Date: Mon, 30 Apr 2007 09:22:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: Kevin Carson <kc.drummerboy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Drummer Boys - Part 24

Drummer Boys
By Kevin Carson

This story is about my relationship with my friend and, well,
more-than-a-jack-off buddy.  Yes, it includes gay teen sex stuff.  It's
based on true experiences but some of the names and places have been
changed for privacy.  Hey, if this is illegal where you're at or if you're
too young to be reading this, then you better not.  Getting in trouble
isn't cool.  All rights reserved.  No reproductions permitted without prior
permission.

Thanks to everyone who has written to me.  I really appreciate your
comments/feedback and questions about this story.  My email is:
kc.drummerboy@yahoo.com.

Sincerely, Kevin.

Part 24.

Jesus Christ.  I couldn't believe what was happening.  Busted by the
police.  When it really hit me, what was happening, I thought my life was
over for sure.  I was in a state of shock, to say the least.  Scared
shitless.  The cops were knocking on the windows of the Jeep.
"Police... open up!!"  Their demand kept echoing in my ears, and it felt
like we were in slow motion.  I think I tried to put my coat up to the
window so they couldn't see in, but that was a lame effort.  Somehow... and
I don't know how... both Mark and I got our pants up and fastened as best
we could.  We didn't say a word, not even "fuck" or "shit" or "god-damn it"
under our breath.  And I was too nervous to cry, not then.  That would come
later, believe me.

The order came again: "Police officers, please roll down your window.
Now!"  Mark complied.  In reality this all probably took a few seconds, but
it seemed like hours.  One of the officers kept shining the flashlight
around the car, towards the dash, the seats, the floor, even the back seat.
The other one asked for Mark's driver's license.  He gave it to 'Officer
Flashlight', who took it back to the cruiser, I guess to check it out in
the system and run the plates, you know, to make sure we weren't escaped
convicts or on the ten-most-wanted list or anything.  You know, Mark and I
look like hardened criminals.  Well technically I guess we were "hardened"
but we weren't criminals.  That's funny now, but it sure wasn't then.

"Let me do the talking," was the only thing Mark said to me.  The cop who
stayed with us asked what we were doing there tonight, and Mark answered
"nothing."

"Wrong answer.  Try again, young man."  He was a real hard-ass.

"We were just talking," Mark said.

"Yeah... 'talking'...  What are your names?"

"Umm, my name's Mark Graham and my friend is Kevin.  Kevin Carson, sir."

A few minutes later 'Officer Flashlight' drove the police car up right
behind the Jeep.  They had kept the lights off and were originally parked
way, way behind us in the far end of the back driveway by the main parking
lot.  They had approached us on foot, that's why we didn't hear anything or
notice we were being watched.

'Officer Hard-ass' made us get out of the Jeep and get in the back of the
police car.  The lights were all so bright.  I couldn't look up; I couldn't
look anyone in the face, not even Mark.  Although I was a nervous wreck, I
was numb.  'Flashlight' told 'Hard-ass' everything checked out, you know,
with Mark's license and the plates.

They had clipboards and were asking questions, like our ages, birth dates,
addresses, phone numbers, parents' names, all that police report bullshit.
Far from relaxing, I did ease up a bit and looked at the officers briefly.
They both seemed young.  Well, one was like in his late thirties, and
'Flashlight' was maybe in his late twenties.  I guess I was fidgeting, like
moving my hands around and stuff, and 'Hard-ass' glared at me and told me
to "Sit still, will ya??"

"Were you two drinking?"

"No, sir," Mark replied, honestly.

"No alcohol, drugs, substances of any kind?"

"No, sir."

"I'll ask you again.  What were you doing out here this late?"

"Sir, we're just talking, really.  We'd been out, in the city, actually,
and we were just on our way home.  We weren't hurting anything, really,"
Mark pleaded, confidently.  I glanced up for a second.  The two cops looked
at each other, uncomfortably.  The younger one, especially, looked uneasy.

"Are you aware this is public property, and it's after hours... way after
hours.  Technically, you were trespassing...  and, you're both minors..."

"Sorry, sir, but we come here all the time.  I was never aware we weren't
allowed.  There's no sign or anything."

"All the time?  All the time??  Oh, that's just great!"

Mark was bold, but smooth, as always.  "We're really sorry, officers.
We're best friends.  Well, it's more than that, and we just had some things
to talk about.  It's not what it seems.  We weren't hurting anything,
believe me.  You're not going to call our parents, are you?"

The muffled-but-urgent, scratchy sounds of the scanner and police radio
reminded me of the police station in Palenville when we were stuck in the
snowstorm upstate going to the cabin.  That situation was a piece of cake
compared to this.  And these two cops made old Chief Grubek seem like a
pussycat.

'Hard-ass' nodded to 'Flashlight' to get out of the police car, and ordered
Mark and me to "stay put right where you are," like we were gonna go
somewhere.  They got out and walked a short distance away, out of earshot,
and I guess discussed what they were gonna do with us.  If they were gonna
hand-cuff us they would have done it by then, I thought.  I'm sure, looking
back on it now, that they were really thrown off by catching two gay
teenage boys in a sex act.

Finally, I spoke to Mark and apologized.  I took the blame for this since
it was my idea to go to "our place" instead of straight home.  Mark just
shook his head and reassured me this was no one's fault.  I can't say I was
feeling any better or any more relaxed.  I was watching the two cops
talking, then saw headlights through the rear window.  One of the cops
motioned for whoever it was to turn around.  But the person got out and it
looked like they were putting books in the night return slot.  Then they
drove away.  I couldn't make out who it was, like if I recognized them, but
they looked sorta tall.  It was almost one o'clock in the morning.  Who the
fuck would be returning books at that time of the night?

Even though it was cold, I was sweating.  Not just my forehead and under my
arms, but in weird places too. Like, I could feel sweat in the crack of my
ass.  Nervous sweat.  Worry sweat.  Uncomfortable-feeling sweat.  I wished
they would just come back to the police car and tell us what they were
gonna do and get it over with already.  They did come back, soon enough.

The older cop, 'Hard-ass', did most all of the talking, while 'Flashlight'
stayed quiet.  Speaking of "remaining silent" and the right to do so, we
were never read our rights, so I guess that meant we weren't being
arrested.

"Alright, you boys know what you were doing was wrong..." 'Hard-ass'
started in on us.

I thought, but didn't say, who is he to say what Mark and I were doing is
wrong.  What we were doing is so much the right thing for us.  No one has
the right to tell us it's wrong, but I kept those thoughts to myself.  I
didn't have the balls to get into a pissing-match with some prick cop, who
really had me by the balls, in a manner of speaking.  I wanted to say
"what's so wrong about two boys in love giving each other blowjobs."  I
wanted to tell them they needed to get real with it.  I wanted to ask what
they'd do if they caught a boy and a girl "doing it."  They'd probably get
off on seeing that, a boy and a girl together... licking, sucking,
fingering, fucking.  And I bet they have seen that a time or two.  But two
boys... that's a little out of their comfort zone.

"Yes, sir, we realize trespassing is wrong.  We'll never do it again, we
promise."

"You are both underage.  You should be home.  It's late.  It's way below
freezing.  You were putting yourselves at risk by being out here where you
don't belong.  Anything could have happened to you, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Neither of you were aware you were being approached by police officers,
but we could have been anybody.  You could have been mugged or robbed.
This is a safe community, but strange things happen to people in vulnerable
situations.  You could have been carjacked...anything."  All of a sudden
'Officer Hard-ass' was sounding like a compassionate father, really caring
about us.  Still, 'Flashlight" kept to himself.

I tried like hell to fight back the tears that were welling in my eyes.
'Flashlight' handed Mark's driver's license back to him.  'Hard-ass' was
still writing on that damn clipboard, but I had no idea what he was putting
down. Was he going to give us some kind of ticket or written warning?  How
detailed was the police report going to be?  I was imagining the worst, all
of it flashing through my mind at once.

'Officer Flashlight' finally spoke up.  "You're free to go.  That means you
go straight home.  And I mean home.  Straight home.  Understand?"

"Yes, officer, thank you." Mark said.  'Hard-ass' told us very firmly that
they better never, ever catch us there again.  Mark thanked them again, and
we got back in the Jeep in silence and left.

And that's when the tears really started to flow.  "God, Mark, what's gonna
happen?  They didn't give us anything, like a ticket," I said in between
sobs.  "I am so sorry about this, really, I am so... sorry..."

"Sweetie, it's pretty fucked up, but it's not your fault.  Stop saying
you're sorry.  It just happened, there's nothing we can do about it now.
It is what it is."

"So much for "our place," you know?  Fuck this shit.  I hate that fucking
library.  It's like I'm fucking cursed or something.  First Emily, now
this... fuck it."  We were at a traffic light and Mark put his arm around
me.

"It's alright, sweetie, it's gonna be OK."

"What makes you so sure?" I snapped.  "My life's over.  Yours too,
probably." Mark didn't deserve my lashing out at him, but I'm sure you
understand... how the fuck could I be rational at a time like that?

Mark seemed rather calm about everything.  Maybe calm isn't the word,
just... controlled.  And smart.  But me?  I was a basket case.  Not
controlled or smart at all. After all... that's why I have Mark.

"Look, let's just think about this.  They didn't give us any kind of
warning or citation or anything.  They never really came out and said
anything about what we were doing, you know.  I think they didn't know what
to say.  I think they were shocked."

"No shit.  Not half as shocked as I was.  Jesus."

"I'm just being real about it.  Think about what they could have done, but
didn't.  They could have called our parents right then and there.  They
could have hauled our asses to the police station.  They didn't.  They
could have towed the car... anything.  And nothing was said that they are
gonna do any of those things, like make us go to court or anything."

"Yeah, you're right.  I guess."

"And... no one knows about this, except the two of them and you and me.
Believe me, they don't want to go back to the police station and tell
anyone about this.  What would they say?  It was obvious they didn't know
what to do."

"How can you figure all this out?  You're so... so... smart."

"I don't know if I'm smart, but I just think they don't want to deal with
this.  They just did with us like they'd do if it were a guy and a girl,
just scare them off.  What are they gonna charge us with, public indecency?
Or maybe trespassing?  I don't think so.  The cops don't wanna deal with
shit like that.  As soon as they saw there wasn't like blood or drugs or
something, they let it go.

I just shook my head.  I was still a nervous wreck, but edging my way to
feeling slightly better about the whole thing.  "But what if it isn't like
you said?  What if they do call our folks?  Then what?"  I asked.

"We'll figure it out, sweetie.  I don't know what we'll do, but we'll
figure it out."

We were in my driveway, and of course, I started to cry again.  What the
fuck.  I couldn't help it.  I knew Mark had to leave because of going up to
Danbury the next day.  But I just didn't want to be alone.  We didn't say
anything else, we just kissed goodbye.  He drove off and I went in the
house, straight to my room.  In total darkness.

The emotion was just too much for me and I was sick to my stomach.  Yeah,
Mark's reasoning made me feel somewhat better, but now I was alone, so all
the worst thoughts came back to me.  I was totally out of it.  I felt like
I was drugged or something... I was dizzy and the room was spinning.
Somehow I ran to the bathroom and puked my guts out.

I was exhausted, but managed to pull myself together, enough to rinse my
mouth and sorta get cleaned up.  Anything sexual was the farthest thing
from my mind.  I slept in my underwear and socks, and a clean t-shirt that
I got out of my drawer.  As soon as I crawled into bed I cried myself to
sleep.  I missed Mark so much.  I thought being without him right then was
even worse that getting busted by the police in the first place.  I needed
his warmness up against my body, his arms around me.  He's my security
blanket.

I woke up Sunday in disbelief.  But reality set in, and I was sad and
worried all over again.  It was humiliating, as well as embarrassing, to
get caught by the cops, and it was taking me a while to process it all.  It
was all I could do to not call Mark.  His attention should be on his
family, instead of my problems, and I needed to respect that.  I didn't
want to keep crying on his shoulder.  I did give in and call him Sunday
night.  Rather than dwell on what happened to us, I tried to focus on how
his grandpa was feeling, stuff like that.  I was glad to hear the relief in
Mark's voice that old Grandpa Graham was going to be OK.  Mark said he'd be
going to a cardiac rehab center soon.

I kept my distance from Dad and Keith as much as possible until Tuesday
morning.  I debated whether I should walk to school, or get a ride with my
brother, so I could get there sooner to see Mark.  I took the ride.  Do you
know how difficult it was seeing him for the first time since the thing
with the cops Saturday night?  I wanted to hug him, but obviously that was
out of the question.  And I had no more tears left, so that was a good
thing.  Everyone was gathered by the Anchor.  I just told Mark we had to
talk, and I tried to smile.

I got through the morning, passing Nora once in the hall.  We nodded to
each other but didn't have time to talk, which was a good thing, because I
didn't feel like making small-talk with her, or anyone else.  I was OK
during band, because Mark was with me.  That fifty-minute time span felt
like old times.  We practiced 'His Honor' like, the whole period, and I got
through it flawlessly on snare, in spite of my worries and nervousness.
And that was for two reasons: Put Mark Graham beside me, and a pair of
sticks in my hands with a snare drum in front of me, and I can block out
the world.  At least for a while.  Mr. Walters even made a comment of
approval to me.  "Excellent job, Carson."  I blushed with pride.

After school I met up with Mark so we could walk home, but first I stopped
in the cafeteria to get a bottle of Mountain Dew.  The usual crowd
gathered, still chattering about the long weekend.  And people were asking
about how we liked 'Beauty and the Beast' and all that bullshit.  I stayed
silent, while Amy and Nora did most of the talking.  All I could think
about was what had happened in the hour or so after we had returned from
the city that night.  Mark motioned to me that we better get going.

Walking home, it wasn't quite as cold as it had been for the last few days.
I drew strength from Mark, seeing more and more that he was relieved his
grandfather was doing better.  He, at least, seemed more rested and
together than me.

"Well sweetie. The cops never called, did they?"

"No."

"See, I just figure it's over.  If they were gonna do something about our
situation they would have by now."

"I'm still a little worried, though.  I'm not convinced we're out of the
woods yet."

"You're right about that!" Mark said teasingly.  We were right there at the
entrance to Harper Woods, so we walked down the slight hill into the park
and disappeared off the main trail.  Far from the bike path, we meandered
our way through the dense trees.  It was very cloudy, so it seemed darker
than it should have been.

I was satisfied just being alone and close to Mark.  I couldn't handle
anything sexual, not even a kiss.  If we were going to do even that, it was
going to have to be in his room or my room with the door locked, period.  I
was way too gun shy.  We walked and talked until we were on the other side
of the woods, back in the residential area where we had to eventually split
up to go home.

And that's how it was for the next couple of weeks.  We walked home and
went to practices at night and at Townsend's as planned.  But things
sort-of cooled down between us sexually.  Well, not completely.  I was
hurting, though, emotionally.  We only fooled around when we stayed over at
each other's houses on the weekends.  I was still a little apprehensive,
always on-guard.  I had the feeling of someone looking over my shoulder,
someone spying on us.  I guess, a real case of paranoia.  I wondered who
would be next to catch us "doing something" in a compromising situation.
At first, even by myself, I didn't seem to jerk off as much as I used to.
I think I even went two days without playing with myself, but it got the
better of me one night in bed, and I just naturally had to get off.  But it
was very basic.  I just slid my boxers down to my knees and pumped my cock
for a few minutes until I blasted a gallon of cum into outer space.
Actually, it was just all over my stomach and my hand.  I mopped up and
fell asleep.

If I must say, in addition to Mark not only being my boyfriend, and the one
who brought me back to a comfortable level emotionally, my music was a big
part of it too.  I was excited about the concert.  I was ready.  Keith said
he was going, that there's no way he would miss it since I always go to his
sporting events.  Dad asked me if it was alright if he went with
Ms. Kirsch.  Wow.  I said sure, it was fine with me.

"Yeah, Dad, it's OK.  But no funny stuff, hear?  Like no holding hands or
anything, alright??"

"No problem." Dad reassured me.  "Deb and I are just friends." We both
smiled.

The concert was on a Friday night, crisp and clear outside.  It seemed like
spring wasn't far off.  Townsend invited the concert band, jazz band and
rock orchestra over afterward for another one of his parties.  But this one
was going to be bigger than normal.  Given the whole situation, Mark and I
decided we would not spend the night at Townsend's, should he invite us.
We were going to stay at Mark's, and that was that.  I was almost my old
self.  Almost.  I think I just needed to relax, just a bit more.

Mark picked me up at 5:30 on Friday; we had to be at the school by 6:00,
and the concert started at 7:30.  We were ready.  We had our own drum sets
completely set up at school, so that was already taken care of.  Everyone
was warming up in the band room, and Mr. Walters gave us a pep-talk.  It
was almost concert time.

The lights in the auditorium dimmed, as we took the stage.  To start the
concert, Mr. Walters made a special announcement about doing something
different, that some students were being featured to show their many skills
and varied talents.  He introduced Townsend, who told the audience we had a
special performance that he hoped might be the first of many.  Hmm.
Townsend, then, introduced his "back-up band": Eric, Matt, Scott, Mark and
me.  To my surprise, he referred to me as "his buddy, 'Rim-Shot' Kevin."

I got the 'ready' nod from Townsend, gave four clicks and he wailed the
opening lines of 'Red Hot'..."My gal is red-hot, your gal ain't doodley
squat..." The spotlight was on Townsend as he stood, knees bent, at the
piano and sang.  The only time he shared the spotlight was when the Kramers
played their guitar solos.  We rocked the house, playing way better than we
ever did in rehearsals, and got a standing ovation.  For me, personally, it
as two-and-a-half minutes of sheer musical fun.  I'll never forget how
happy Townsend was.  He's such a show-off, a real entertainer.  His piano
playing was one thing; his singing, another.  To do both at the same time
the way he did, that's talent you rarely see on a high school stage.  He
beamed the whole night.  I still listen back to the recording of us playing
that song, and I get chills.

Concert band played next, then jazz band, and finally rock orchestra.
Everything was hot, but rock orchestra took it all.  There was a brief
intermission before rock orchestra so we could re-set the stage and change
clothes.  We closed the whole concert with 'Love On A Train' by Tangerine
Dream, with Mark and me facing each other center stage, him on marimba and
me on vibes.

I was in a trance.  I had my part completely memorized, as I usually do,
but unlike in rehearsals, my eyes were fixed on Mark's, and his on mine,
during the entire song.  And it was the 'Mark Graham Signature Smile' too,
not just his piercing eyes.  Looking at him, who he is and what he
means... what he does to me, the way he's in my head... He mesmerized me.
It all clicked, finally.  That's when I realized that I really could let go
of all the stress and worry of the last few weeks.  I needed to.  Actually,
I am surprised I could concentrate on playing the song.  I was hard as a
rock, and Mark later admitted to me that he was, too.  Right there on
stage!  I'm glad our instruments hid our 'other' instruments!

So after the concert, we met everyone in the atrium... parents, friends,
whoever.  It was all pats-on-the-back and everyone congratulating us and
telling us "good job."  Everyone wanted to know what I did to earn the new
nickname 'Rim-Shot' from Townsend.  I had no idea, but thought to myself
that 'Cum-Shot' might be more fitting!

We excelled, and I was proud.  It's what I lived for, to be a really good
musician.  And it was even more of a dream-come-true, playing drums right
there beside Mark.  It's where we belong, with everything we do.  Right
there, beside each other.

We caught up with Mr. and Mrs. Graham, who had sat with Dad and Ms. Kirsch.
I reminded Dad I was going to the Miller's for the party with Mark, then I
was staying over at Mark's house.  And of course we talked with Townsend's
parents, who we rarely ever see.  We lingered and lingered, hanging with
Nora and Amy, Lisa and Keith, and lots of others.  Lisa gave me a kiss and
Keith gave me a dirty look.  What's he thinking?  That I'm gonna steal her
away??  Finally we had enough and left for Townsend's.

The party was more of the same old, same old, so after a few snacks Mark
and I left.  I was ready to snack on something else.  No one was home at
Mark's house, and we kissed as soon as we got in the family room, the room
where it all began.  I sort-of felt the same way, all over again.  Wanting
and wanted, needing to relax and be reassured.

Yeah, I wanted him, he wanted me. I was still just a wee bit nervous and
Mark worked his magic, reassuring me once more.  But before we go too
relaxed we slipped off to Mark's room.  The lights were still off, and I
started to get undressed while Mark went to the bathroom.  I waited and
waited, but he never came back.  I wondered what the fuck was going on, if
he was OK.  I went to check on him, and I could hear the shower running.
He pulled me into the steamy bathroom, shut the door and shoved me up
against it, hard.  He kissed me, hard, ramming his tongue down my throat.
Mark's dick was hard, and after that surprise love attack, mine was too!
Instantly!

We peeled off what clothing we still had on and got in the shower together.
Mark washed me, rubbing the bar of soap and his sudsy hands all over me.
He slid the bar in my asscrack and I shivered with delight.  He kissed and
licked his way around my ears, my neck, to my nipples and shoulder blades.
He kissed my balls, then rubbed soap on them and played with them, which
drove me crazy.  He got on his knees, letting the water spray him in the
face.

"Do you like that, sweetie?" he asked.

"Uh-huh" was all I could mutter, in between the moans of oh's and aahhh's.

He soaped up a finger and rubbed it around my hole, while he kissed and
nibbled on my throbbing cock.  Then he swallowed me entirely and slid his
middle finger up my ass at the same time.  I squeezed my butt cheeks
together around his finger as he squeezed his lips around my dick.  He
sucked and slurped up my surges of precum, and rotated his finger in me as
I relaxed my hole, after that initial jolt.

"Wow, I didn't expect all this." I whispered.  I had one hand on Mark's
shoulder and the other against the tile shower wall to keep my balance.

"The hell you didn't!" Mark giggled.  "You know you need to relax and calm
down, and this is how I get you to do it.  You know that!"

"OHHHHH!!! Damn dude!"  I screamed, as he swirled his tongue around the
head of my cock and tugged on my slippery balls.  "I'm gonna cum!!"

Suddenly, he stopped and stood up.  "No you're not.  Not yet."  Then he
kissed me again, arms around my shoulders, holding me tight.  We were
drenched by the hot spray as we pressed our hard, throbbing dicks together.
Finally, Mark turned off the shower, grabbed a towel and dried us off,
kissing my neck and back.  "Come on, let's go to bed..."

And we did.  We got in his bed, hard, naked, and clean.  We still had some
more "relaxing" to do.  But first, we lay there, beside each other, arms
and legs intertwined.  More in love, I think, than ever before, if that's
possible.

And you know what?  I was relaxed.  Because Mark and I were right
there... beside each other, where we belong.

(To be continued...)