Date: Wed, 29 Oct 2014 01:03:02 -0400
From: Roe St. Alee <roesaintalee@hotmail.com>
Subject: How I Got Carter - Part 7

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 welcome, so email me at roesaintalee@hotmail.com. Thank you
for being patient with the story, and as long as you'll wait for the next
chapter, I'll keep on writing slowly but surely.

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

Enjoy!

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

How I Got Carter - Chapter 7


Sam pulls an arrow out of his quiver effortlessly and hooks it on the
string.

"First," he says, "You hook the notch on the arrow just above this little
bead."  He tilts the bow and holds it up towards us so Carter and I can see
it more closely.

"Index and middle fingers - one on each side of the arrow."

We crane our necks to get a good view.  One finger on each side just like
he said, with the arrow nocked just above a little bead on the bow string.
Got it.

It's the first week of October and a spectacularly gorgeous autumn day.
The first color is starting to creep into the leaves and the air is crisp
and cool.  A day like this might be cold if it wasn't for the afternoon
sunshine covering everything in a nice, warm glow.  In other words, a
perfect day to hang out and shoot some stuff.

A few weeks ago Sam promised to bring me over to his house to shoot his
bows.  We've only waited this long because Sam's mom didn't want any house
guests until everything was moved in.  Sam tried to explain that we're all
a bunch of high school boys and that decor, feng shui, and tidiness mean
very little to us, but she wouldn't have it.

And so our plans for target practice got postponed for a few weeks.  It's a
good thing, too.  Just a few days ago Sam got the idea to invite Carter
along.  He's picked up on my feelings - or `obsession,' as he sometimes
calls it - with Carter, and while he couldn't fully condone crushing on
straight boys, he agreed to wingman for me as much as possible.  Hence his
extension of the additional invite.

With Sam's blessing, I offhandedly mentioned the upcoming archery seminar
to Carter during our chemistry lab on Friday, and he bit.  He really bit.
He practically begged me to ask Sam if he could tag along.  Which, of
course, I already had.  But he didn't need to know that!  I played it cool
and toyed with him a little, partially because I was enjoying my brief
moment of having the upper hand with Carter, and partially because he's so
cute when he's frustrated.

Fast forward a week, and now we're here.

Sam turns back toward the target and assumes a shooting stance.  "Put the
shaft against the top of the arrow rest - that's the little flat part
here," he says, indicating a small shelf above the grip with his left index
finger, "And then you're ready to shoot."

Carter and I each take a step back and await with great anticipation the
coming shot.

"Pull back until your right hand is against your cheek."  I watch Sam draw
the bow, and I can see his whole body relax under the familiar motion.  He
looks so comfortable with the weapon.

"To shoot, I'll just let the string roll out of my fingers.  I'm not
flicking it out or letting go, just slow and steady."  Sam looks over at us
to make sure we're following along and we nod visibly to reassure him.  Sam
smiles and looks back at the target, once again all business.

"Aim..." Sam takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly while he
closes one eye.  With his last bit of air, he barely whispers, "Fire."

The arrow soars across the back yard and buries itself right in the middle
of the bullseye with a resounding thunk.  Carter and I can't help but
applaud at the perfect shot.  Sam takes a dramatic, sweeping bow, and then
holds the bow out to me.

"Your turn, gents."

I grab the bow tentatively and test the feel of it in my hands.  It's
lighter than I thought, but still feels solid.  Sam hands me an arrow and
nods encouragingly towards the target.  Putting my left foot forward, I do
my best to imitate Sam's stance.

I'm nervous to go first, especially after watching Sam shoot a bullseye so
effortlessly.  I notch the arrow, hold up the bow, pull back, and...

Well, at least I hit the target.  My shot sticks out about 2 feet from
Sam's, but I guess it's not that bad for my first try.  I turn back towards
Sam and he seems pleased with my initial effort.  Carter looks pleased,
too, but for different reasons.

"It's not looking good, Jackson," he says with a smile as I hand him the
bow.  "You're going to be up all night writing that lab report.  What a
shame."

The bet.

We had an especially lengthy lab yesterday, and while we were able to
complete the experiment during class, we haven't written any of the report
yet.  Thus, Carter and I are having a shootoff.  Loser writes the lab
report.

And now Carter's talking shit, trying to get inside my head.  He can be as
cocky as he wants until he fires a shot, then we'll see who's stuck writing
the lab report!  At least that's what I tell myself, hoping that it really
is as hard as it seems from my first try.

I can't imagine he knows what he's doing, but he sure looks confident as he
draws the bow and takes aim.  He mimics Sam's breathing and takes a long,
slow breath before he lets go.

WHACK.  Wide right and straight into the plywood back stop.

"Damn," Carter says, grinning sheepishly at me, "it looked a lot easier
when Sam did it."

He holds the bow back out to Sam, but Sam shakes his head.  "Take a few
more shots and get comfortable, then I'll give you some pointers."

For the next twenty minutes or so, Carter and I take turns sending volley
after volley of arrows into the target, against the backstop, and although
I hate to admit it, once or twice clear over the target and into the wooden
fence at the end of Sam's yard.  I'm glad his mom's not home to witness it.

Sam does a great job of coaching us.  He starts with our feet, then makes
sure our hips line up, then into our torsos and then finally our arms and
head.  Once our bodies are doing the right thing, he teaches us how to
breath, aim, and release in perfect coordination.  By the time he's done
with us, we're nailing the target every time and getting a good amount of
bullseyes.

"Ok, guys," says Sam when we reach a good stopping point, "let's take a few
minutes break before we kick off the final showdown."

Carter and I agree.  It's not exactly warm, but we've both worked up a
pretty decent sweat over the last half hour.  Who knew it would be so much
work just to shoot a bow and arrow?

Sam runs into the house to get some snacks and water while while Carter and
I gather up our last barrage of arrows from the target.  A minute later
we're all at the table on Sam's back porch munching on chips and salsa.

"Do you really think you can get an archery club started at school?" Carter
asks in between chips.

Sam thinks for a second before answering.  "I don't see why not.  You don't
have to have a lot of people, because you can always compete individually
at the competitions.  I think we'd just need a place to practice and a
coach, right?"

"What about the weapons thing?" I counter.  It seems like the last thing
the school administration would want.

Sam laughs.  "What sports aren't dangerous?"  He shrugs, but looks hopeful.
"I don't expect to get anything going this year, but if I start now then
maybe there's still my junior and senior year."

Carter and I both nod and then all three of us lapse into quiet, munching
on our snacks and sipping water in the waning late summer light.  What a
nice day.  Gorgeous weather, my new friend, the hottest kid in school, and
some backyard target practice.  That's not bad for a Thursday evening.

The idyllic silence is suddenly broken with a surprise question from
Carter: "Did you really get kicked out of Segman?"

I raise my eyebrows and stare at Carter.  I mean, I'm as curious as anyone,
but to just drop that bombshell out of nowhere... Damn.

Sam looks as surprised as I do, but he doesn't hesitate, and his response
doesn't betray any sense of shame.

"Yeah," he says simply, "I did."

After a few seconds of silence Sam sighs.  It's clear that he's expected to
elaborate.

"I didn't get expelled or anything," he says, "and I didn't even get in
trouble.  But it was the end of the school year and they basically told me
not to come back."  He corrects himself.

"Was your mom pissed?" I ask.  That's my first thought because my mom would
be absolutely livid, regardless of whether they whether it was an official
expulsion or not.

Sam shrugs.  "She wasn't happy about the... situation.  But she already had
this new job and we would be moving anyway, so switching schools wasn't a
big deal."

The `situation?'  What's that about?  I'm about to follow up, but Carter
beats me to it.

"So what happened?"

Sam's eyes narrow and he looks at Carter.  "You're on the football team, so
why don't you tell me?"

Carter blushes, which confirms Sam's suspicion that he must already know
something.  When Troy had his little standoff with Sam in the locker room I
got the distinct impression he knew something, and if it was anything weird
or embarrassing I'm sure he wasted no time sharing it with the rest of the
team.

"I heard that you..." Carter's face turns an even deeper shade of crimson.
He looks back and forth between me and Sam as though looking for a way out
of the situation.  As nothing presents itself, the words all spill out at
once.  "You got caught giving someone a blowjob in the bathroom."

What?!  It's all I can do not to do a spit take with my water.  Sam told me
he was gay, but this is crazy!

Sam, to my surprise, just laughs.  "That's gross," he says.  "Who wants to
kneel down on a bathroom floor?"

Carter doesn't know what to make of that, and I'm sure I look just as
confused as he does.

"It was the locker room showers," he continues.  Our jaws drops
simultaneously, and he barely gives us time to collect ourselves before he
continues.  "Plus it was more than just someONE, and that was just the time
I got caught."

Holy shit!  Even knowing Sam was openly gay, it's totally different to hear
that he got kicked out of school for blowing a bunch of guys in the locker
room.


Sam looks at me, and then at Carter, and then back at me.  I don't know the
facial expression for this, and even if I did, I'm not sure I could will my
face into anything but my current mix of shock and amazement.  I think Sam
is waiting for one of us to say something, but we're both struck dumb.

Sam chuckles at us before shrugging it off.  "You asked," he says.  "Sorry
I'm not sorry if that bothers you," he adds for good measure.

"Don't be sorry," I say, finally able to gather myself to the point I can
speak.  "I just had no idea."

"I don't exactly go around telling everyone about it," says Sam.  He turns
to and addresses Carter, "I thought you might already know, and I wanted to
set the record straight."

We both wait for Carter to react, but he doesn't say anything for a long
while.  When I told him Sam was gay, he seemed cool with it, and even then
he already had been tipped off by football team gossip.

But now that I'm over my initial shock at Sam's revelation, I'm beginning
to wonder how Carter might be taking this.  When I hear about Sam giving
head in school, I think it's risky at worst, and at best, really hot.  But
Carter might not see it that way.  Maybe he's not cool with what Sam did.
I guess it's one thing to hear that someone is theoretically gay, but quite
another to hear about dicks in mouths and all that.

"I wouldn't exactly say," begins Carter, snapping me back to reality, "that
your story sets anything straight."

It takes us both a minute to see what he did there, but once we catch on to
the way he emphasized the word `straight' and see the nervous grin on
Carter's face, Sam and I both start laughing.

"Oh man," I say through the chuckles, "you had me a little bit worried
there."

"Nah," says Carter waving his hand dismissively, "it doesn't bother me."
He thinks for a second and then continues. "You know, I don't think it
bothers most of the guys on the team.  They act tough and macho when
they're all together, but most of them don't actually have a problem
with... anybody, really.  Gay, nerd, band geek, whatever."

Sam nods in agreement.  "Only a couple people have ever given me shit
personally.  It's mostly for show."

"Like Troy's crap on the first day of school," I chime in.

"Exactly."

This is great.  The one thing I was worried about bringing Sam and Carter
together was the gay issue.  It's not something I've ever talked to Carter
about, and even though he's never struck me as being homophobic, you never
know until you stir the pot a bit.

"So, the school found out and they kicked you out?" I ask.

"Not exactly," he replies.

"Right, they `asked you to leave' or whatever," Carter says.

"True," continues Sam, "but it's the same thing.  And at that point most of
the school was in an uproar.  I mean, it's stupid," muses Sam, "straight
kids are out there all the time having sex, blowing each other, getting
pregnant.  But a gay kid tries to do it, and all of a sudden everyone's
`being corrupted' and `out of control.'  That's the only thing that pissed
me off was the parents who freaked out about it."

"I mean, you did do it in the locker room with two dudes at once," I point
out.

Sam smiles, maybe because I have a good point or maybe he's just
remembering what it was like to service two guys at the same time.  It
sounds like an intriguing possibility to me, and I suddenly wonder if Sam
would be down to try... But how do you bring something like that up?

"I can't argue with that," he concedes, "and it wasn't the first time I'd
fooled around with someone at school, so that might have made things
worse."

"There's that many gay dudes at Segmen?" Carter asks.  My thoughts exactly.

"No," Sam answers, quite simply.  From Carter's raised eyebrows, I can tell
Sam is the only one of us who doesn't think this is a contradiction.

"But you just said-" Sam cuts me off with a wave of his hand.

"They weren't gay," he clarifies, "at least not openly."

"So why'd they let you suck them off?" asks Carter.

"It's really funny, you know?" says Sam.  "These guys don't like gay
people.  They would be the first ones to push me against a locker or call
me a fag in the hallway after class.  But when it came down to it... When
you had to put your money where your mouth is? These guys wanted me to suck
their dicks."

That's crazy.  I know a lot of guys at our school just like the ones Sam is
talking about, and I can't imagine any of them would let another guy so
much as look at their packages..

Sam shrugs.  "I was at a party my freshman year and I blew a guy.  It
wasn't a big deal or anything, but I guess word got around.  I was never in
the closet, but after that party?  Things were different...

"One day after soccer one of the seniors on the team cornered me and
started grilling me about it.  At first I thought he was going to
straighten me out, so to speak.  He was a lot bigger than me, so if he
wanted to fight, I was going to have to just take it.  But it never
happened.  He was intense about the whole thing, but he never punched me or
told me off.  He just kept asking me a bunch of questions.

"I noticed he kept looking at the door, like he was waiting for someone to
bust in, which should have tipped me off that something was weird.  But I
didn't get the idea until he told me to sit down on one of the benches and
asked if I knew what it meant to be discrete.  I told him I did and he
pulled out his dick."

Sam looks at his audience and decides, correctly, that we're eager to hear
more.  He continues.

"He seemed nervous at first, but once I started he really got into it.  By
the end he was humping the shit out of my face and begging me to finish him
off.  He came hard, and I think even he was surprised at how much he loved
it.  He left without saying anything, and the next day he acted like
nothing happened."

"That's only one guy though; he's probably gay," I rebut.  I can't get over
the fact that straight guys would be into this!  Wishful thinking, I guess.

"That's exactly what I thought when it happened," Sam continues.  "I
thought that would be the end of it, or at the most we'd have a thing
happening on the down low.  I was wrong.

"It turns out a few guys on the team had heard what I did at the party and
wanted to test the waters.  They sent Patrick in to see what would happen,
while the other two kept a watch outside the door.  I don't think they
expected things to go that far.  Patrick told them about his blowjob and it
wasn't long before the other two guys came knocking.  One in an empty
classroom after school and the other one in his car a week after that."

Woah.  This story is getting my blood pumping, so to speak, and I have to
reach down to adjust my package a bit.  Luckily we're all sitting around
the table, so I don't think anyone notices.  Hopefully we can sit here a
few more minutes before we get up, otherwise I might be sporting a tent in
my shorts.

"You guys have gotten head before, right?"

Carter gives a little shrug and a nod.  "Yeah."  He and Sam turn to me to
verify my experience.

Damn.  Carter has a girlfriend, and I'm sure she's gone down on him.  I
would, in her position, daily if possible.  And god only knows what's Sam's
gotten himself into.  But I'm stuck as the odd man out, and as much as I
hate to admit it, I have to be honest.  "No."

Sam is clearly surprised by my answer and starts to retort, but I silence
him with a look before he can inquire further.  I see the recognition in
his eyes: Carter doesn't know I'm gay, so now isn't the best time to
question how any self respecting, gay high school junior hasn't gotten a
blowjob yet.

"It doesn't matter," Sam continues, diverting attention from .  "I can
assure you that however you feel about boys, you'd like a blowjob from
one."

"And why's that?" asks Carter.

"Because we," he says smugly, "know what we're doing."

-------

I feel a single bead of sweat running down my forehead.  I start my final
exhalation and close my left eye, leaving my right to stare through the
sight of the bow and at the target.  The amount of sweat gathered in my
brow must have reached a critical mass, because a new drop has formed and
is working its way straight into my eye.

I blink a couple of times to clear my sight.  I take a deep breath in...

"Eight to tie, nine to win," says Carter.  As though I needed a reminder.

We've fired round after round of volleys, with Sam keeping score.  And now,
with the sun setting we are almost tied up.  I have one more shot, and
Carter has an eight point lead.  Nine or bullseye wins, less than seven
loses.  I've been shooting sevens or better consistently, but now I have to
do it under pressure.

I line up the sight with the target and begin to exhale.  I focus in on the
target, then the bullseye, then the center of the bullseye, then the middle
of the center of the bullseye.  I reach the bottom of my breath and slowly
straighten my fingers...

TWANG!

The arrow flies from the string and and shoots towards the target.  I watch
it sail 90% of the way there, then close my eyes at the last second.

THONK!

I hear a sigh from Carter and a whoop from Sam, and it tells me everything
I need to know.

"Yes!"  I open my eyes to a perfect bullseye.

"Nice shot!" Sam exclaims as he claps me on the back.  I bask in the praise
of the master for only a second before turning to Carter, who's sulking
melodramatically a few feet away.  Sam and I both look at him expectantly.

"What?" asks Carter defiantly.

I keep my expression neutral, but Sam frowns and crosses his arms in
disapproval.  He's proctoring the competition, and he wants a good sport.

Carter rolls his eyes, but his half smile gives away his good nature, even
in defeat.  "Fine," he says, "congratulations."  He shakes my hand and then
laughs.  "I'm not upset about losing to you.  I just don't want to write
that stupid lab report."

"Well, Carter, I guess..." I pause just long enough to see a little bit of
hope flicker across his face.  "I guess it sucks to be you."

What?  I know it was mean, but I won fair and square, and I deserve a
little bit of gloating, don't I?

We all walk into the house as dusk settles on the yard, smiling and
laughing, happy to be here, together, and having fun.

-------

"This was great," I say with genuine gratitude.  Today was awesome, and we
both have Sam to thank.  "Thanks for having us over to shoot."

 "No problem!" Sam says, smiling.  "I'm glad you could both make it."

"Yeah, it was awesome!" says Carter.  It's cool to see Carter this happy,
and to know that I made it happen.

We hear a honk outside and Carter turns to go.  "That's my mom, I better
get out there!"  With one last gorgeous grin, he's out the door.  I'm
biking home, so I'm not on quite so tight of a schedule.

"Well..." Sam says knowingly.

"Well, what?" I ask, already feeling some color come into my cheeks.  I
know exactly what Sam is `welling' about.

"He's cute," Same says matter of factly.  I can't argue with that.  "Super
cute."

"Yeah," I sigh, "he sure is."

Sam sighs in solidarity and we both stand there for a minute smiling at
each other.  It's good to have a new friend, and I thank the forces of fate
that had whatever administrator at our school decide that I should walk Sam
to soccer on his first day of school.

"Well, I guess I'll head out.  Thanks again!"  I give Sam a quick hug and
turn to the front door.  What a fun day!  I check my pockets one more time
before I head out to make sure I have everything: wallet, keys, and
phone... I'm good to go.  I open the door and am about to step out, but
stop at the sound of Sam's voice.

"Jackson, hang on."

I turn back to Sam to see what he needs, and I'm struck at once by his
expression.  It's different.  One I've never seen before.  I wonder what's
up.

"Jackson," he repeats, "You're my friend, so I need you to be honest with
me, ok?"

I'm not sure where this is going, but I'm glad that Sam considers me a
friend.  I nod my head as Sam comes a step closer to me.  He looks pretty
serious.

"I respect you, Jackson," he continues, "so you need to tell me if you
aren't ok with this."

"Yeah," I respond, confused, "I'll let you know."  He's already told me
he's gay, so I rack my brain for what else he might need to tell me about
right now.  It's something that I might "not be ok" with, but I'm still
drawing a blank...

"You promise?"

Man, he must be serious about this.

"Yeah, I promise."  Damn!

It hits me just as the words leave my mouth: Does he like Carter, too?

That must be it!  He's interested in Carter but he doesn't want me to be
upset.  All his talk about being gay and blowing guys and all that was
testing the waters, and Carter didn't freak out.  I think he was even
getting a little hot and bothered by some of Sam's talking.

Damn it!

Carter took to him, that's for sure.  I'm weirdly optimistic if Sam thinks
Carter might be gay or bi, but I do not feel good about the new
competition, especially from someone who's supposed to be my new friend.
And someone so much more open and experienced than me.  If Carter does
swing for this team or is even curious, he knows exactly who to go
to... and it's not me.

Sam takes another step towards me while I'm processing all this, and now
he's about about a foot away from my face.  I have to respect him for
bringing this up like he is, and I need to meet his honesty with my own.  I
need to be supportive of him, but he needs to know how I feel.

"Sam, I-"

He cuts me off with a finger held against my lips.  The surprise contact me
startles me into silence, but it's nothing compared to my surprise at what
happens next.

Sam doesn't admit that he has a crush on Carter.  He doesn't tell me to
give up on the boy and move on so he has a clear shot.  In fact, he doesn't
say anything about Carter at all.

Instead, with his finger still pressed against my lips, he leans in even
closer, until he's just two inches away.  He's staring hard into my eyes,
making sure I'm with him, and I feel his breath on my face as he speaks.

"If you tell me to stop, I'll stop."

The words still haven't sunk in when he pulls his finger away from my face
and drops to his knees.

To be continued...