.  For the first time in his young life, Robby Caldwell's
dick was getting hard in the hand of another person... and it was a guy.
Nash used his other hand to push Robby's t-shirt up under his armpits and
continued to play with his nipples, alternating between soft flicks and
playful tugs.  Robby sighed and moaned deeply.

"I told you you'd like it," Nash whispered, flicking his tongue over his
ear lobe, swirling it around for a brief moment.

Robby giggled at this latest sensation.  His legs were opening and closing
as Nash fondled his cock and balls, trying to trap the prying hand and stop
it, but Nash worked his knee between Robby's legs, forcing them apart and
leaving his crotch open for the taking.  Instead of moving in, though, Nash
slid his hand under Robby's butt and gave a hard tug and twist, sliding
Robby lower onto the couch while at the same time moving his body sideways
until he was lying down.  Nash then got down on the floor beside the couch
and eyed Robby's body sprawled out on the couch... t-shirt shoved under his
armpits, back arched, nipples perked, a pronounced bulge in his jeans.

"Damnnnn..." he muttered, licking his lips again.  He bent down and tongued
Robby's belly button.

"Stop..." Robby giggled, freeing one of his hands and weakly slapping at
Nash's head.  Nash grabbed Robby's hands again and held them as he resumed
jabbing at his navel with his tongue.  Then he traced his abs with his
tongue, continuing up to his chest.  He fastened his lips around Robby's
left nipple and sucked, playfully nipping at it with his teeth.

"Awww... shiiitttt..." Robby cooed, his taut body weakly bucking.  Nash
smiled wickedly and moved his head down to Robby's crotch, inhaling deeply
as he buried his face in the faded denim, muzzling the full basket.
Robby's hard dick was clearly evident through his jeans and Nash put his
mouth around it and bit down softly.

"Ohhhh... ohhh... mmmnnngghhh..." Robby grunted and whimpered.  Nash
released Robby's wrists and immediately felt hands on his head.  But
instead of pulling him away, they pushed his face down, mashing it closer.

"Yeah, that's it you horny little fucker," he chuckled as he playfully bit
his way up and down the length of Robby's dick, breathing his hot breath
onto the denim as Robby groaned softly and thrust his hips upward.  As he
did, Nash slid his hand across Robby's flat stomach, under the waist of his
jeans and the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs and let it rest on the
tip of his throbbing cock.  He slipped his other hand between Robby's legs
and pressed his thumb between the crack of his ass.

"Nooo..." Robby hissed softly, slamming his butt back down onto the couch,
but Nash didn't relent.  He continued to push his thumb upward as the
fingers of his other hand softly squeezed the expanding head of Robby's
dick.

"Unnnhhh... ooooohhh..." Robby squealed, the sensations taking him
completely off guard.  Nash wished he had a third hand so he could keep
strumming Robby's juicy nipples, but he knew if he kept it up much longer
Robby would blow a load and he didn't want that.  Not yet, anyway.  He had
other plans for him.  He abruptly pulled away and sat back on his haunches.

"You should hit the sack," he said as he stood up and pulled Robby to his
feet.  "You can sleep in the guest room."

Robby stood, a bit unsteadily, his t-shirt falling back into place.  He was
confused.  Did what he think just happened really happen?  His head was
swimming and he wasn't sure.  What the heck?  He looked at Nash as he
swayed, watching as he took the hem of his t-shirt and slowly lifted it.

"I can do that," Robby insisted, voice slurred and eyebrows furrowed in
concentration as he pushed Nash's hands away and started to tug at his
shirt.

"God, you look just like him," Nash said as he softly, but firmly, urged
and prodded Robby toward the hall leading to the guestroom.  He gently
pinned him against the wall with his left arm and then, with his right
hand, resumed his exploration of the promised land before him.

He yanked Robby's belt open and, using his thumb, deftly popped the button
of the jeans and worked the fly down.  A few tugs here and there and the
jeans were down to mid-thigh.  Robby was fully hard in his boxer briefs and
his cock was pulsing, the apparent result of Nash's continued manipulation
of his nipples.  A wet spot had formed and Nash brushed his thumb across
the tip of Robby's cock like a windshield wiper.  Back and forth.  Back and
forth.  Every time he made contact, Robby's dick throbbed and burped
another drop of pre-cum, causing the wet spot to spread.  He cupped Robby's
balls and squeezed gently, glancing up as Robby drew in a sharp breath, his
eyes were half-closed and his mouth slightly open.

Nash slowly moved him away from the wall and into the guestroom, pulling
his hands away and watching as Robby flopped onto the bed in an easy free
fall.

Robby felt like he was moving in slow motion as, warm and contented, he
landed on the bed.  His arms were splayed out and his chest rose and fell
in a steady rhythm as he felt his shoes and socks being removed.  His pants
were whisked completely off and there was a warm and wet sensation.  Was
somebody sucking his toes?!  He tried to lift his head but it felt like
there was a ten pound weight on it.  He closed his eyes.

His big toe still in his mouth, Nash looked up at Robby, sprawled out and
spinning in a drug and alcohol haze, wearing nothing but his white
Hollister underwear.  The legs of the boxer briefs were bunched up and it
looked like he was wearing briefs.  Nash let Robby's toe fall from his
mouth and he licked his lips as an idea hit him.  He rushed out of the room
and came back a few seconds later with a pair of white Calvin Klein briefs.

He grabbed the waistband of Robby's boxer briefs and slowly peeled them
down, his eyes widening as Robby's hard dick snapped up, droplets of
pre-cum spattering onto his stomach.  He touched the tip of it - smooth,
velvety, spongy - and put the finger to his lips, licking the small pearl
of pre-cum.  He reached down again and scooped another drop and smeared it
across Robby's lower lip.

"Betchya never tasted your own spunk, huh?" he chuckled and he gave Robby's
dick a few more tugs.

He pulled the boxer briefs completely off and held them to his nose,
sniffing deeply at the musky crotch before laying them gently over Robby's
nose and mouth.

As he slipped the briefs up Robby's legs he couldn't help but wonder if
Robby would look as good in briefs as Reese had.  His mind flashed back to
college and all the times he'd seen Reese...  He finished pulling them up
and after getting everything into place he took a step back.  Holy
shit... Damn!

The briefs fit Robby perfectly.  Not too tight but not loose either.  They
highlighted his every bulge, bump and curve, the soft white of the cotton
seeming to caress him.  Nash ran the palm of his hand slowly and
deliberately over every inch and then turned his hand over to let his
knuckles graze the still semi-erect cock.  His other hand slipped under
Robby's balls and he gently kneaded them as he stroked his cock back to
full staff.  He leaned forward and buried his nose in Robby's crotch,
sniffing it like a dog.  Fuck!

He left the room again and returned a few minutes later with a camera and
tripod.  He set up the tripod, picked up the camera and began to snap away.
Then he placed the camera onto the tripod and aimed it at the bed.  He
peered through the viewfinder, made a few adjustments and, satisfied with
the angle, switched on the video function.

As Robby lay there semi-conscious, not moving, his eyes half-open but not
seeing anything, Nash undid his jeans and stepped out of them.  He adjusted
his dick in his briefs and sat down next to Robby.  He noticed the calendar
on the wall above the night stand and quickly flipped the page back a few
months.  He took everything off the night stand and put them on the floor
next to the bed.

He stared intently at Robby for several seconds and then got up and
straddled his chest, leaning forward so his crotch was mere inches from
Robby's face.  Bracing himself with one hand on his headboard, he put his
other hand under the back of Robby's head and lifted it up and pressed it
into his crotch.

"Unnhhh... yeah..." he moaned, taking a deep breath as he nuzzled Robby's
nose and chin against his nuts.  He let Robby's head drop back onto the
pillow and then lowered briefs and tucked them under balls.  He grabbed his
hard dick and ran it slowly up and down the side of Robby's face, lazily
dragging it across his lips, leaving a shiny trail of pre-cum behind it.

He sat back down next to Robby, his cock still out, and grabbed Robby's
shoulders, rolling him until he was on his side.  His face was practically
in his lap.  He placed his cock to Robby's lips and pried the drugged
teen's mouth open and slid it in.

"Ouch!  Watch the teeth," he coaxed, pulling his dick out of Robby's mouth.
He leaned down and kissed Robby on the lips.  Softly at first, and then
more hungrily, forcing Robby's mouth open and swirling his tongue around.
In his dazed condition, Robby returned the kiss.

"Yeah... I'll show you, Reese," he muttered, pulling up for a moment before
resuming the kiss.  But even as he said it he questioned himself on what he
was doing what he was doing.  Was he trying to somehow hurt Reese or was he
just getting his rocks off on a look-a-like?

He sat up and pursed his lips and looked into the camera.  What the hell
was he doing?

_______________

Chapter Five

Sunlight streaming through the blinds woke Robby.  He was on his stomach on
the couch, fully dressed.  His mouth was dry and his head was pounding.  He
heard the rustle of newspaper and squinted up to see Nash sitting a few
feet away looking at him over the morning paper and drinking a cup of
coffee.

"Morning, Sunshine," he smiled, lowering the paper a few inches.  "How you
feeling?"

"Ugh," Robby groaned as he sat up.  It felt like his clothes were twisted
all around him.  He tugged at the sleeve of his t-shirt.  "What time is it?

"Quarter of ten," Nash replied, nodding to the mantle clock as he raised
the mug to his lips.  "You always sleep this late?  I've already gone for a
run, showered and did the Times crossword puzzle.  In ink."

Robby blinked slowly and swallowed.  He squinted at the clock.

"I'm kidding," Nash laughed.  "I'm only halfway finished with the crossword
puzzle."  He took another drink of coffee.  "You want some coffee?  Or how
about some breakfast?  Maybe a greasy pork chop and a cup of cold hot dog
water?"

"That's gross," Robby moaned as he held his stomach.  He licked his dry
lips.  "What happened last night?"

"What happened last night... Well, let's see," Nash smirked as he folded
the newspaper and set it down.  "You apparently mistook yourself for a
world class drinker but your sorry, light-weight ass passed out cold after
number three."

"Oh, sorry," Robby muttered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  He ran a
hand through his disheveled hair and pulled at his t-shirt again.  "I
didn't do or say anything stupid, did I?"

"Nothing worth worrying about," Nash shrugged, sipping at his coffee.
"Well, other than going on and on about how much you love Sara."

"Ohhh..." Robby groaned.  His face was turning red.  "Don't even tell me
what I said, okay?"

Nash laughed and reached over to slap Robby's knee.  "You got it, pal.  Now
how about we grab something to eat.  I know a great breakfast place a few
blocks away.  I'll drive."

_______________


END OF PART 1

It's been a couple of years since I've posted a new story, and this story
is a little different from what I normally write.  Comments are welcome.
Please direct them to stimle@yahoo.com.