Date: Sun, 6 Dec 2015 23:00:01 -0500
From: Roe St. Alee <roesaintalee@hotmail.com>
Subject: How I Got Carter 15

This story contains sexual content, involving high school age males. If
this offends you, please leave this page immediately. This story is a work
of fiction, and any similarities to real life people, places, and
situations is purely a coincidence.

If the above does not offend you, please enjoy!  Your questions and
comments are always welcome, so email me at roesaintalee@hotmail.com.

Sorry for the delay, as always.  I'm just glad to have another chapter out
for you all.

Don't forget to donate to Nifty, and keep this site thriving.

Enjoy!

-------       -------       -------       -------


The next few weeks are a blur.  With November quickly approaching, my world
is ramping up on all fronts.  Now that we've settled into our routines at
school, my teachers are starting to assign papers, reports, and midterm
projects.  We've played our first handful of games in soccer, and division
play has started, which means we have games two or even three days a week
now, with practice on all the days in between to hopefully revise our
strategies and catch our breath a bit before our next game.

And that's only the beginning.  Drama auditions came and went, and much to
my surprise Katy won't be the only star player this season at the theater.
My hard work and practice with Amhearst High's most talented thespian must
have paid off, because when I check my name on the assignment sheet taped
to the outside of the drama classroom door, my name is written right next
to the role of "Puck."  Three days a week after soccer practice now I can
count on heading back into the locker room, showering off as fast as I can
and running back across the school to play practice.

But most importantly, there's Carter.

Every minute I can find outside of soccer, drama, homework, and chores I'm
spending with the one and only Carter Mulkins.  Granted, those minutes need
to co-occupy the same minutes that Carter isn't busy with school, homework,
and football - so there aren't too many to go around, but I'm loving every
single one I can get.

It's not just the time I spend with him, either.  It's everything.
Everything I do is better because of him.  At home on a Sunday doing
chores, I find that I don't mind the hour or so it takes me to clean up and
vacuum the house, because I'm interrupted halfway through by a text message
from Carter.  Homework is a breeze, because I take a break after a few math
problems and daydream about the next time I'll see him.

I'm starting to understand how everyone could tell when things started
happening a few weeks ago.  It's not like I was singing a joyful tune at
the breakfast table that morning or running down the hallways of school
shouting the news at the top of my lungs.  But inside, whether I
consciously knew it at the time, I was full to bursting with a special sort
of happiness that you might call "Carter."

A few weeks later, it sure as heck hasn't worn off.

Unfortunately, not everyone is as stoked on life as I am.  Ko, for one, has
not been taking it well that I'm involved with anyone, and he's been mopey
and whining up a storm about everything recently.  For once the tables are
turned and it's me getting some action while Ko is sitting deep in a dry
spell.  I don't feel bad for him in the least, but it's made him a bit
difficult to work with.

"Complain, complain, complain," Katy says, putting her hands on her hips
and tapping her foot impatiently.  "You can moan about it all day, but are
you going to go to the game or not?"

Ko rolls his eyes and does his best to look as disinterested as possible,
but I know how he works.  Sure, a big football game is not high on his list
of exciting things to do on a Friday night, but Katy and I are his best
friends, and if he doesn't hang out with us he probably won't do much of
anything.  Especially as he currently is without a girlfriend, or whatever
the equivalent is for some who likes to play the field as much as Ko.

"It's not my scene," he whines.  "Take me to a soccer game any day of the
week, but football?!"

It's almost a tradition at this point.  Friday comes and I talk to Ko about
going to the football game during study hall.  He refuses.  I text Katy and
tell her to start bothering him about it.  She tracks him down at some
point during the day and demands that he attend.  With her persistence and
pressure he cracks, then he steels his reserve all afternoon to make one
final stand before our last class on Friday.

"Are you going to go or not?" I ask.  "As much as I love to stand here and
watch you break under pressure, ultimately giving in and agreeing to come
to the game with us, your best friends, I need to get back to class before
the bell rings."

"Arghhhh!" Ko throws his hands up in frustration.  "I don't want to go, and
that's final."

Katy smiles wickedly and slaps one of his upraised hands like he was
looking to get a high five.  He wasn't.  "But you ARE going, and that's
final too," she says.

"What if instead of going to the game we go see the new Spiderman movie and
then we go play video games at my house?"  A feeble attempt.  Any other day
of the week, maybe.  But on a home football Friday he's not going to get
any traction with that argument.

"Not a chance," Katy says, shaking her head decisively.  "There's only four
games left this year, and I want to go.  And Jackson..."

"Wants to go watch his boyfriend run around groping a bunch of dudes in
tight pants," Ko finishes.

"Shut up!"  I look down the hall, but no one seems to have noticed Ko's
accusation.  "He's not my boyfriend!" I insist in a whisper.

Ko sighs.  "Fine," he concedes, "we can go watch your boyfriend."

I bristle again and try to silence Ko, but Katy is too pleased with herself
to help me out.  I guess Ko has decided to trade his Friday night freedom
for the chance to make fun of me for having a crush on Carter.  If that's
what it takes, I can live with it.

"Just in time," Katy says, glancing down at her watch.  "I need to run to
class, boys.  I can drive tonight, I'll pick you up at 6!"  With a
dramatically blown kiss, Katy does an about face and runs down the hall to
her next class.  I'm not sure how many seventeen year olds can run in high
heels, but unsurprisingly – to me at least – Katy is one of them.

"Well?" Ko asks.  "Are you going to stand here and gloat, or do you need to
run off to class to flirt with your boy toy?"

"Stop!" I plead.  Ko's locker is right across the hall from the chemistry
lab, and Carter or some other one of our classmates could walk by at any
second.  I know he's ticked off that we've yet again ganged up and forced
him into watching a football game, but he shouldn't take it out on me,
cathartic as it must be.

He slams his locker and slings his bag over his shoulder.  "You get it all
at the end of the day, don't complain."

With that, he walks off to his next class, leaving me practically alone in
the hallway.  Taking it as a sign that I am running very late, I hurry back
into chem lab just as the bell rings.  Thank goodness our pow wows are
right across the hall.

Walking back into the room, I think more about Ko's reaction to our
badgering.  I get it all?  What's that supposed to mean?  Sure I'm making
progress with Carter, but I'm not letting myself get too hopeful.

I head to my usual desk in the back corner of the room.  Chemistry is a
double period, and on days when we don't have a lab scheduled we usually
get the second half of class as a sort of study hall to work on our
omnipresent lab writeups and homework.  For how much of a stickler he is,
Nizen is pretty casual about our off days in the classroom.  As long as
we're doing something productive and working on chemistry in some way or
another, he doesn't mind if we talk.

In other words, it's a prime opportunity to flirt with Carter.

I was a little bit late getting back into class, so by the time I get
settled into my chair and get my books out, Carter's nose is already buried
in his own.  I try to take a mental snapshot of how he looks, so focused
and serious.  It's so determined and adult and... sexy.  Careful not to
stare too long, I start working on my first problem.  I force myself to get
one question finished before I shift my focus back to the beautiful boy
next to me.

"Ready for your game tonight?" I ask.

"Yeah, I guess so," he responds.  He still hasn't looked up from his work,
but I know how to get his attention.

"You guess so?" I fire back.  "It's a conference game, you guys need to
win!"

He laughs and puts his pencil down to look up at me.  "You don't have to
pretend you care that much about the Eagles," he says, "I know you don't."

"I do too," I respond with admittedly less conviction than I should.

"No you don't..." Carter looks back down at his homework, but he's smiling
now.  God, I'll never get sick of knowing that I can make him smile.

For being a pretty big deal on the football team, Carter doesn't actually
talk about it much.  He'll tell me about funny stuff that happens at
practice or the latest gossip about his teammates, but it's strangely hard
to get him to open up about the game itself.  I'm not sure if he holds back
for my sake or his own, but I don't mind it.  A lot of the other guys on
the team live and breathe pigskin – it's all they ever talk about.

Next it's Carter who breaks our studious silence.

"You're going to the game?" he asks.

"Yeah, definitely," I say, "Someone needs to give you tips at halftime,
right?"

He laughs again.  "Yeah?  What did you see last game?"

"Well..." I try to rack my brain for anything I can criticize.  It was
definitely an empty threat for my part.  I know football well enough to
enjoy watching it, but that's about the extent of my knowledge.  Our last
game was at a private school just a few miles away, so a lot of people went
even though it was an away game.  Carter pulled in a touchdown with a
really nice catch in the third quarter, and we won by two or three scores.
Not a lot to complain about.

"Your touchdown celebration," I finally settle on.  "Not your best effort."

"Oh really?" he questions, his lips curled into a wry smile.  "And with
your drama background, you could give me some pointers?"

I shrug and shake my head.  "I think it's just an intrinsic skill.  You've
either got it or you don't.  It's all in the hips."

He makes eye contact and gives me a peculiar look.  It makes me want to
melt.

"And you're gonna teach me how to use my hips?"

I will my face not to turn beet red.  Whether he was trying to be dirty or
not, I wish we were having this conversation somewhere other than the
chemistry classroom.  I'd love to be involved on decisions regarding the
movement of Carter's hips.

He chuckles smugly to himself.  "What are you doing after the game?"

My stomach does a backflip and there's no longer any hope that I'm not
flushed.  The unspoken "speaking of which" before his question was
abundantly clear.

"Uhhh, nothing," I stammer.

"You want to hang out?"

"Yeah," I say weakly, "your place or mine?"  If I was standing up right
now, I'd probably need to sit down.  This shit makes me rubbery in the
knees.

To anyone else, I'm sure it sounds like we're just setting up some time to
hang out, play video games, watch sports, or whatever.  Typical guy stuff.
But the implication is obvious to me, and I know it's obvious to Carter
too.

This is how it's been going for the last few weeks.  We've settled into
this sort of casual, easy routine of hanging out and hooking up.  We'll
knock out some homework, play video games for a while, and then it's only a
matter of time until the conversation turns.  It'll just be a look or a
word or a suggestion.  We don't talk about it, but it's like a switch flips
and next thing we know pants are off and hands are wandering.

It's fucking awesome.

Mostly we've been hanging out at my place, which is less exciting in terms
of the video games, but plenty exciting in terms of what's been happening
afterward.  So far, I've given Carter no less than five handjobs and two
blowjobs, and he's jerked me off six times.  I've been hoping against all
hope that he'll go down on me, and this weekend was looking promising.
This could be it!

"We can hang at my house," he says.  A smile slowly makes its way across
his lips.  "Actually, I forgot.  I have a surprise for you."

I swallow hard.  A surprise?  This could be even better than I was hoping
for.

After a few seconds of me waiting for more information or another teaser, I
realize that Carter doesn't have anything else to say about it.  He can't
just leave me hanging like that!

"A surprise?" I ask, doing my best to pretend I'm not incredibly interested
in finding out what it is.

"Hmm?" Carter is looking back into his textbook as though our conversation
hasn't even been happening, and that my mention of a surprise is completely
off the wall.  Maybe he could teach me a thing or two about drama.

Before I can pry further into the matter, we're interrupted by a quick
double vibrate from Carter's phone.  Text message.

Carter takes a quick look to the front of the room to make sure Nizen isn't
watching us and then checks his phone.  His face falls and he puts his
phone back down, now scowling into his book.  I wonder what that's about.

I try to think of a clandestine way to ask him what the deal is with the
text he just got, but I can't think of one.  Finally it's Carter who breaks
the silence.

"Anyway," he says, "yeah, there's a surprise."  Again he doesn't take his
eyes off his book.  He's back to his normal self, messing with me.
Whatever fleeting cloud passed over his head a second ago, it's gone now.

Rather than give him the satisfaction of me groveling before him for more
details on his surprise, I open up my own textbook and get to work on some
of my homework for Monday.  I can be patient.  I don't need to know what
the surprise is.  He can't always put me on edge like this.

At least that's what I'm telling myself.

*******

I'm already worried in only the short time it takes to walk from my front
door out to the road, where Katy's sedan is waiting for me.  Surprisingly,
I'm not talking about the football game or hanging out with Carter
afterward.  For now I'm just worried that I didn't dress well for the game.
It's in the 40s already, and I think it's only going to get colder.

I step into the car, which is about eighty degrees warmer than outside, and
I'm thankful for once that both Ko and Katy are complete babies when it
comes to the cold.  Usually I'm sweating to death in either of their cars,
but today it's a welcome relief from the bitter weather outside.  After our
usual greetings, we head off toward the stadium.

"Why are we going to this game again?" Ko asks about halfway through the
twelve minute drive to our school's sports complex.

Even from the back seat I can tell Katy is rolling her eyes.  I don't need
to see it, I can feel it.  "Because you are seventeen, in high school in
the Midwest, and this is what you do on a Friday night."

"What if this isn't what I want to do on a Friday night?  What if I can
think of about twenty other things I'd rather be doing on a Friday night?"
he asks, more whining rhetorically than actually looking for any kind of
answer.

Katy sighs before reengaging.  "When you agreed to come to the game this
afternoon, I distinctly remember you promising not to be a baby about it.
Jackson, do you recall this?"

"Nope," I say, prompting Katy to turn back and glare at me for a split
second.  "I remember Ko promising not to be a HUGE baby about it."

"I'm not being a huge baby," Ko says, "I'm just seeing if by some miracle I
can get you both to change your minds at the last minute and we can go do
something..."

"Not happening," I say before he even has the chance to finish.

"I know I'm not going to convince you," he fires back, emphasizing the word
'you.'  "But I thought there might still be hope for Katy.  You need to go
to the game to see your boyfriend play football."

"He's not my boyfriend!"

I regret how worked up I was instantly as I see the edge of Ko's smile.  I
forgot that Ko's plan to amuse himself tonight is to bust my balls about
Carter.  I can't bite when he dangles bait out there in front of me.
Luckily Katy jumps back into the conversation to rebuke Ko one last time.

"We're going to the game," she says in a motherly tone, "and that's final.
You can sit there and mope all night if you want, or you try to have a good
time."

Ko stares out the window and sulks dramatically, apparently choosing the
former.  "I don't wanna have a good time..." he mutters to himself.  Katy
and I talk football the rest of the ride, and Ko continues giving us the
silent treatment.

By the time we get to the stadium from the parking lot, the first quarter
is practically over.  I promised Carter I would go to the game, but I never
said that I would be on time, right?

As we approach the entrance gate, Katy digs through her purse for our
tickets and finally manages to find them among the bobby pins, chap stick,
makeup, chewing gum, and whatever else girls keep in their purses.  Tickets
in hand, we step up to the ticket checker, an older fellow who is
completely decked out in our school colors from head to toe.  It's bad
enough that we're rolling up late, but this guy puts us to shame in the
school spirit department.  We hand him our tickets and try not to look too
out of place.

"Hold on just a second..."  He squints his eyes and looks the three of us
up and down.  "The three of you are Eagles fans?"

We all steal furtive glances at each other before looking back up to him
and nodding as earnestly as possible.

"Huh," he says as though he doesn't believe it for a second.  "I'm not so
sure.  You see, I only let Eagles fans through my gate, and I don't see a
single piece of school spirit on any of you."

I look at Katy and Ko and realize that he's absolutely right.  Not one of
us wore anything school related.  Unfortunately we didn't realize that we'd
be stopped and interrogated by a superfan on the way into the game.

"It's cold," Katy says as cutely as possible, flashing her biggest, most
innocent smile.  "We had to wear all our warm clothes for the game."

"Hmmph," the old man replies.  "I'll let you in.  But you might want to
stop at the souvenir tent and get yourself a nice Eagles scarf or maybe a
hat."

We all nod in agreement.

"Big game tonight, huh?" he says as he rips the short ends off all of our
tickets.

"Yeah," Ko says, "it sure is."  I wonder if it's as clear to the ticket
checker as it is to me and Katy that he has absolutely no idea what he's
talking about.

"What do you think?" he continues.  "If we win tonight do you think we have
a shot at the conference?"  Apparently the old man either hasn't figured it
out yet, or wants to test us one more time before letting us enter the
stadium.

"Uhhh..."  It's too late now to back down.  "I think that..."  Ko looks
over to me for help.  Getting nothing, he looks to Katy.  She shrugs.  "I
think that anything could happen?"

The ticket checker looks at him suspiciously for a second, then smiles and
claps him hard on the back.  "That's the spirit!"  He waves us through the
gate.  "Enjoy the game, you three.  Go Eagles!"

"Go Eagles..." we all murmur, trying not to laugh.

We do a quick lap around the stadium and by a stroke of luck manage to find
decent seats in the eighth row right above the 30 yard line.  We make our
way across the row and I glance up at the scoreboard.  It's the beginning
of the second quarter, and the Eagles trail 0-7.  Not the score I was
hoping for, but at least I didn't miss any of the offensive action.  Then
I'd have to figure out if Carter scored a touchdown or not, and make sure I
knew exactly what happened, and then lie about it later and pretend I
watched the whole thing.

I get my head in the game and figure out where things stand.  Looks like we
have the Beavers backed up deep on their side of the field, and it's 3rd
down.  If we can force a punt, we should have decent field position on our
next possession.  I glance over to either side of me and wish that I could
talk about something like this with either Katy, who is paying close
attention (but only to the hot boys running around the field), and Ko, who
is furiously texting away on his phone.

The Beavers fail to get the first down and punt the ball back just past the
50 yard line.  As the return team celebrates the field position and comes
back to the bench, I get my first good look at Carter as he comes onto the
field.

If I didn't know his jersey number – 87, just like his favorite player,
Jordy Nelson – I would still be able to spot Carter from a mile away
even with a helmet and pads on.  It's something about the way he walks.
The easygoing confidence in his stride, the flawless shape and definition
of every part and aspect of his body squeezed into that football uniform.
It's the epitome of perfection, and I find myself slack-jawed every time I
see it.

At practice, if we ever happen to bump into the football team, I find it
impossible to take my eyes off him.  But here tonight under the lights with
the crowd cheering around me as the offensive squad takes the field, it's
all I can do not to get out of my seat, jump the fence, and tackle that boy
myself.

"Uff!"

A sharp pain in my ribs interrupts my reflection on the beauty of Carter
Mulkins.  I look over at Ko, who has put his phone away in favor of jabbing
me in the side with one of his elbows.  He's wielding one of his biggest,
shit-eating grins.  Which is not that uncommon, but it still bothers me.

"What was that for, asshole?" I ask indignantly.

"Look who it is," he says gleefully, directing me to the field with his
eyes.  "It's your not boyfriend."

"Shut up, he's not my... Shit.  You know what I mean."

Ko grins to himself like the Cheshire Cat at his trick, and surprisingly
turns back to watch the game.  I look to Katy for support but she just
shrugs at me.

"He's looking damn good in that uniform, I don't blame you for staring,"
she says.

"It's a football game, of course I'm staring at it, that's what you do!"

Ko sniggers and I can feel my cheeks getting color.  There's no winning
with these two.

The offense lines up and progresses down the field in short order.  A few
running plays to pick up some yards, a nice screen pass to the tight end
for a gain of 15, and then a short pass up the middle to Carter.  We reach
the 15 before getting jammed up on a few plays, bring us to a 3rd and 11.

The quarterback takes the snap and throws a quick pump fake before twisting
to his left and handing the ball off to our running back, Wes Wayton.  Wes
runs to the outside and finds a little space, picking up a handful of
yards.  He jukes his way past two more defenders, and breaks for the end
zone.  There's only one defender between him and the end zone now, and BAM!
Carter flies in from the outside and throws a massive block, clearing the
lane for an easy touchdown.

The fans go crazy, and even Ko is swept up in the euphoria of a touchdown.
We jump around, hug, and high five all the strangers around us in
celebration.  Even though he wasn't the one holding the ball, I'm so proud
of Carter for making that play.  There's no glory in throwing a block, but
if he hadn't done it, we wouldn't all be on our feet right now screaming
the fight song.

After things settle down, I decide to shoot Carter a text.  He probably
won't see it, but what the hell?

[ Nice block out there :) ]

I think about texting more, maybe something along the lines of "I want to
get you naked and have my way with you," but I decide against it, even
though my fingers are just itching to type it.  Maybe if he gets a
touchdown of his own.

The next few possessions come and go with little in the way of an offensive
spark, and before we know it, the whistle blows on the end of the 2nd
quarter.  Both teams head back to their locker rooms to talk about their
strategy or whatever it is football teams talk about at halftime.  I make a
mental note to ask Carter next time I see him.  Tied at 7-7 it's still
anyone's game, but I'm feeling good about it.  We're playing well, and the
tide seems to be shifting in our favor, slowly but surely.

The band is starting to play their entrance cadence when Katy suddenly pops
to her feet.

"It's freezing!" she exclaims.  "Do you guys want some hot chocolate?"

Ko and I both respond affirmatively and Katy bobs and weaves her way down
the bleachers without so much as a goodbye.  When she reaches the ground I
see a tall figure in a varsity jacket at the bottom of the stands.  Of
course.  Jeff.

He and Katy are still head over heels for each other, but aren't an
official item for whatever reason.  If I ask Katy about it, she just
responds cryptically about waiting until the right time and not rushing
into things.  Whatever.  If you're obviously right for each other, you
should just date.  It doesn't seem that complicated to me.

Our numbers reduced, Ko and I scoot closer together and huddle for warmth.
I had already noticed the chill in the air since walking out to the car all
the way back at my house, but now that Katy mentioned it - excuse to hang
out with her boy toy or not - I'm feeling it a lot more.  We sit in silence
for a minute or two and try to think warm thoughts.  At least that's what
I'm thinking about, and I assume Ko is doing the same.  He has a warmer
jacket than I do, but he's a lot thinner than me, which is saying
something.

The Beavers marching band plays their first song, a Michael Jackson mashup,
and Ko and I both watch with a moderate amount of attention and enthusiasm.
Their band is about the same as ours – decent, but not spectacular.  The
break between songs lags on a few seconds longer than it needs to and Ko
breaks the silence between us.

"Not a lot of production from your not-boyfriend out there tonight," he
cracks.

"He's..." I stop myself, finally learning my lesson and not acknowledging
his joke.  "He's doing what he can.  They've only thrown him the ball twice
so far."

"Yeah, I guess," he responds.  "He had a nice block on that touchdown
though."

I'm pleasantly taken aback at Ko making that comment.  For one, he said
something nice instead of being a brat.  Second, he was paying attention to
football for possibly the first time in his life.  As much as we give him
crap for not caring about sports, he's smart and perceptive.  He could get
into sports if he tried.

"We're worried."

I'm snapped out of my pride and admiration in a heartbeat.  A second ago he
was being cool, but now he's trying to take the conversation some place
else, and I don't like it.

"What do you mean by that?" I shoot back at him.

The insinuation is clear, but I want him to spell it out for me.  We're
talking about Carter.  I've never gotten the feeling that Ko is especially
fond of Carter, and he's been making snarky remarks about it all night.  If
he has an issue, I think it's high time he come out and say it.

"Carter," he says, and leaves the word hanging in the air.  I let the name
ring in the silence between songs for the world's longest several seconds.
Thankfully the band starts playing again before I have to respond.  But Ko
is a master manipulator, and try as I might to not let it bother me, he
always knows exactly what to say to get me worked up.

"Come on," he insists, "I know you want to talk about him."

"What do I have to talk to you about?!" I shout back.  I try not to get
baited into it, but Ko's persistence is second only to Katy's, and he knows
me even better than she does.

"You know exactly what I mean," he says.  "And you're yelling, so I think
you're probably worried about the same thing we are, too.

I want to tell him that I'm not pissed off about it, and that I'm only
yelling because the marching band is playing, but that's not it.  He's
right of course.  But fuck him.

I let my thoughts ruminate a bit while the marching band wraps up their
song.  Shouting this conversation is only going to make it worse, and I
need a second to think.  It's obvious what Ko's driving at.  He thinks
Carter isn't in to me at all, and that he's just enjoying himself without
any attachment.  Basically I'm spending every minute with him getting more
and more involved, and Carter's just hanging out with his friend Jackson.
I get it, but I don't believe it.

Finally they finish playing and start their exit routine and I turn back to
Ko to continue.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say," I tell him.  "Carter and I are
hanging out, and that's more than I ever thought would happen.  I'd call
that a win.  And whatever happens happens."

Ko looks at me skeptically.  "Is that really how you see it though?"

"I... I don't know!" I stammer.  I really don't.  I can tell myself a
thousand times that I feel one way or the other about it, but I still can't
put my finger on it.

Ko puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a little bit of a
side hug.  "We just don't want you to get hurt, Jackson," he says.  "So
don't let yourself get shit on.  When you hang out tonight, think about it.
If I'm wrong – and I seriously hope that we're totally wrong – you're
going going to be so stoked about it that you won't even be mad at me."

I stare daggers at him, but I still lean into his embrace.  Asshole.  He
always makes such a good argument, and I know he's coming from a good
place.  If Ko's wrong about me and Carter I won't hold it against him.  I
will instead proudly hold my body against Carter's, and I'll be damn glad
that I'm doing it.

"What the hell guys?  Did you already talk about it?"

Katy stands over us, carefully balancing three steaming hot cups of hot
chocolate between her hands.  She looks back and forth between me and Ko
and few times then comes to the conclusion that she has in fact missed our
entire heart to heart.

"Well, fine."  She sits down in a huff and begrudgingly hand us both our
beverages.  Seeing that she's chosen to pout about it, I figure I should at
least let her know that her message got through to me loud and clear.

"Don't worry," I tell her, "Ko made your point."

"He wasn't too mean about it, was he?"

That manages to get a laugh out of me, and between the hot chocolate and
the fact that my two best friends care about me enough to brave an awkward
conversation while a marching band is playing, I decide that I actually
feel a little bit better.

It's annoying that Katy and Ko are so up my butt about my personal
business, but that's exactly what I need them to do.  I've been worrying
about this exact same thing non-stop since the day Carter drunkenly tried
to make out with me at that party during the summer.  And the more we've
hung out, and the more we've fooled around, the more it's made me wonder.
What am I to Carter?

I suddenly feel a vibration in my pocket.  Text message.  I can feel my
heart racing before I even pull out my phone.  It's Carter, I know it is.

[ Don't worry, I got a TD for you in the 2nd half ;) ]

Despite how cold it is, I feel myself start to sweat.  Why does Carter say
things like that if he doesn't like me for real.  I know we're friends and
all, but I guarantee he isn't texting other dudes from class that he's
going to score a touchdown for them.

I consider showing the message to Ko and Katy, but decide against it.
They've made their case, and I need to fly solo for the rest of the night
on this one.  I've been wondering about all this longer than either of them
have, and I'm the one who needs to get to the bottom of it.

But how?

Thankfully I don't have to think about it any more, because the horn
suddenly rings to signal the end of halftime, and the home crowd roars as
the Eagles jog back onto the field from underneath our bleachers.  It's a
Friday night in the fall, the game is tied, and there are conference title
implications.  Even Ko can't stay seated as the team pours out of the
locker room for the third quarter.

The Eagles get the ball to start the half, and after a short glimmer of
hope and a handful of first downs, are forced to punt.  The Beavers don't
even fare as well as that, and they punt the ball back to the home team.
Things go on like this through the rest of the 3rd, and both teams manage
to pick up a field goal to keep the game tied.

Finally, with 8:21 left in the 4th quarter, the Eagles start to get
something going.  They break off a huge run to the weak side, and then
strike quickly with two short passes for another first down.  The crowd
starts adding a bit more noise and excitement, and the momentum continues
to build with two more nice rushes for another first down.  1st and 10 on
the Beavers 26.

Our quarterback scrambles on the next play for 9 yards, setting up the the
ultimate red zone situation.  It's 2nd and short, within striking distance
of the goal.  This is what defenses hate.  Literally every play is a good
option for the offense.  The obvious choice would be a quick draw for the
1st down.  But if the defense plans on that, maybe you could go for a big
passing play?  But then again, if you try to stop the pass, maybe they'll
throw a screen or run to the outside.  The list goes on.  This could be
huge for the Eagles.

Carter lines up wide on the left side.  The quarterback takes the snap and
drops three steps.  He looks to the left side just as Carter hooks back in
towards the line of scrimmage and...

Pump fake left.  The quarterback lobs the ball into the back right corner
of the end zone and...

Touchdown Eagles!

The stadium erupts and the band blares the fight song across the field.
What a play!

The cheering hardly subsides by the time the Eagles hit the extra point,
and no one in the stands has sat back down as they line up for the kickoff.
One thing is abundantly clear though, the momentum of this game has
shifted.  The Beavers' offense hasn't done much all game, but now with the
crowd back into it and less than seven minutes remaining, a comeback might
be out of the question.  There's only one little issue.

Carter still owes me that touchdown.

I crunch the numbers in my head and figure that the Eagles should get the
ball back at least once before the game is over.  However, they'll be
trying to kill time when they get it, so they might not pass it again.
Honestly Carter's best chance might be if the Beavers score.  I know it's
wrong to root against my own team like this, but I really want that
touchdown.

Shockingly, the Beavers are able to overcome their surroundings and move
the football.  They pick up a few successful plays, and then build on their
new found momentum with a big gain, taking the ball up to almost the fifty.
Maybe I'll get my wish after all.

The next play, however, does not go well for the Beavers.  The quarterback
is under pressure and scrambles wide to the outside to escape one of our
biggest, scariest linebackers.  I don't blame the guy for running away!  He
spots a receiver down the field, pulls his throwing hand back, and...

BAM!

He gets hit in the back and the ball flies out of his hand, just before he
manages to throw.  It's a fumble!  Everyone dives for the ball at once, and
after a few seconds half the players from each team are part of a huge pile
of sweaty boys, all waiting for the referee to tell them who came out on
top.  I could see myself rather enjoying being a part of a pileup like
that, and I sort of regret the fact that soccer doesn't afford any similar
opportunities.

After a decent amount of time spent trying to disentangle everyone, the
main referee blows his whistle and points down towards the far end zone.
Eagles ball!

The fans go crazy one more time as the offense takes the field.  It's
likely that we'll just run out the clock as much as we can, but I still
have a little hope that they might try throwing the ball to Carter a few
more times.  After two quick running plays though, it seems unlikely that
it will happen.

The next play is another easy handoff to the.. wait, no it's not!  The
quarterback and halfback made a brilliant fake, and as most of the defense
tries to chase down the running back on the right side, the QB slips off to
the left more or less unnoticed.  He has a man open down field, unleashes a
big pass, and...

It's caught by Carter!  He had his man beat by a few steps when he made the
catch and doesn't let up a bit on his way to the end zone.  Touchdown
Eagles!  And perhaps more importantly, touchdown Carter.  I'm absolutely
beaming as we give the team a huge roar of cheers and applause – he
scored me a touchdown!

The rest of the game goes off without a hitch – the Beavers fail to
score and then the Eagles run out the clock with a few more running plays.
It's a perfect Friday night in the Midwest.  A win for the home team on a
cold, clear November evening.  It really doesn't get any better than that.

After we all sing the alma mater, the three of us slowly make our way into
the flow of the crowd leaving the stadium.  We get back outside the gate,
but as Ko and Katy turn towards the parking lot, I make to head in the
opposite direction.

"So this is it, huh?" Ko asks with a smirk.  "You're heading off to spend
time with your boy?"

Of course he wouldn't miss one last chance to razz me.  "Yep," I say.
"What do you guys want to tell me about it?"

Katy puts her hands on her hips and looks me up and down.  "You'll think
about what we talked about?"  I send her back an annoyed look, which
doesn't faze her nearly as much as I wish that it did.

"It's going really well," I try to tell them.

I try to be mad at them for giving me so much grief, but I can't be.  I
know that their number one concern is me, and if they didn't want me to be
happy, they wouldn't be hassling me in the first place.

"You guys," I assure them, "don't worry about me.  I'm a big boy, I can
take care of myself."

They still don't look convinced.

"It's going really well," I say again, half to them and half to myself.  I
really hope so.

In the end, Ko and I shrug at each other and turn to walk away.  Katy, on
the other hand, decides it's a good time to leap upon me with a huge hug.
I hate to admit it, but I kind of wanted one.

As I walk over to the locker room exit where all the players come out after
the game, I have a chance to think a little more about everything we talked
about without all the noise, excitement, and distraction of the football
game.

The most annoying thing about having friends like Ko and Katy is that they
know me well enough to pretty much always be right when it comes to this
sort of stuff.  And as much as I do think (or at least hope) they're wrong,
I know there's at least a little bit of truth to their worries.  Carter and
I have gotten further along than I ever dreamed was possible, but it's
still not in a good place, at least not by their standards.

After all, Carter has a girlfriend.  I've never heard him say a single nice
thing about her, except maybe that she gave him head once, if that counts.
But they're still together, so in the end he chooses her over me.  I'm
getting the sex, but she still gets all the love and affection, at least
officially.  I try to tell myself that it doesn't bother me, but it does.
Being Carter's dirty little secret is fun and exciting, but I can't pretend
that I don't want more.

My thoughts are interrupted as the locker room door bursts open and the
first couple of football players start pouring out, freshly showered.

Is it weird that I'm here?  Will it seem strange that I'm standing out here
waiting with all the moms and girlfriends?

I have to put my fears and doubts on hold though, because the next person
to file out of the locker room is none other than Carter himself.  He looks
fantastic.  Better than I've seen him in a long time, which is saying
something.  He's freshly showered and dressed in sweatpants and a training
jacket.  I can't help but notice as he walks that he doesn't seem to be
wearing anything under the sweatpants, as evidenced by the subtlest little
bulge I can see swinging back and forth as he walks.  I feel my heart skip
a few beats as I think about that.  Does he do this stuff on purpose, or is
he just naturally this sexy all the time?

He's also beaming from ear to ear, clearly high off the excitement off a
big win, capped off with his very own touchdown.  Better yet, his smile
gets even bigger when he sees me waiting, and he hurries over to meet me.

"I told you!" he whoops as he approaches.  "I knew it was gonna happen
tonight!"

I can't help but share in that infectious joy of his, and before I know it,
all my doubts and worries are gone.  We're together, Carter's happy, I'm
happy.  I feel like a million bucks as we start to walk to the student
parking lot.  Talking and joking about all the things at the game.

We're most of the way there when it suddenly occurs to me: Carter doesn't
drive.  At least not that I know of.  The few times we've hung out, his mom
or dad have dropped him off at my house, or there was that one time he came
over with his family's driver.  But I've never seen him drive a car before.
I don't think he even has one.

"Do you have..." I start to ask the question, but he cuts me off.

"No, the driver isn't here," he says with a embarrassed sigh.

I laugh.  "I was going to ask if you had a car, but I guess I was wondering
about the driver, too."

"I'm still upset that you even found out about that," he says, with the
cutest little hint of embarrassment.  "Even I think it's a little bit weird
sometimes."  Carter stops walking and turns to face the next car in the
row.  "Well, here we are," he announces.

I look up just in time to see the car's parking lights automatically turn
on and the door handles slide gracefully out from the doors.  We're
standing in front of a bright, red Tesla.  Holy.  Shit.

"Is this your car?!" I ask incredulously.

I step around the car to get a better look at it.  It's beautiful.  Every
square inch of it looks amazing from every angle.  I've seen commercials,
but I've never seen one in person.  I didn't know anyone in our town even
had one.  He must be joking with me.  Carter doesn't have a car, much less
this $100,000 masterpiece sitting in front of me.

Carter, however, instead of denying ownership of the Tesla, just shrugs and
looks a bit uncomfortable.  "It's my dad's car, but I was allowed to drive
it tonight, as long as I went straight home after the game."

While I'm a little bit disappointed that we can't stop anywhere for food on
the way home, I can't complain.  We're driving home in a Tesla.

Once I'm done gawking, Carter tosses his bag in the trunk and we get into
the car.  The inside is even nicer than the outside.  All leather interior,
insanely comfortable, with what had to be the largest set of computer
screens I've ever seen in a vehicle.  I feel like I'm sitting in the
future, and the future is looking very bright.  With the push of a button,
the car springs to life and Carter silently pulls out of the parking lot
and into the road.  It drives like a dream.

Carter's phone suddenly chirps that he has a text message and I'm struck
with an interesting thought.

"Where's Beth at tonight?" I ask innocently.  I feel like Carter's chosen
me over her tonight, and I want to rub it in a little bit if possible.
Granted, maybe she's just out of town or busy with family plans tonight,
but maybe she's sitting at home crying wondering how I'm stealing her
boyfriend.  It's a possibility, right?

"She went home after the game," Carter says nonchalantly.  "She has a bunch
of stuff to do tomorrow."  He pauses for a second, then decides to keep
going.  "Plus, I told her I already had plans."  He turns to me and winks,
which I don't even need to tell you is the hottest thing in the world.

I decide to push my luck even further.  "Dude, you don't have to hang out
with me tonight, I'll totally understand if..."  I trail off and search
Carter's face for a reaction.

"I like..."  He stops and decides not to continue.  "No, nevermind."

"What?" I ask.

Carter shakes his head.  "It doesn't matter."

I feel like when people say that something doesn't matter, they're always
on the verge of saying something really important.  You can't let them off
the hook.

"What?" I insist.  "You obviously wanted to say something."  I let my words
hang over his head in silence and I commit myself to not saying anything
until Carter just tells me what he was going to say.  After almost ten
seconds of silence, he finally breaks down.

"I was going to say that I like hanging out with you more than her anyway,"
he quickly mumbles, as though if he says it slightly faster and quieter
that I won't hear it.

I can't help but smile at that, although I try to keep a look of concern on
my face for his sake.  Secretly, that's exactly what I was hoping for.

"Sorry?" I say tentatively, even though I'm not at all.  "Sort of," I
admit.

Carter laughs when he hears me apologize, which breaks the tension.  "Don't
be sorry that you're more fun to hang out with than she is."  He looks over
and makes eye contact for a split second before turning back to the road.
"Especially, um... Especially lately."

I see him blush a little bit, which confirms that he's talking about
exactly what I was thinking (and hoping) he was talking about.  Add another
point to Ko's tally on that one, because it seems like pushing my physical
relationship with Carter has been working even better than I thought it
would.  Get a boy hard (or off), and he's all yours.

We get to a stoplight, and when it turns green, Carter pulls over into the
left turn lane and takes what is most definitely a wrong turn.

"I don't get to drive this much, so I figured I'd take the long way home,"
he says.  "Is that cool?"

"Uhhh, yeah," I say.  "I've never even seen a Tesla before, so I'm pretty
stoked for an excuse to keep riding in it."

"Cool," he replies.  He smiles as he drives, and I wonder if it's because
of me or because of the car.  Both, perhaps?

Reassured by Carter's words about me and Beth, I'm suddenly possessed with
an unnatural courage.  I would never do something like this, but it's
getting to me, everything is.  Maybe it's the fact that Carter chose
hanging out with me tonight over hanging out with his girlfriend.  Perhaps
it's that he told me how much he likes all the fooling around we've been
doing lately.  Or it might just be the fact that I'm sitting in a $100,000
luxury car.

Whatever the combination of factors it took to get me here, I get an urge
inside me to do something crazy, and I don't stop myself.  Instead, I reach
over into Carter's lap and set my hand on his crotch.

He gasps when I make contact, but he doesn't stop me.  I slowly start
rubbing my hand into the fabric of his sweatpants, and before long I start
to feel the outline of his cock swelling inside of them.  Without anything
on under them (I was right about that), it's easy to make out the shape of
Carter's long, full shaft through his pants, and I carefully wrap my
fingers around it and gently stroke up and down.

Carter's breathing gets heavier and he slides slightly forward in his seat
to afford me better access to the area away from his seat belt.
Encouraged, I increase my tempo and grip on the hard rod in his pants.  I
slide my hand down all seven inches of him and give his nice, full balls a
squeeze before moving my attention back up and resuming my jerking.  Even
in the low light I can see the perfect silhouette of Carter's dick in my
hand, and I know exactly what I want to do.

I look up away from the action for a second and try to figure out exactly
where we are.  I'm glad Carter decided to take the long way home, because
even with the extra time I estimate that we only have about five more
minutes before we get to Carter's house.  It's not a lot of time, but I
think it will be just enough for what I have in mind.

My hand runs up under his shirt and I regret not having more time to feel
the smooth, tight skin of Carter's stomach before sliding it into his
waistband.  Commando was a good choice tonight, because without any other
obstructions I have free access to everything inside those sexy gray
sweatpants of his.  Carter's dick is rock hard, and I run my fingers up and
down its length, marveling at the smooth, warm perfection in my hands.

Shit, there's no time for this!  I can't be dawdling around relishing every
square inch of this boy right now – even though I want to.  We only have
about four minutes left before we get home, so if I'm going to make this
happen, I need to make it happen now.  With that in mind, I reach my other
hand over and tug down Carter's waistband a little, releasing his
impressive manhood.

Damn that thing is just perfect.  Even if I wasn't so pressed for time, I
wouldn't have been able to hesitate for a second.  I push my head into
Carter's lap and start sucking his cock.

Estimating that I have roughly three minutes left in our trip to get him
off, I don't waste any time with subtlety or foreplay.  I bury him in my
mouth right off the bat, and he half gasps, half moans in response.  The
flavor of his precum hits my tongue as I pull back off, which is a good
sign.  He's so ready for this.  I take him in again all the way and let him
out, then again a few more times.  It feels incredible to have his swollen
head banging into the back of my throat, and I know he's liking it just as
much as I am from the increased pace and volume of his breathing.  Two and
a half minutes.

"Holy shit, Jackson..." he moans as I continue to bob up and down
frantically on his hard tool.  "Oh god that feels amazing!"

I glance up for just a second and see how flushed he is.  Carter is
concentrating as hard as he can on the road, probably willing himself to
ignore what's going on in his lap and focus on driving.  It'll be a losing
battle if I have anything to do with it.  Two minutes.

Halting my rhythm, I pull back until just Carter's head is in my mouth and
I swirl my tongue around it, savoring the sexy ridges and contours of his
cockhead.  That gets a response from him as well, as Carter jerks his hips
up in pleasure and moans softly.  I continue with my tongue, making sure to
get all over the head and underneath it to his frenulum.  Damn, his cock is
so fantastic!  I'd love to spend all day running my tongue all over it, but
there isn't time!

With just over a minute left of our car ride, I move back into a steady
tempo up and down his pole.  I start with just the head, then extend down
to take him a little deeper into my mouth, then a little further, and so
on, until I'm sliding up and down the top six inches of Carter's shaft with
each stroke of my mouth.  Less than a minute now.

I slide my hand down to his balls and gently squeeze those two smooth,
perfect globes.  I can feel them starting to tighten up, so I know Carter
has to be close.  I'm still bobbing up and down across most of Carter's
dick, and he's starting to move his hips in time with my ministrations.
This timing might end up being about perfect, and I've got one last trick
up my sleeve.  Thirty seconds.

With no time left to lose, I take a deep breath and plunge my head down as
far as it will go, burying Carter in my mouth all the way to the hilt.  I
commit myself to staying there as long as it takes, and within seconds
Carter starts writhing in the pleasure of my deep throating.

"Jackson, that feels... oh fuck that's so... oh god, I'm... ah, ah, ah..."

At a loss for words, Carter bucks his hips up into my mouth and explodes
into the back of my throat, sending pump after pump of his hot sperm down
into my stomach.  I pull off a little to breathe, which is tricky given
that Carter is still painting the inside of my mouth with a heavy load of
jizz.  I make a conscious effort to favor keeping the car clean over
putting fresh air in my lungs, and I pull off with a gasp just in time as
the last dribble spurts out of Carter glistening cockhead and onto his
abdomen.

"Jesus, Jackson!" he says between breaths.  "That was amazing, dude!"  I
knew it was, but it feels really good to hear him say it.

After tucking his still throbbing member back into his pants, I pull my
head up out of Carter's lap and notice that we've stopped in front of the
gate leading to the Mulkins residence.  Perfect timing.  The gate is almost
done swinging open, which means I finished Carter off with not a second to
spare.  I give myself an A+ for my efforts tonight, and if the dazed look
on Carter's face means what I think it does, I think he would do the same.

Still panting, Carter pulls the car down their long driveway and into the
spacious four car garage at its end.  As soon as he gets the car in park,
he turns to look at me.

"Jackson," he says, his eyes blazing even in the dim light of the garage,
"that was fucking insane."

I want to relish that he just said that, but it occurs to me that he might
mean the fact that I made a move on him while he was trying to drive
something that might cost more than my house.  In retrospect, I would agree
that it was "fucking insane."  Shit.

"Sorry," I say meekly, suddenly deflated by the enormity of how dumb of an
idea it was.

Carter suddenly looks at me like I just sprouted a unicorn horn on top of
my head.  "Sorry?  For giving me the best blowjob of my life?"

"Oh," I say, "I just thought that it was like, with the car, and then..."

Carter cuts me off with his classic, million dollar smile.  He gestures his
hands around the cabin of the Tesla and then around his crotch area.  "Not
a drop in the car.  So there's nothing to worry about."

Thank god.  He's not upset about the car.  And even better, he said I gave
him the best blowjob of his life!  He never had much to say about Beth's
handiwork, but it's still nice to get that confirmation.  I let his words
sink in and try to savor the moment.  The best blowjob of his life, and it
was all me.

Forget Katy and Ko and all their doubts and worries, because let me repeat
that, straight from the horse's mouth: I just gave Carter Mulkins the best
blowjob of his life.

To be continued...