Date: Wed, 17 Oct 2012 11:49:41 -0700
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Big Time  Chapter 41

Welcome back to the story. In the high school story line, things keep
going downhill for the boys. Eric realizes something needs to be done
to promote team unity, and Marty might just have the solution. For the
seventh graders, they find that The Go to State Group might need a
lawyer, and Marty might know just the person. Marty also finds
himself the object of hero worship from a whirling Hurricane. Enjoy.

The story is mine. Be 18 to read. Minors are in sexual situations. Oh,
and please join me in contributing to Nifty.

CHAPTER 41
GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS

<Senior year-Tuesday, June 19>

We had a busy week of baseball coming up. An away league game
today, practice on Wednesday, a league game on Thursday, a home
league game on Saturday, and an away doubleheader on Sunday.
The first game of the Sunday doubleheader was a league game and
the second game was a non-league game. The Sunday games were
at Longview and we would be playing Austin's team, which would be
a fun reunion.

Scott started the Tuesday game, which was played at Kentburg,
home of the mighty Kentburg Royals. Scott was better than he had
been the week before, but he was still erratic as he often overthrew
the ball which led to ill-timed walks. On top of that we had fielding
problems at third, as Danny struggled there again, and we didn't hit
the ball, punching out only three hits. We ended up losing 4-0 to drop
our record to 3-8. To make it even worse we weren't even going
against Ben, Kentburg's ace pitcher.

One of the good things to happen was seeing Marty's old buddies
Royce and Lance, who were a pretty cool pair for Kentburg boys. The
fact that they were a gay couple, albeit closeted when it came to their
Kentburg friends and teammates, had many of us Mayfield boys
feeling close to them. Kevin, Noah, Kraig, Lars, Hunter, and I chatted
with them after the game.

"No offense, but you guys really suck," Royce said.

"And you know we suck very well," Noah said.

Royce flipped him off and went on. "I was expecting a tough game
from you guys, but word is you're soft, and the word is true. You need
Marty and them back to kick some ass."

"How about we just take your ass," Kevin said.

"See what I mean?" Royce asked. "You guys's problem is you're all a
bunch of sex fiends."

"I never heard you complain about that before," Noah said. Some of
us Mayfield boys had had a couple of tumbles in bed with Royce and
Lance.

"Hey, I know what you're saying," I said, ever the serious diplomat.
"We really do miss the old seniors, but we haven't played like we can
either. Everybody says we don't have any fire, and I think it's true, but
that's something we can change."

"We think next spring might be our year," Lance said. "A lot of us
seniors have been starting since we were sophs and we think next
spring we might be the team to beat in league." The Kentburg
summer team was 12-1, so Lance wasn't being cocky; he was just
stating the truth. Kentburg was playing well and we weren't.

"Hey, we got a kegger on Saturday" Royce said. "You guys are
invited. It's stag, but not a gay thing since me and Lance are the only
gay boys in all of Kentburg...if you don't count all the guys who fuck
their cousins and their brothers and their uncles and their fathers..."
He had us all rolling with laughter after his little description of
Kentburg teen males.

"We play Sunday," Kraig said. "But it sounds like fun."

"Like you've ever been to a kegger, Kraig," Lars said.

"All I said is that it sounds like fun. And I've been to keggers, just
didn't get wasted or anything."

"That's the other problem with you guys, you really are too clean
living. Fuck you guys never get drunk or stoned or party or anything
like that. Even Marty ended up quitting drinking, and I've never seen
anybody drink like him," Royce said.

"Hey, we've never given up wild sex," Kevin said.

"You've got a point there. Marty was probably better in bed sober
than he was when he was drinking. But seriously, you should come to
the party. You can't play much worse hung over than what you're
playing now."

"Or you could just come to Mayfield for the night, be sober, and get
your royal Kentburg asses fucked."

"Some other time, but with no game on Sunday, getting wasted
sounds like fun. But we sure wish we lived in Mayfield. The guys in
our town who loved messing around back in middle school and even
later are all sleeping with girls now, and some of them aren't even
their sisters," Lance said. He wrapped his arm around Royce's waist.
"But I always have my main squeeze here."

"Okay, you guys stay cool. We'll see you later," Kevin said.

"Hey, I'm serious about your team. What you need is to all get
together and get drunk on your asses. It sure as fuck can't hurt,"
Lance said. "Later."

At practice on Wednesday, Coach Miller gave us the expected talk on
our attitudes and how we weren't going full out like we always had
before. We told him we were trying, and he told us to quit trying and
to just do it.

"Trying isn't what we're after. We're after results. You can or you
can't; either way you're right."

What we didn't tell him is that part of our frustration had to do with
some players not playing in their best positions. A lot of us had the
feeling we weren't putting out our best lineup. We understood that in
part since we'd had a set lineup for years and now Coach Miller,
which also meant Coach Sanders, was experimenting to find the right
combinations. We all talked about what our best lineup would be, but
no matter how we put things together we came up with weaknesses
almost as bad as what we already had.

Like I've said before, when I came up with this whole state
tournament idea I thought the real talent was in my class, the ones
who were sixth graders back then. But now we all were feeling like
the key to winning State this year wasn't our class at all. Instead it
was the seniors, and we simply didn't have what it took to win back-
to-back titles.

Noah and I both felt differently from most of our team. We thought we
had the talent and we had the experience to win again, but
somewhere we'd lost our will and our confidence. The challenge of
this summer was to get it back.

Thursday we were home against one of the two Centralia teams. This
time we were playing against a bunch of Lars's old friends, and again
that part of the game was fun. But we were impatient at the plate and
once again we couldn't score. I pitched pretty well, going all seven
innings as we lost 5-2. Our defensive problems were an issue, as we
allowed three runs to score on errors.

As I left the field for the parking lot after the game I was accosted by
Jeff and Nicky, who were pushing their bikes.

"So, when's it going to happen?" Jeff asked me. He was asking about
me fucking him, of course.

"Are you sure you can't talk Marty into doing it?"

"He says he's done about everything else with me, he wanted
somebody else to take my cherry. He says he's corrupted most of me
and somebody else can finish it, but maybe he'll take seconds.
Maybe."

"Look, call me next week some time, okay?"

"So, you'll do it? Awesome."

"No, We'll talk about it. I need to talk with a couple of other guys
before I decide anything."

"You can't stall forever," Jeff said. "I know you want it, I can tell. Nick
says you are really good at fucking and he told me all about you
rimming him, too. Time for you to teach us younger dudes what sex is
all about. We gotta keep the Mayfield tradition going."

"Call me next week," I repeated. "You guys have fun until then."

Nicky gave Jeff a big kiss on his lips and grabbed his crotch. "Oh, we
will," Nick said with a big grin.

"For sure," Jeff said, rubbing a bulge in his shorts.

I headed for the parking lot, where dad was patiently waiting for me,
and put my stuff in the car. I quickly changed shirts, pulled off my
baseball pants and put my shorts over the gym shorts I'd been
wearing underneath, and sat in the front seat of the car. Dad dropped
me off at Bob's Burger Barn, where I would be meeting some of my
teammates.

Marty, Rich, and Connor were at Bob's Burger Barn along with most
of the team. Blaine, Gavin, Chandler, Justin, and Scott were the
players on the team who weren't there. Skip and Jeremy from the
Centralia team joined us as well. While the two of them claimed not to
be gay, they did admit to being bed buddies since seventh grade.

"You guys really suck," Connor said.

"Yeah, you suck totally," Jeremy said. "I was surprised by how bad
you were."

"Great," I said. "Everybody says we suck, so I guess it must be true."

"It's all about perception," Noah philosophized. "And perception often
becomes reality."

"A record of 3-9 seems pretty real to me," I said.

"From what I saw today," Marty said, "all the spark you guys had all
these years is gone. You look like you're having no fun at all. You
know, if the game isn't fun it becomes work."

"And then it becomes drudgery," Noah added, "and that's where we
are. None of us know how to change it, but we know it has to
change."

"Maybe we should just to do what Royce and Lance told us to do,"
Kevin said.

"What's that?" Marty asked. "Although, knowing those two I probably
don't need to ask. They told you to have a big party where you all get
drunk together, right?"

"You figured it out," Kevin said.

"I told you I knew those two. Most of you guys don't drink booze, or
don't drink much, plus you all agreed not to drink during the season.
While I'm not part of the team any more, I still give the idea a rating of
`S' for Stupid."

"I don't think any of us took it that seriously," Danny said.

"I'll tell you what I think you should do," Marty said. "You will probably
think this is typical Marty crap, but I'm serious. Take a look at who is
here and who isn't here. I don't see a single non-senior here, but all
the seniors are here but Scott, who I guess is so pussy whipped he
couldn't say no to his woman."

"Okay, so we're all seniors, but the other guys were all invited," Carl
said.

"Yeah, but they didn't come. Do you know what all of us had in
common through the years, even the straight guys?"

"Sex?" Kraig asked.

"You get a `B' for Brilliance. Yes, sex."

"So we should have a big team orgy?" I asked, not particularly liking
the idea.

"Oh, hell no," Marty said. "Orgies are too complicated and confusing.
Some guys get left out, and some guys keep themselves out. Nope,
what I'm thinking is each senior should have sex with two guys on the
team he's never done anything with before. And by sex, I mean
anything from jerking off on up the scale. I doubt you're going to get
some straight junior to want to fuck, but everybody jerks off."

This really did sound like a typical Marty idea. He liked to think that
sex solved the world's problems, and he might just be right. "You're
talking about us having three ways with the two new guys?"

"If you want, but you can do them separately, together, or whatever
works. Think about who on this team you've at least jerked off with
and who you've done nothing with."

I thought about my sexual history with my teammates. I'd had sex of
some sort with Scott, Danny, Kraig, Kevin, Lars, Noah, Hunter, Carl,
Korey, Justin, and Chandler, if you include some of our middle school
orgies. That left just Gavin and Blaine whom I hadn't done something
with, but I'd witnessed Gavin have sex with somebody else, namely
Marty.

"Nice idea," Kevin said. "but I think Gavin and Blaine are the only
ones most of us haven't done something with."

"Okay then, throw out the little orgies and the circle jerks. Get right
down to one-on-one sex. Now think who you haven't done it with,"
Marty instructed.

That put Kraig, Kevin, and Lars on my list of possibilities. Everything
I'd done with them had been in a group or in a threesome or
foursome. It put Chandler and Korey on the list for the same reason.
And as for Carl and Hunter, I'd only done things with them in an orgy
or circle jerk situation. Suddenly the list had gotten longer.

"I'd say no threesomes," Noah said. "One and one sex, even if it's just
jerking off. The team that cums together says together."

"But we had five years to do a lot of our stuff," I protested. "We don't
have that kind of time now," I protested. "And some guys, like Blaine,
might tell us all to...um...fuck off.

"Oh, bullshit," came a surprise voice. It was Connor. "You know I'm
no gay guy, but I've done sex shit with some of you. I mean I got
other good friends, but somehow I feel tighter to you guys that I mess
around with."

"It's all about being a Mustang," Rich said.

"Let's talk about it after our game on Saturday," Noah suggested. "We
can have a players only meeting like they do in the pros."

We all agreed the idea was worth pursuing. We all needed something
to bring us together, because we sure weren't together now.

++++++++++

<Seventh Grade, Wednesday, October 10, Mayfield Middle School>

Eric was sitting at a lunch table with Noah, Rich, and Rodney: the
four of them comprised the executive board of the Go to State Team.
They were busily discussing the full board meeting of the night
before, which had been held in the back room of Pooh Bear's Pizza,
which we usually just called The Bear. Seth McCall told them he was
treating, an offer none of them could refuse.

Seth didn't sit in on the meeting, however. Instead, he chatted with
Gary, the owner of the pizza parlor in his back office while the group
went over its business. There were two items of new business to
discuss. One of them was what the name of their summer team
would be and the other was the information the Donkey had been
able to glean from his friend Bryce, the junior class vice president
about the contracts for the ad space at the high school field.

Allen Hawkins, Hunter's father, who was the team's primary sponsor,
had told the executive board in a meeting that the team he dropped at
the end of the summer had been named the Falcons. He told them if
the Team was willing to accept that name it would save him a lot of
money on uniforms, money he could use to help the team in other
ways. The uniforms had only been used that one summer and were
practically new. They knew that as their sponsor he could have told
them that they were going to be the Falcons and that's all there was
to it.

But it was a measure of the respect that he and the other adults the
kids were working with had for the group that had Mr. Hawkins
trusting them to make the decision themselves.

After some discussion and the usual parliamentary stuff that the boys
were becoming more adept at, they voted on a motion that had been
made by Chandler and seconded by Kraig, that they approve Falcons
as their team name. The measure passed unanimously. While the
boys had some other names they liked, the telling factor in the vote
was that there was no reason not to be the Falcons. They realized
that by saving Allen and Champion Sporting Goods money, they were
helping themselves in the long run.

Mike and Ryan, the Donkey and Dawg, had been invited to the
meeting. While they weren't really members of the Go to State Team,
they loved what their middle school friends were doing and were
eager to help as much as they could. After Mike gave his report on
the advertising contracts, the group decided that this was a complex
situation that required some adult guidance. Noah went out into the
main part of the restaurant and asked his dad to come in.

What Mike told Mr. McCall was that the high school baseball program
had not been following the contract when it came both to payments to
the summer teams playing on the school fields, or when it came to
allowing summer teams to post their own advertising signs.

"This is some pretty serious stuff you've unearthed," Mr. McCall said.
"I suppose the first question is what is it you boys want to do? This
could lead to some big problems for some people, especially Coach
Collins and the school athletic director, if it is shown they intentionally
allowed money to go to the school baseball program that was
supposed to go to the summer programs."

"We don't care about that stuff," Kevin said. "All we want is to get
what we're supposed to get when we use that field."

Most of the other boys agreed with Kevin, although Connor threw out
his usual contrary opinion. "Fuck `em, if they don't do what they're
supposed to do they should get their asses kicked. That's what they'd
do if it was us who fucked up."

"I'm a pretty good businessman," Noah's dad said, "but I know little
about the law. That's why my business uses a lawyer when legal
issues come up."

"Then maybe we should forget it," Eric said. "There's no way we can
afford to get a lawyer to help us. We don't want to get anybody into
trouble...,"

"Except maybe Connor," Vince shouted out.

"...we just want to get what we should get."

"Yeah, it's not like we have to have the money from the ads," Rodney
said. "At least I don't think we do."

Mr. McCall wasn't finished with what he had to say. "I have a friend
who is a lawyer. His main office is in Centralia, but he maintains a
part-time office here in Mayfield. He isn't the lawyer my company
generally uses because when we have issues they are usually in the
area of transportation, which isn't his area of expertise. But he's a
good lawyer and a great guy."

"That's great," Lars said, "but like Eric says, we can't afford a lawyer
to help us."

"He might be willing to work pro bono," Mr. McCall said.

"Pro boner? That sounds kind of kinky," Marty said, which generated
a round of laughter from his teammates.

"That's pro bono, Marty, and essentially it means he will work for
free." Mr. McCall fished a folder out of the briefcase he'd brought with
him. He pulled out a business card and handed it to Eric.

"I like pro boner better," Marty said.

"Yeah, better than the amateur boner like you got," Connor said
amidst more laughter.

Eric could feel his heart thumping. There was no way he wanted to
call up a lawyer and ask if he would work for free, no way in the
whole world he wanted to that. He was about to ask Mr. McCall if he
would make the call when he remembered that turning things over to
adults when the going got tough wasn't what the Go to State Team
was about. It was about them, as kids, doing everything they could to
run their own group, so he kept his mouth shut.

"What's the guy's name?" Danny asked.

"George Bednarzyck. He lives a couple of blocks from us and his
office is on Main Street near the town hall."

"Oh, that's Mr. B," Marty said, "I know him."

"You do?" half the team asked at once. All of them had the same
thought—what kind of trouble had Marty gotten into that he knew a
lawyer?

Marty realized he'd stuck his foot in his mouth, and sheepishly said
he knew him from something else, not because he was a lawyer. But
the fact that Marty knew him gave Eric an idea.

"Do you want to talk to him about helping us?"

"By myself?" There was no way Marty would do that. He had enough
problems trying to do the homework Mr. B asked him to do, let alone
asking him for something.

"No. If you set up an appointment, I'll help you."

"I'll help, too," Rich said, forgetting this was Marty they were talking
about. Marty gave Rich a quick glare and thought about saying no to
doing anything with anybody, but then he gained control of himself, at
least for the moment. This was about business, not about Rich trying
to be friends again, so even though he hated Rich for causing him
have gay feelings, he figured George would be happy that he could
work with somebody he had a big resentment against.

"Okay, I'll ask him if he will meet with us."

"It has to be in the evening," Eric said.

"Duh. I didn't think they'd let us out of school or football practice."
Both Eric and Noah could see Marty's good mood quickly slipping
away. Eric speedily brought the meeting back to order. They didn't
have anything more to discuss, so Eric adjourned the meeting and
the boys dispersed.

So now the four of them were together the next day discussing the
previous night's meeting. The topic started to shift from how the high
school was cheating the summer teams to why it was Marty knew a
lawyer.

"I bet he got in trouble with his drinking," Rodney said. "You know, he
got caught with booze or something by the police."

"Yeah, but he called the guy Mr. B, like he knew him really well,"
Noah said.

"Well, yeah," Rodney said. "Mr. B is a lot easier to say than Mr.
Bedwhoozitz or whatever his name is."

"Marty said he was going to see him tonight," Eric said. "We'll see if
he makes it to that appointment."

As if on cue, Marty came by the table. "Are you guys talking about
me?"

"I guess your ears were burning, because we were," Noah said. "As
in, we hope you are going to talk to your lawyer friend about making
an appointment."

"Don't worry, I won't forget," Marty said. Although I would like to
forget, he thought to himself. Then he gave one of his leers and said,
"I'm horny. Anybody want to sneak past The Schnoz with me and jerk
off in one of the stalls in the main bathroom? See who cums the
fastest?"

The Schnoz was the paid hall monitor. He was called that because of
his big bulbous nose. The boys had discovered the year before that
he would look the other way if he thought two boys were going into
the bathroom for something sexual. They figured him for a perv, but
they liked that they could go into the main bathroom instead of the
ones in the commons. There was privacy there while the commons
had boys coming and going all of the time.  The boys being boys,
they liked the idea of having a private place to shoot off their
tensions.

"Not much time left in the lunch period." Noah said.

"What, you can't get off that fast?" Marty said.

Rich thought about saying yes to going to the bathroom, but he
remembered Marty's glare from the night before and so he kept
silent. He liked it better when Marty ignored him.

"Well, next time then. I'll call ya about the appointment, Eric," Marty
said as he walked away from the table.

"You can always tell when Marty isn't drinking booze," Rodney says.
"That's when he gets horny twenty-four seven."

The boys cleaned their lunch remains up and headed out to the
commons area. It was almost time for the bell to ring.

<Seventh Grade, Wednesday, October 17, George Bednarzyck's
house.

Marty had just finished his studying with Mr. B. He listened quietly
while his mentor chided him for not taking the reading and writing
assignments he was given seriously. He was supposed to learn about
Steps and Traditions and spiritual stuff, but he became bored by it,
even though Mr. B kept saying it was important.

"You still don't seem ready to go to any lengths to stop drinking,
Marty," George concluded. "Remember, the rule is `you can never
drink again'."

"No, you said it's just a day at time," Marty said sullenly, refusing to
make eye contact with Mr. B.

"You never drink again by not drinking a day at a time. It's a pretty
sound formula if you think about it. Doing those steps is how you
learn to get through all of those days."

"Whatever. I'm not gonna change the way I am. I don't wanna be
somebody different. I just don't want to get all drunk and stupid any
more."

"To do that you only have to change one thing, Marty."

"Oh, just one? You keep telling me about all this shit...er...stuff I
gotta change, and now you say I only gotta change one thing? Make
up your mind."

Mr. B knew that these sessions were going to be difficult, having dealt
with Donald. At least Donald had had the benefit of having gone to a
treatment center, and he seemed to want what George had to offer
much more than Marty did. As much as he liked Marty, George found
Marty a very, very stubborn young teen. "The one thing you have to
change is everything, Marty. Think that one over for next time. And
calling me each day is still a good idea."

"I keep forgetting."

"Well, you don't have to forget to go the meeting in Centralia with me
on Saturday."

"I don't? You mean we're not gonna go."

"I have business to take care of Saturday. I think it might be a good
day for you to go to Olympia with Donald."

"What the f...what's in Olympia?"

"A teen meeting. It's time for you to meet some more kids like you."

"Yeah, but if they're at that meeting then they're probably all a bunch
of alcoholics."

"That's why they're there," Mr. B said.

"So, see, they're not like me at all."

At that point, Mr. B.  wanted to scream, but he prayed to himself
quickly and said nothing. "Well, thanks for coming, Marty, and I'll see
you next Wednesday, and I hope to talk to you a few times before
then. The fact that you at least show up on Wednesdays tells me
something, like maybe some of this is oozing into that thick skull of
yours."

George started to stand up, but when Marty didn't he sat back down.
"Something on your mind?"

"Can I ask about something different?" he asked with unaccustomed
shyness.

"Feel free, I'm ready to listen."

Marty quickly explained the Go to State Team to George, told him
about what their goals were and what they had accomplished, and
then went into the issue with the contracts.

"You're telling me you middle school kids did all of this yourself?"
George asked somewhat incredulously.

"Pretty much, but we hired a business manager to help us. He said
we should talk to you and I said I knew you and they said then you
can talk to him. So I'm talking."

"Just exactly do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Just let us meet with you so you can tell us what to do."

"You say you hired your business manager. Who is he and what are
you paying him?'

"He's Seth McCall. We don't have any money to pay him, but he
treated us all to pizza yesterday."

George Bednarzyck couldn't help but come up with a good loud
laugh. "I am not laughing at you, Marty, before you think that. I just
think this is one of the greatest things I've heard in a long time." He
gathered his wits and asked if they'd "hired" anybody else, thinking
the answer would be no. He was pleasantly surprised to find out
otherwise.

"Yeah, we've hired our coach."

"Amazing. And you've recruited your sponsors, you said?"

"Yeah."

"Totally amazing." He shook his head in admiration and then said, "I
don't think it's a good idea for me to meet with all of you. Maybe a
small group would do."

"That's what we thought. Me, Rich, and Eric want to meet with you.
Rich is like our vice president and Eric, he is the chairman or
president or whatever he's called."

Once again Mr. B was pleased with what he heard. They had already
appointed a committee and had thought things out ahead.

"Let me check my appointment calendar with my secretary tomorrow
and I'll call you. I assume you'd like an after school appointment."

"Well, me and Rich have football except on Fridays and Eric plays
soccer, but I don't know when."

"So something in the evening would do?"

"Yeah. But remember we don't have any money. Maybe you could
help us pro boner or something."

This time Mr. B stifled a guffaw and merely said, "Pro bono."

"Oh, yeah, I knew that."

Their meeting finally ended, Marty grabbed his hoodie and got ready
to leave. As George walked him to the door, Jeff came down, already
in a pair of X-Men pajamas. "Aren't you going to read to me tonight?"

"Marty and I went a little late tonight, Jeffrey. He'll get you next time,"
George said.

"He missed last time and I want him to. Please daddy?"

George looked at Marty with an expression that said, "It's up to you."

"Okay. I'll read, but only because I missed last time."

Yeahhhh." Jeff jumped up on Marty, almost knocking him on his butt,
and wrapped his feet around Marty's waist, planting a big, wet kiss on
his cheek.

"But if you're not asleep in a half hour, I'm stopping."

"Okay. Now come on before the half hour is up." Jeffrey untangled
himself and dashed up the stairs.

Marty looked over at George who shrugged his shoulders.

"He likes you. And don't forget that. He likes you, the sober Marty."
Marty said nothing. He turned and followed Jeffrey up the stairs.

When he entered Jeff's room, the boy was already in his bed and
under his covers. He saw the seven year old's head and bare
shoulders sticking out. Jeff had shed his pajama tops, which were on
the chair next to the bed. Also on the chair was a book, "If You Give a
Mouse a Cookie" by Felicia Bond.

He picked up the pajama top and tossed into Jeff's face and then
picked up the book and sat in the chair. "Aren't the books we're
reading kind of young for a second grader?"

"They're Sammy's books; I read them all when I was little," Jeff said.
"But I like them for when I go to bed because if I fall asleep I won't
miss anything."

Marty had to admit that Jeff's piece of logic made as much sense as
the other lines of logic that the boy had thrown at him. "Why did you
take you pajama tops off?" Marty asked, wondering what kind of logic
would be thrown at him this time. Instead of logic, however, Jeff threw
the top back at Marty, hitting him in the face.

"Because, I want you to come on my bed with me this time." Marty
had read to Jeff the week after he'd read about Alexander's day, but
he'd read from the chair rather than lying next Jeff on his bed. He
hadn't wanted to go through the whole touching and rubbing thing
again.

Then Jeff totally surprised Marty by saying, "I like it when you pet
me."

"I'll come on your bed next time," Marty said. "We'll have more time
then and I promise to pet you." Marty was not at all sure why he
made that promise except that he really liked the little boy and liked
making Jeff happy. At that moment it occurred to him that just being
around the bubbly seven year old made him happy as well.

"Promise? Totally promise? You double swear and hope to die if you
don't do it?"

"Yes to all of that." Marty knew that what he swore to was "petting"
Jeff the next time he read to him. He also knew that he hadn't sworn
to come back again. Marty wasn't sure he wanted to keep coming
back. He was tired of being told he was an alcoholic and being told
he had to quit drinking forever. I'm only fourteen, he thought. Maybe
dad is right, I just have to learn to drink like a man and I'll be okay.

As Marty read the book he noticed that Jeff never took his eyes off of
him. Had Marty been a little more perceptive, he would have seen a
big case of hero worship in those eyes, and would have understood
that Jeff had a huge little boy crush on the athletic young teen sitting
in his bedroom.

Marty finished reading and closed the book. He noticed that Jeff was
still awake. "Okay, dude, time for me to go."

"I wish you could sleep with me," Jeff said. "We could eat cookies
together before we go to sleep."

"I snore real loud," Marty said. "You'd never get any sleep at all."

"You don't snore," Jeff said. "You're making that up. You're too nice
to snore." Jeff had seen Marty sleep and knew that he didn't snore,
but he had seen Marty drool a little in his sleep.

"Oh, my snores make the whole house shake. They make my brother
think we're in an earthquake."

"Uh, uh. Nobody snores like that."

"You don't know that," Marty said. He was having fun telling his little
tall tale to Jeff. "You've never slept with me, so you've never heard
me. And if you did sleep with me, you wouldn't sleep because of my
snoring." God, I'm starting to sound like Jeff, Marty thought.

"Then you gotta spend the night with me so I can find out," Jeff said.
Marty realized that he'd been outfoxed by the seven year old.
"Promise you'll do it with me."

"The only thing I promise is that I'll lie on your bed and read to you
next time I'm here."

"Okay. I love you, Marty."

Marty moved over to Jeff's bed and sat on it, putting his arm around
Jeff's bare shoulder. He loved the satiny feel of the little boy's soft,
warm skin and couldn't help but let his hand drift from his shoulder to
his bare chest.

Jeff let out a soft, "Hmmmm," and closed his eyes. Marty kept rubbing
the boy's chest, as he felt himself get hard, chastising himself for
getting onto Jeff's bed and for his sexual feelings as his hand rubbed
along Jeff's chest and farther down to his belly. He could swear Jeff
was almost purring as he shuddered from the feelings the touch of
Jeff's skin was giving him.

Marty saw that Jeff had fallen sleep. He smiled and eased his hand
away from the boy. Once again he gave him a chaste kiss on the
forehead. He realized that in the brief time he'd known him that he
was coming to love the little boy. Not the sexual kind of love he like
he'd felt for Rich, or the lust kind of love he'd had for Eric, Lance or
Royce. No, it was more a big brother kind of love. Of course he didn't
intellectually understand these thoughts of love, but that didn't keep
them from existing.

Next: Halloween Dance