Date: Fri, 12 Dec 2008 00:26:09 +0000
From: rich h <palouse1@hotmail.com>
Subject: Seal Rocks Part 20

       Mike finished third in his semifinal heat, ending his day, about an
hour later.  Erick, however, moved easily into the finals of his division,
with that heat set for around 6.  The boys thus had a long time to relax,
watching heat after heat.  Eddie Boynton wiped out spectacularly in a short
board semifinal, leaving him swearing on the beach with his broken board
while the heat finished without him.  He looked slightly glazed.  Erick
snorted, "He's so fuckin' wasted, look at him.  No idea."

       They sat together, relaxed, shoulder at times subtly touching.  Mike
and Jesse kept looking at each other, lapsing into long silences, and then
giggling self-consciously when they realized how they must look.  Most of
the other kids, locals, seemed to ignore them, though Jesse noticed a few
nasty glances at Erick when he beat several of them out for a spot in the
finals - glances that, to be fair, were probably justified by Erick's
triumphant demeanor and repeated shouts about how San Clemente ruled.
Jesse and Mike tried to keep him calm, or at least civil, but Erick was in
full throated jingoistic mode, and it took Mike's dad giving him a long
lecture about the qualities of sportsmanship to quiet him down.

       The afternoon turned cool as the sun westered.  Mike dug a couple of
old sweatshirts out of the camper shell for them to wear as they waited for
Erick's final heat.  The swell had died alarmingly.  Erick started bitching
about the conditions, nervousness now replacing his pervious excitement.

       "Dude, you can't do shit with a longboard in that," he muttered to
no one in particular as he paced behind where Jesse and Mike were seated.
"It's like a freakin' bathtub out there."  He stopped, put a hand to his
brow for a minute, then exhaled in disgust.  "It's gonna be like tryin' to
steer an aircraft carrier if things don't pick up."

       "Better on a longboard than a shortie," Mike said, trying to cheer
him up.

       "Ya, but there's no speed to the swell - when there is a swell,"
Erick moped.  I might as well go out there and float, get a tan or
somethin'."

       Mike's dad was standing a little off to the right.  "You used the 9'
Stewart in the semi, right Erick?"

       "Ya."

       "OK, hang on."  He wandered back to the camper, appearing a minute
later with another board under his arm.  Mike gaped.  "Try this one out.
Hap made this for me a long time ago, it's really light and maneuverable.
I think it'll help."

       Erick looked at the board reverently.  It was fully eleven feet
long, a monster, sky blue down the center, with three whisper thin
stringers running its length, wide woodstained panels outside them, creamy
subtle rails and a gentle taper to tri fins on its tail.  The distinctive
flattened diamond Jacobs logo gleamed in its center.

       "Dad," Mike almost whispered, "you brought the Hap board??"

       He shrugged.  "This break can die like this, I thought it might come
in handy.  I'd have had you ride it, Mikey, but the swell was still pretty
good during your heats."  He looked at Erick.  "This one is kind of
special, Erick.  Hap doesn't usually do tri fins."

         Erick gulped.  "I - I know, Mike's told me about it."

       Mike's dad nodded.  "Well, Hap's a good guy, he made this one for me
when he was sponsoring me and I complained about how longboards didn't work
in conditions like this.  It moves real fast, and you can cut it on a dime
with those fins, so even in this slop I think you'll have a good time with
it.  Just, uh, just bring it back in one piece, OK?"

         Erick took it, lifted it carefully, testing its heft.  "It's like
air."

       Mike's dad nodded, grinning now.  "Yeah, Hap did a number on this
one, I think.  It's fun."

       Erick glanced down at Mike, who grinned back, his arm thrown over
Jesse's shoulder.  "Go for it, dude."

       And Erick did.  He moved magnificently on the board, turning piddly
swells into works of art, cutting back and up, down and across, strolling
with arrogant ease to ride for long seconds on the nose.  "Shredding" was
too weak a term for his exhibition.  He didn't bother with the wetsuit, and
his tan body was lithe and glowing in the yellowing afternoon light.  Mike
and Jesse sat transfixed - he may have been the most beautiful thing they'd
ever seen They weren't even conscious of their hands over each other's
until a gentle nudge from Mike's dad's foot awoke them to their
indiscretion.  Mike looked up at his father nervously, only to be met by a
shrug and a grin.

       Erick was surprisingly subdued when he came back in at the end of
the final heat.  His chest was heaving, his legs were visibly shaky.  He
sat just above the surfline and dropped his head between his knees.

       The boys scrambled down the bluff.  "Dude, are you OK?"  Mike called
as they approached.

       His eyes were teary.  "I - I haven't, like, enjoyed anything, like
that, in so long."  He wiped his face.  "I - after, y'know, last summer,
I've been so faking it.  Surfing too.  Especially.  I didn't even really
want to do it, or - or maybe I didn't care anymore.  But - but this was -
this was just so rad, guys . . ."  His head dropped back down, his
shoulders started to shake a little.
       Jesse put his right hand onto Erick's otter-smooth hair.  "It's OK,
dude.  I know.  We both do."

       Another of the finalist kids, a local, walked by behind them, board
tucked under one arm.  He muttered something.  Mike was on his feet in an
instant.  "What'd you say?"  he demanded, challengingly.

       The guy - about 5'8", thin but broad shouldered, with hair almost as
dark as his full wetsuit, smirked.  "I said, fuckin' San Clemente faggots
about to cornhole each other."  He opened he free arm wide.  "Problem?"

       Jesse managed to get Mike by the ankle as he lunged for the kid.
Mike fell face first into the sand, struggling to regain his feet as Jesse
held him down.  "Dude, don't," he whispered.  "He's just bein' a prick cuz
Erick shredded his sorry ass out there."

       Mike's eyes were blazing.  "I wanna fuckin' kill 'im."

       "I know.  It's not worth it, OK?"  Jesse saw four or five of the
kid's buds moving toward them - reinforcements in case they were needed.
"It's their beach, Mike, there's too many of them.  They'd kick our asses
before anybody could break it up."

       A tall guy with an impossibly blonde poodle head led the group of
locals.  "Yo Cameron, the faggots giving you trouble?"

       Cameron had already walked on.  "Na," he said, loud enough for the
boys to hear, "they're just cryin' cuz they can't surf worth shit.  They
need to enter the girls' division next time."

       "Hey fuckface."  Erick was standing behind where Mike and Jesse were
sprawled on the sand, fists balled up.  "I shredded your ass out there, so
shut th' fuck up."  He stepped toward Cameron, Jesse unable to stop him
because he was still holding Mike down.

       "Hi, boys, great heat, great job everybody.  Erick, let's get the
board back on the camper, OK?  Mike, you want to help out?"  Mike's father
had an earsplitting grin across his face, but his eyes were narrow and very
focused on the group of locals.  "Any problem here, guys?"

       Cameron opened his mouth, shut it, glanced at Poodle-Head (Jesse had
already nicknamed him in his mind), and shrugged.  "Na.  Just talkin' 'bout
the swell and stuff."  He walked away with his friends; Jesse could see
them stifling laughter.

       Mike's dad kept his gaze on the retreating group.  "Why don't you
guys get back up to the camper.  Now.  OK?"

       Mike shook sand off his T shirt as he stood.  "Dad, I - "
       "No need, Mikey, just go back to the camper, OK?"

       Mike looked at his father for a long second before complying.

       It was half an hour before the results were announced.  The boys,
with Mike's dad hovering close by, but unobtrusively, leaned against a
large speaker as it blasted some anonymous death metal type crap music into
the late afternoon breeze.  Cameron, it turned out, took fourth, with
another local kid, obviously a bud of his, getting third.  Erick was
second, a result that to Jesse so smacked of being hometowned that he was
ready to hit something.  Mike's dad's hand on his shoulder was the only
thing that kept him from shouting.  First was a very short guy from
Imperial Beach who no one else seemed to know, who looked like he was about
12.  He grinned toothily, exposing an alarming array of orthodonture, and
posed with Erick and the third place kid.  Erick was beaming as well; the
local kid was sullen.  When the picture session ended, Jesse noticed the
local kid give Erick a subtle but very deliberate shoulder check.  Mike saw
it too, and was clearly spoiling for a fight.  His father, however, stepped
quickly in and shepherded the boys over to chat brainlessly with a few of
the judges.  It seems one had been a middle school classmate of Mike's dad,
and amid long introductions and jokes about half-remembered eighth grade
pranks the tension slowly ebbed.  Erick kept his trophy clutched to his
chest.

       "Damn, that was somethin' I been waitin' to see for months!!"  a
gravelly voice rose abruptly over the hum of conversation.  A barrel
chested fortyish guy with close cropped blond hair, watery eyes, a slightly
flabby midsection emerging from an open aloha shirt, and sturdy legs was
moving toward them through the thinning crowd.  He had his sunglasses
perched atop his head, and he was squinting madly.  Erick froze.  "I been
wonderin' where you been, Yarnall!!  You were so damn good last year I
thought for sure you'd be on varsity at SC this year.  How you doin' kid?"
He reached the group, smiling broadly, a meaty hand extended to Mike's
father.  "Taylor Castilla, Mr. Yarnall, glad to meet you."

       Jesse and Mike glanced at Erick.  His eyes alone betrayed his sense
of panic.  His face was set - stolid, and unnaturally pale.

       Mike's dad smiled warmly and returned the handshake.  "I can't claim
to be Erick's dad, Mr. Castilla, just a family friend.  Brought my son Mike
- " he nodded to indicate his son "- and a friend down to try it out today,
and Erick came along.  My name's Don Roper.  And this is Mike's friend
Jesse."

       Taylor squinted, thinking a moment, giving Mike and Jesse a casual
once-over with his eyes that made both feel uncomfortable.  "Roper?  You
were with Hap back around '88 or something, weren't you?  Went to World
Juniors in Queensland?"

       "Half right.  My brother and I were both with Hap.  But Bill went to
Juniors, not me."

       Taylor nodded, smiling.  "Got it, sorry.  So, Erick, how's it
hangin' my fine young stallion?"

       Erick couldn't avert his eyes any more.  "I, um, I - I'm OK."

       Taylor's smile never flickered.  He leaned in, like a trusted
confidante.  "You coulda won that final, you know.  You got too in love
with the board, all the tricks and sh - I mean stuff, it could do," with a
slightly nervous glance at Mike's dad, who shrugged at the near obscenity.
"You ride one aggressive wave at a time - "

       "And the scores take care of themselves," Erick completed the
sentence, tonelessly.

       "Exactly!!"  Taylor exclaimed, beaming as he fished a pack of
Marlboros from his shirt pocket.  Jesse yearned to hit him with something,
anything; Mike was staring.  They both moved instinctively closer to Erick.
"Kid still remembers.  Gotta love that."

       "I remember a lot o' stuff, Taylor," Erick said evenly.

       If Taylor was fazed, he didn't show it.  "Good, you should - your
folks paid me enough to teach you!!"  He laughed, a dry crackling smoker's
laugh that sounded anything but mirthful.  "Son, you don't belong in these
small time events - you're good enough to be doing the real money stops.
Trestles, Huntington, Santa Cruz.  I got four companies that'll sponsor you
at the drop of a hat if I say so.  Not just board shapers either - clothes,
shoes, the whole thing.  They're always looking for the next hot kid, and
you just might be it."  He was waving his cigarette at Erick now, an eager
smile on his face.  "You know it, I told you you were that good last year.
And you showed it today.  That was your first time on that board in the
finals, wasn't it?"

       Erick blinked.  "I - how'd you - "

       "The way you moved on it.  You were getting to know it, having fun
with it, not surfing to compete.  Don't get me wrong, you were great, you
shoulda won like I said.  But you were surfing for fun, not competitively.
Right?"

       Erick glanced at Jesse before responding, as if apologizing.  "Well,
it was a pretty bitchin' board, Taylor - did, did you see how it cut, and
held the curl when I went nose, and - " He was grinning slightly now in
spite of himself.

       "I saw all of it, Erick.  It's a good board.  I didn't know Hap was
doing tri fins now."

       "He made that one for me back in the day."  Mike's dad couldn't
conceal his pride.  Mike looked at him with open contempt.

       Taylor nodded, taking a long drag.  "Hap's special, always has been.
Damn giant.  Anyway, Erick, here's the deal: I'd like to pitch you to some
folks for a sponsorship, get you into the circuit, get you some duds and
some new boards, maybe you make yourself some real money.  Not everybody
has the chops to do it, but you do.  I think, anyway.  I'm gonna call your
folks, and let's talk sometime real soon, before school gets everything
sideways.  OK?"

       Erick swallowed visibly.  "OK, I guess."

       Taylor grinned and tousled his hair.  Erick shrank from the touch,
just a little, and only for a moment.  "Excellent!  I got lots of tape of
your rides, from today and last summer, to show the agents.  I always keep
my pictures, right?"  Erick's cheeks reddened.  "Gonna make you a star,
buddy boy.  And hey - go out for varsity this fall, all right - good way to
get the competition thing going, and you'll make it no problem.  I'll talk
to your coach.  Say hi to yer folks for me, OK?  I'll call tonight!"  And
he was off, waddling slightly on sandals that were too worn along the
outside to allow him to walk properly.

       Mike's dad was thrilled for Erick, telling him what a great
opportunity this was.  He was almost as excited about the certificate Mike
was given for his making semis in his first competition.  "Jesse, you just
need to be more confident out there, more aggressive on the waves.  It's
all a show - you have to be willing to put yourself on public display."

       "Yeah," Jesse said quietly, keeping his eyes on Erick.  "I guess I'm
not one to do that sort of thing much."

       "You're a natural, Jesse, just like Erick and Mike," Mike's father
assured him.  "You just need to be more confident.  Erick, this is so great
for you!! Having Taylor Castilla as your agent is a big deal, son, I hope
you recognize that.  The doors he can open - "

       "M - my agent?"  Erick spluttered, seeming to come out of his haze.
"Taylor's gonna be - my agent?"

       "Well, sure, if he gets you those contracts with the board and shoe
guys and all that.  He'd get a percentage of your gross and manage your
business work - with your parents involved, of course."  He frowned.
"Didn't you understand that?"

       "No - yeah, I just - I guess - it's just never been really real to
me, y'know?"  he was blinking, staring at his trophy, eyes downcast.

       Mike's father clapped his shoulder.  "It's a lot to soak up, I know.
I remember when Hap sent me a letter asking if I wanted to be on his team -
that's what they used to call it when you rode a guy's boards, you were on
his team - and I was just speechless I was so excited.  You wait, your mom
and dad are going to be so thrilled for you."

       Erick looked up at him, a thin smile on his face.  "Ya, I guess."

       They loaded the boards and other gear back into the camper in
silence, Erick appearing very preoccupied the whole time.  Jesse waited
until they were securely inside, on the freeway again, before speaking up.
"Dude, you don't want to so this, do you?"

       Erick had been minutely examining his trophy.  He shrugged.

       Mike threw his arms up.  "Fuck, Erick, this guy is still like
exploiting you!  He did it last year, now he's gonna do it again!"

       "This is just business stuff," Erick said softly.

       "You think it'll stay business?  You think he won't start hitting on
you again first chance he gets?  There are other guys, Erick - other guys
who can do this stuff for you."  Mike was almost pleading with him.

       "I - he's the only one interested, Mike.  It ain't like guys are
breaking the door down to sign me up."

       "Have you been trying to get them to come after you?"  Jesse asked.
"You said you hadn't been pushing it cuz you were freaked and all.  You
ride like today in another coupla tournaments and they will be breaking
doors down, dude - you were so good out there."

       Erick sighed and laid his head back against the window on the side
of the camper shell wall.  "Maybe," he whispered.  "Maybe not."

       Mike leaned forward.  "Dude, let me have my dad check out some other
guys, OK?  You just - let's say you just want, like, another bid, or
something, and so you want to talk to another couple of agents.  Then you
can go with somebody else and it won't look like weird or anything."

       Erick shook his head.  "You know what he'll do?  He'll sell the
fuckin' pictures.  He'll fuckin' ruin me if I go with another guy.  Don't
you see that?  He's, like, he's got the hook in, OK?  An' he knows I'm not
gonna go through what it'd take to get it out."  He rubbed his eyes for a
moment.  "That was why he took the pictures - well, one reason.  Not just
to shut me up.  To keep me for himself, if it panned out.  If I turned out
to be good enough to get sponsored."  He looked at the boys.  "It is kinda
cool, in its own sorta twisted way," he smiled crookedly at them.  "I mean
I'm gonna be sponsored and in the surf mags and like paid - maybe a bundle!
- for, for surfing.  For being the new grom on the block."  He giggled
slightly.

       "And you'll let him fuck you for that?  Rape you?  That's what you
called it, dude."  Jesse was angry and scared at once.

       There was a flashing light on their right.  A Border Patrol car shot
past them, careening over behind a rundown tiny camper shell that had
stopped on the freeway shoulder.  As they passed, with the Border Patrol
screeching to a halt, every dilapidated door and window on the camper
exploded with people, scrambling out and into the dry brush, sprinting for
cover.  Jesse saw dust from several SUVs approaching in the distance along
the dirt roads paralleling the freeway.  There had to be fifteen or more
people fleeing, with one of the Border Patrol agents from the car pursuing
them on foot.

       Erick had stepped over to watch out the window with them; now he sat
back down, again holding his trophy close to his chest.  "Ya, well, anyway,
that - that's like complicated, OK?  I mean - I mean I didn't want it to
happen when it did - the first time - but, well shit, I did like wind up
enjoying it.  Kind of."  His hand fluttered in front of him for a moment.
"I mean, I kept going back.  I didn't have to.  I - I coulda bailed."  His
eyebrows raised up.  "Maybe he really does like me, y'know?"

       Jesse looked over at Mike, who was equally horrified.  "Dude," Mike
said softly, imploringly, "he's fucking with your head.  He fucked with
your head last year and now he's going back in.  Only this time it's not
gonna be two weeks or whatever, it's gonna be like years you're gonna be
stuck with him.  And he's gonna exploit you.  I - dude, he's fucking
willing to get you drunk and rape you, you think he's not gonna steal from
you too?"

       Erick shrugged.  "My dad does financial stuff, he can watch that
part.  He - he's good at that."

       Jesse took him by the arm across the width of the camper.  "Dude,
please don't.  There's other ways, OK?"

       They passed the San Onofre checkpoint, which was abuzz with activity
- Border Patrol SUVs and cars revving up and pulling out, emergency lights
glittering.

       Erick looked at him.  "No, you see, this'll be easier, because I
don't have to hide everything.  I - I have you guys.  I - we, we can talk,
about like anything now.  We all know all the nasty stuff about each other,
so we can talk.  So I won't be alone, and scared like I was.  It's scary to
be alone, like that."

       Mike's shamed look at Jesse was unbearable.  So, his eyes asked
Jesse, do we fess up?  How could they do that - to Erick, to anyone?  How
do you explain fifteen year old high school kids turning into Ron Gantry
and Jamie Haller, Web porn sensations, with bank accounts flowing over with
slimy money?  Who were they to disapprove of Erick's agreement to be
exploited?

       Erick was right: the two of them weren't alone in what they were
doing, and they had been remarkably un-scared.  Maybe they should be.

       Jesse broke eye contact with Mike and looked back at Erick.  "Dude,
I - we can't like make up your mind for you, or anything.  It - it's really
wrong, OK, as far as I'm concerned.  It's just gonna fuck you up, an' I'm
scared of that.  Really.  But - but you gotta decide that stuff yourself.
I can't . . ." he waved his arms helplessly.

       Mike's hand landed on his shoulder as he leaned forward as well.
"Promise me you won't let him do stuff you don't want, OK?  Not like sex
stuff, not fucking with the money, nothing.  And - and you're right.  You
can tell us - anything.  We - we got nothing to, to hold you back, from
talking to us.  OK?"

       Jesse was acutely aware of how carefully Mike had phrased that.

       Erick looked at Mike a long moment.  "I know.  It - it really helps.
You guys need to know that.  That it helps, OK?" Suddenly he was across the
camper, his arms about them both, kissing them wherever he could, his hands
in their hair.  "I can't do this if I hafta hide, Mike.  Jes.  I got to
know you guys are, like, there.  OK?"

       Jesse pulled back, looked at Erick's damp blotchy face.  His
expression was a mix of fear and thrilled anticipation.  "No problem,
dude," Jesse said.  The camper rocked as they curved off the freeway onto
Cristianitos.  They were almost home.  Jesse took Erick's face in his hands
and kissed him, his mouth opening gently.  Erick's hands covered his as he
returned the kiss, their tongues lapping against each other softly, for
several seconds.

       When they broke, Erick was visibly crying.  He looked at Mike.
"Sorry, dude.  I mean you saw, I didn't start that."

       Mike pulled him over.  "Only thing to be sorry for is not giving me
some o' that," he laughed softly, and kissed him as well.  Jesse watched
how Mike's cheeks flexed in and out as his tongue probed Erick's mouth, his
cheekbones highlighted by the movement.  Erick's face was turning scarlet.
Jesse took in the line of Mike's jaw, the shadow under his chin, his
throat, his long fingers entwined in Erick's hair.  No wonder I love him,
he thought, he's a fucking god.

       Mike broke the kiss and pushed Erick back across to his seat.  "OK,
that's enough," he said with a smile.  "My dad can handle one queer
boyfriend, but not two."  The three of them started laughing
uncontrollably.

       Erick called each of them several times that night.  His parents
were thrilled at Taylor's proposal, in fact they were all meeting him next
morning after Erick and his parents got out of church.  The Yarnalls
attended a Pentecostal church called the Water of the Living Rock
Fellowship, up in Mission Viejo, and his parents were quite devout.  Jesse
worried a little over how they might react to learning someday that their
son's surfing agent was fucking his underaged brains out, but there was
little to do about it in any event.  Ben laughed sympathetically when Jesse
described his own efforts in the contest.  His mother cooed over the small
certificate of participation he'd received.  "We need to pay Don back for
the entry fee," she fretted.  "He should have said something."

       "He was just being nice, Mom.  I think it was worth it for him to
get Mike to try it out."

       She frowned slightly.  "Well, if it's only $35 I can certainly take
care of that much.  I'm not in the poorhouse yet," she laughed, and both
boys heard how forced the laughter was.  Jesse reminded himself to send a
mortgage check come Monday.

       The next day Mike's parents were off to see some friends up in
Hermosa, and Jesse and he had Mike's house to themselves.  They spent a
couple of hours in bed, joking nervously that they were "rehearsing" for
the coming Wednesday.  Whatever it was, they seemed to get everything
right.

       Jesse finally rolled from beneath Mike, reaching for a small towel
on the bedside table to wipe his ass off, and sighed.  "I got nothing left,
Mike.  You fucked everything out of me." He shifted his wiping to his
penis.  "And sucked it outta me, too.  Damn."

       Mike, face buried in his pillow, made a disapproving grunting noise
and grabbed Jesse's arm, pulling him back down.  He rolled his back against
Jesse, lifting his leg.  "One more, Jes.  C'mon."

       The feel of Mike's body, barely damp with sweat, aroused Jesse
against all rational odds.  He nuzzled his face into the back of Mike's
neck, smelling the conditioner he'd used that morning and the faint
muskiness of the boy himself.  The taut skin tasted even better than it
smelled.  He felt Mike groan as he reached around and took hold of him,
kneading and stroking him toward hardness.  His own cock was responding,
the arousal tingling through his whole body as Mike lifted his right knee
upward to his chest.  Jesse fumbled behind on the bedside table for the
vial of KY, squirted a handful, and began massaging it into Mike.  The
reaction was immediate, if subtle, with Mike slowly undulating his ass to
match the movements of Jesse's hand.  Within another minute or so Jesse was
inside him, moving pushing forward slowly since Mike, not as regularly the
bottom, was still sensitive to the initial penetration.

       "Don' hold back, Jes."

       "I don't wanna hurt you or anything."

       " 'S OK," Mike purred.  "I want you to like own me, OK?"

       "I don't already?"

       Mike threw a playful punch back toward him, ineffectually.  "Jerk.
You know what I mean."

       "Ya," Jesse breathed as he rose up a little and drove in as deeply
as he could, "I know what you mean.  Like this."  Mike's groan, riding in
pitch, was the only reply.

       It took Jesse several long minutes of fucking, just enjoying having
Mike beneath him, and his body clasping his erection, before the animal
instincts began to rise.  The pleasure he felt from being linked so
urgently to Mike was enough, for a while - the movements of Mike's hips and
back as they flexed and relaxed against each other, the small noises each
made, their roving hands.  When the heat started to overcome Jesse, it do
so slowly, with great force. He started moving harder, faster, seeking
deeper and deeper penetration, gradually rolling more atop Mike and hearing
him groan and cry out into his pillow.  They kissed at times, Mike's head
turned at an awkward angle, with Jesse's lips eventually trailing off onto
his neck and shoulder.  Jesse's right hand started worrying Mike's nipples
to the point of being painful, moving to the other only when Mike shakily
grabbed his wrist and moved him.  His left hand, half caught beneath Mike,
held him fast by the shoulder.  I own him, Jesse thought.  He's mine, all
of him.  This ass, this nipple, this shoulder, his legs, the noises he
makes, his skin and his hair and his muscle and his sweat and his spit and
come.  Mine, mine to own and possess and fuck and get fucked and touch and
lick and kiss and love.  He was repeating Mike's name with each thrust as
he approached his climax, a hastening crescendo that grew louder and more
insistent until he finally groaned, "Oh, God," and rammed forward, pumping
himself into Mike with a long series of spasms.  Mike's right hand held him
at his hip, urging him onward, deeper, as he too lost it and shuddered
slowly down into a panting stillness.

       Jesse blinked his eyes back open, trying to focus.  He was slumped
over Mike's right side, facing his chest.  Mike's nipples were very erect
and reddened.  He moved his lips to the right one, kissing it
apologetically, softly.  Mike groaned, his hand cupping the back of Jesse's
head.  "Oh, shit, Jes," Mike said softly, rolling full onto his stomach.
Jesse fell off and curled himself against Mike's side, vaguely conscious of
the cool trail of semen his cock left across Mike's hip as he moved.

       Mike looked blearily at him.  His fingers caressed Jesse's hair,
just slightly.  "Mmmmmm," Mike sighed.  "I dunno what to say, dude."

       Jesse nuzzled at Mike's side.  "No need.  No mushy shit, right?"
The shoulder - his skin tasted so good.  "Besides, it was my turn."

       "What?"

       "To make you mine.  Remember?"

       "Oh."  Mike giggled.  "Geez, was it that intense for you?  Like when
we were in the sand and all that night?"

       "More."

       Another giggle.  "No way, dude, I am so out of it right now."

       "Me too."

       There was a soft throat clearing noise.  The boys' heads shot
upward, startled.  Erick was leaning against the bedroom door frame with an
earsplitting grin and visibly tented out boardshorts.  "Hi-de-ho, dudes."

       Jesse rolled onto his back and sat up on his elbows.  "Don't you
fuckin' knock or something?"  Erick started laughing, and Jesse couldn't
help joining in.  "How long've you been there?"

       Erick shrugged.  "Not long.  I mean you guys, um, you were like, um,
fucking, when I got here, and I was stayin' back there - " he motioned
toward the kitchen " - but you were like getting really loud, and, I,
y'know, got curious."  He grinned.  "You guys OK?  It, um, sounded like the
world was ending there for a bit."  His expression turned to one of
concern.  "Seriously, I - I didn't like watch you all the time - I saw,
like, what you were doing, and I went back in the kitchen. And just,
y'know, waited.  Till it was over, and all."

       "And listened real intently?" Mike was blushing, but smiling.  Jesse
wondered if the blush was from getting caught or from his arousal.

       Erick giggled again.  "Dude, it was hard not to hear -you guys got
kinda rowdy.  I mean for real, you gotta be careful - I think they knew
three blocks away that you were fucking."

       It was Jesse's turn to blush, as Mike looked at him devilishly.
Jesse knew he tended to get a bit noisy at times.  "Well, the window's
closed, so it should be OK."

       "I think the glass cracked, Jes," Mike teased him.  "You showed up
on the Richter scale when you came."

       Jesse threw his arms over his head in mock exasperation and flopped
back on the bed.  "So a couple of nerdy guys at Caltech got their jollies.
Big deal."

       Erick laughed, his knees bending a little.  His erection was still
very prominent against his shorts.  "So dude," Mike said, still in his
taunting voice, "you gonna take care of that before it gets loose and like
kills ten people?"  He motioned to the nearest, empty, corner of the bed.
"I think you need it."

       Now the blush was Erick's.  "Um, I, uh, I guess - well, sure, why
not?"  He pushed his shorts down, kicked them off, and sat on the bed, his
erection waving about.  "Um, d'you mind if I, like, look at you guys?
Y'know, while I'm like stroking and all?"

       Jesse shrugged.  "Course not.  It's kinda too late for us to be
modest or anything, right?"  Mike nodded his assent.

       "Coolness.  Thanks."  Erick took his cock in his left hand, glancing
over his shoulder at them, and started slowly moving his fist.  He took a
deep breath.  "You guys looked really amazing when I did peek in. When I
first got here," he said, his voice a bit tight.  His head rolled back a
bit as he started picking up speed.

       Mike and Jesse glanced at each other for a second, then rolled down
next to Erick.  Mike's hand ran onto Erick's chest.  "Did we look hot?" he
breathed into Erick's right ear as he teased the lobe with his tongue.

       Erick tensed a moment.  "Dude, is this - "

       "It's fine, Erick," said Jesse, as he leaned in from Erick's left
side to take a nipple into his mouth.  "Gonna see how loud we can get you
to be."

       "Oh, shit," Erick cried, quite loudly actually, as Jesse's teeth
gently closed on Erick's left nipple.

       Mike giggled.  "Better close the kitchen windows too this time."

       Erick tried to laugh but couldn't quite get the sound out properly.
"Dude, that's - I never - "

       "Didn't Taylor do this to you?" Jesse asked before dropping back
down.

       "Naw, just - oh God, Mike," as Mike's hand replaced Erick's own on
Erick's cock.  He started to fall backwards onto the bed, Mike and Jesse
following him down, caressing and stroking him.  Jesse rolled his ballsac
in his free hand.  Erick started arching upwards, groaning.  "Oh Christ,
dude, I'm - I'm - aaaawwwwww," and he came, firing all the way up onto his
face at first, then onto the back of Jesse's head and onto his cheek,
finally abating with a small pool in his pubic hair, his chest heaving.

       Mike and Jesse looked at each other with a smile. "I don't think he
came hard enough, Jes.  He didn't make nearly enough noise, y'know?"

       Erick was still having trouble laughing.  "Just cuz you guys are
fuckin' exhibitionists," he managed to croak out.

       "And he can talk already," Jesse observed with a grin.  "Had to be
really little.  We can make him really come now."

       Erick pulled away from them, his eyes alarmed.  "Shit, no, dudes, I
- I'm like all tingly already!  Don't - "

       "Dude, relax," Mike said, a hand on Erick's shin.  "We aren't gonna
do anything."  He sat up.  "That was just foolin' round, Erick, we didn't
mean anything bad - "

       "No, it's OK," Erick sighed, wiping his face.  "I just - God, that
was intense. I mean, with Taylor - I like came and all, but it wasn't like
I wanted to so bad - like I wanted to just now.  Before, it just sorta
happened."

       "Pretty cool?"  Mike asked.  Erick nodded, laughing (this time more
freely) and drooping back onto the bed.

       They sat like that for another ten minutes or so, talking idly about
idle subjects, occasionally reaching to wipe a bit of Erick's semen over
his torso.  Erick remained lying on the bed, a forearm behind his head.
"So," he finally asked, the hesitancy in his voice belying his casual
posture, "does this like mean we're gonna do more stuff now?  Together and
all?"

       Mike shrugged.  "Dunno.  I mean, maybe.  Sometime.  But look, dude,
this was just fuckin' around.  This wasn't, like, emotional, or anything,
right?"

       "Erick nodded.  "Ya, I know.  I sorta had to get off there, didn't
I?"  He grinned lopsidedly.

       "Nothing wrong with that," Jesse yawned, stretching.  He reached
down and pulled his shorts on.  The others joined him.

       "I was thinkin'," Erick said as he pulled on his T shirt, "I was
like imagining us all being like buds and all before.  Y'know, for sex and
all.  But I - I think I don't want that, really.  Just buds, like always.
Is that OK?"

       Mike and Jesse smiled.  "Of course," Mike said.  "I hope you didn;t
feel like we were tryin' to lure you in or something."

       "Naw," Erick scoffed.  "I just really needed to get off after -
after I saw you guys.  I mean fuck, lure me again, y'know?"

       Jesse smiled as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying not to
make it too obvious he was disentangling mats formed by Erick's dried
semen.  "You watched us more than you let on, didn't you?"

       Erick, blushed, turned away slightly.  "Well, for a minute or so.  I
mean, it was pretty hot."  He looked back at Jesse.  "Does that get you off
- thinking people like watch you when you're doing it?"

       Jesse glanced nervously over at Mike's computer.  They had been
checking out the latest marketing of Ron Gantry and Jamie Haller on the
Voyeur sate before making love.  Long as the screen saver is on we're safe,
he thought.  "Na, no big deal," he said, hoping it would sound relaxed.

       Jesse's cell rang.  It was Kate, who they hadn't heard from since
she left Erick's house the previous Thursday.  Damn, Jesse thought, not
even quite three days.  Too much happening, too quickly.  "Hey lovah," she
chirped happily, "how's the asshole?"

       Jesse giggled a bit self consciously.  "Are you referring to mine?"
Erick was looking straight at him, a faint crusting of semen still on his
cheek.

       "You know who I mean.  Did he get the message?"

       "Um, yeah.  Look, Kate, um - it's, like, a lot more, well,
complicated, than we all thought, OK?  And - and I think we're all cool
with each other here now.  On this end, y;know?"

       "Kate's voice was shocked.  "What the hell is goin' on?"

       Jesse felt more embarrassed by the second.  "Look, this, um, this
isn't a good conversation to have now, OK?  Like this.  I just - "

       Erick took the phone from him.  "Hey Kate."  Jesse couldn't hear if
Kate answered.  After a second or two, Erick continued.  "Look, I - I'm
really sorry.  I been acting like a total prick with - with you, and with
Jes and Mike.  And - and I like owe you more than just an apology, OK?  I
owe you - an explanation.  So I, um, I'd like to, like, sit down with you
someplace and explain some stuff, OK?  I mean, you can still think I'm a
jerkoff after, and maybe you will, but - just gimme that chance, OK?"  His
eyes were squinted shut; Jesse could see a little moisture form at the
inner edges.  Erick listened for a moment and nodded.  " 'K."  He looked
back at Jesse, holding out the phone wordlessly.  As Jesse took it, he fell
back onto the bed, hand over his eyes.

       "Jes?  What happened?  What's going on?"  Kate sounded alarmed.  "Is
- I never wanted - did things go wrong or anything?"

       "It's OK, it really is.  I think you should hear him out, OK?  It -
I think things are cool again, with all of us.  Or can be, anyway."  Erick
was looking at him, pleadingly; Jesse understood the unspoken request.
"Look, I'll come along if you want.  Me and - " he glanced over, got an
approving nod - "- me and Mike, if that'll make you feel more comfortable
and all."

       "Jes, is everything OK?"

       "Ya, it is, really.  It is now.  Let's like meet at Mr. Pete's
tomorrow for lunch, OK?"  He looked over at the other two boys, who nodded.

       He took a long look at Erick after he snapped the phone shut.  "You
really gonna tell her?  Everything?"

       Erick was staring at the palm over his eyes.  "Might as well.  I owe
it to her, don't I?"  He dropped his hand.  "I mean, I was really being a
fuckhead - with her, with you guys.  I wasn't like that - y'know, before,
and all."

       "I'm more worried" Mike said quietly, "about what you'll be like in
the future.  If you go with this guy and the sponsorship."

       "I know.  I - like I said, I think it's different now.  With me, and
I think it will be with him, too.  It's like I don't have to be scared.  I
say no to him now, and I got you guys to back me up."

       Jesse wondered how they could back Erick up if he found himself
shackled in the back of an RV in Baja again.  How much help could they
really be?  But Erick's dad was part of the equation now, too - at least on
the money side.  That would help, Jesse knew.  The rest - the rest he, and
Mike, would just have to leave to Erick, and to whatever kind of fortitude
he seemed to draw from the tow of them.  The whole thing made him feel
disturbingly responsible - on the hook for whatever might turn out.

       Mike was watching Jesse intently.  Their eyes locked for a moment.
"You know best dude," Jesse finally said.  "We got your back as much as we
can, you know that.  But there are limits, right?  We can't be with you - "

       "I don't need a dad, OK?  I got one.  I - I just need buds, Jes.
Mike."

       Mike sighed.  "You got that, dude.  You know that."  He twisted up
one corner of his mouth.  "I gotta stay buds with anybody who's got a cock
that big."

	The comment broke the tension, and they all fell back in laughter.
Mike's mother found them like that a minute later, still guffawing loudly.
"Oh good, I'm glad to see you're here, Erick.  Keep these two out of
trouble."  Her eyes flashed as she said it, looking at Jesse and Mike.
Mike cringed.

The conversation with Kate went about as Jesse had expected.  She shifted
quickly from bemused contempt for Erick to horrified sympathy, to a furious
(and loud) dissertation on exactly how she wanted to cut off Taylor
Castilla's balls and feed them to him.  The sponsorship idea in particular
infuriated her; it too nearly a half an hour of begging from Erick to calm
her down.  They were fortunate that the dining area at Mr. Pete's was
deserted (not unusual for a summer Monday before noon) and that the staff,
back around the corner, was all Hispanic and probably couldn't have
understood them too well in any event.  They finally broke up as a lunch
crowd started arriving, moving our onto the front patio for a short time
before parting, with Kate giving Erick a crushing hug that brought him
again to the brink of tears.

	Jesse pedaled down to Pedro's and up the hill, grinding slowly in a
low gear against the steep incline.  No matter how good a shape he was in,
getting home this way was hard.  Next year I'll be able to drive, he
thought.  Only a little while till I can get my permit - that'll be so
cool.

	His mother's car was in the driveway, which was unusual.  He
panicked - had she discovered anything?  He'd slipped a large check into
the mail that morning to cover the mortgage shortfall, but she couldn't
have known about that already . . .  The roses were nodding under the
weight of their own blossoms in the midday heat.

	As he poked at the kickstand with his foot, panting a little, she
appeared in the doorway.  "Hi baby, great news!!  Uncle Booth just deployed
home - he'll be here for dinner!"