Date: Sat, 26 May 2001 16:01:26 -0700 (PDT) From: Danny DeWinter` <dannydewinter@yahoo.com> Subject: weirdday part 1 Warning: The following story is a work of fiction and as such is just a story. This story may containsex between teenage boys, a man and a teenage boy and other male teens. If you are underage, or this is illegal where you are delete this file (or hit the back button on your browser The author retains the copyright for this story. Placing this story on a commercial web site without the authors permission is a violation of that copyright. This is my first "Nifty" story. Let me know what you think. dannydewinter@yahoo.com Weird Day By Danny deWinter It was definitely the weirdest day of my life. I mean I'm an A student, Teacher's pet, Put-ahead-a-grade-smart-kid, so I never skip school. But this morning I had an itch for adventure and $30 in cash my mom gave me to buy my junior high yearbook, advanced sale price. Since they only sent the notice home yesterday I would probably be the first one to have my money in, typical. Geeze, what a loser, who's gonna sign it anyway. Brains aren't popular. Anyway, I can't miss school, I've got homework due and I could miss something important. Of course one of my nerdy friends would get my homework for me and I don't think there's been anything "important" said at school since Mr. Edwards announced, "Please try to make it to the trash can." after Cynthia Lovell barfed all over her desk. "Danny, I'm leaving now. Love you. Be safe." That's my mom. "Bye Mom" I called out as she left for work. I really don't have to go to school; she won't know where I've gone. The more I rationalized the easier it seems. I would do a Ferris Bueller. Except I'm not cool and don't have any friends to call and I'm certainly not dating a hot girl like Mia Sara. It's not that I'm not interested; I'm just not very popular and a little shy and really I don't understand all the "mystery" anyway. Okay, an adventure, by myself, today. There's absolutely nothing stopping me, perfect weather, a bit cool maybe. I'll wear my coat. Humm, where to go? What to do? The world is my oyster. I've tried this a hundred times before. I always chicken out. I think about it until the last second then I run to school, bouncing backpack, arms and legs flailing like an idiot, drop into my seat, hair stuck to my sweaty forehead, out of breath, sweatshirt like a sauna. Someone in my class will make funny comment, but I won't get a tardy. I always slip in just under the bell. And actually, isn't planning an adventure just as good as doing it, really? It doesn't cost anything and I won't get in trouble and I can get my yearbook for $5 off. Anyway what if I got caught, ugh makes my stomach hurt. I glance nervously at the clock, seven minutes if I run.. ten left.. If I start now I can stop in the boy's room, wipe some of the sweat off and run a comb through my hair. Come on, an adventure. By myself. Today. I'm smart, I'm thirteen, I can do it! I know I'll just let the clock run out, like a close basketball game. Nine minutes- what about a note for Monday? Be strong, you'll think of something. Eight minutes- do I have a quiz in geometry? No, that's next Wednesday. Seven minutes and thirty seconds- there's really nothing I rather do than go to school. I like school. Maybe I could get a chess game at lunch with Mr. Bradshaw, the Student Advisor. Seven minutes and ten seconds - I grip my backpack, I'm sliding it forward, I look toward the door. What can I say; I'm a good boy. I was still looking toward the door when a miracle happened. As I slid my backpack off the table a strap caught on my cereal bowl. A tiny click, I look down and watched, in slow motion, as the bowl falls into my lap. Corn Pops and low fat milk right on the front of my chinos. Seven minutes and twenty seconds - I can feel the still cold milk soaking through my briefs. The unbreakable Corelle ware bowl shatters on the floor. Oh, shit I'm gonna be late for school. I yank my pants and underwear down to my knees as I jump up from the table. As I turn for my room, again in slow motion, I trip over my own pants - did I mention I was smart - and fall face forward toward the floor. I can see the wicked shards of the broken bowl zooming towards me. My arms brace for impact but as I hit I feel a stabbing pain in my knee. Geeze, I've sliced my knee open, Shit! Ow, Shit, damn, ouch. I carefully get to my feet. Actually my wrists hurt more than my knee; they took all the impact on the tile floor. I sit and gingerly pull out the splinter of bowl from my knee, it's bleeding pretty bad. The clock. Six minutes and 30 seconds. I'm really going to be late. Or.. my adventure. It's not off to the best start but what the heck I'm skipping school. Blood is starting to really run down my leg. I use paper towels to stanch the bleeding and limp / waddle into the bathroom, my pants still down below my knees. The cut isn't all that bad and two band-aids cover it. I wash out my pants, shirt and underwear in the bathroom sink before throwing them in the washing machine and I didn't bother to put anything on to clean the kitchen floor. The cool air on my naked body adds to the badness of playing hooky, ditching, being truant. Even though I'm an only child and I live with just my Mom, I never walk around the house naked. I don't know exactly why, I just don't. In a few minutes everything's back in place, I take just a moment to run my hands over my chest. I'm a chilly and my nipples are, you know, sticking out a little. Goose bumps and shivers all the way down. I look down, no hair, of course, I hope puberty kicks in soon. It's kind of embarrassing in the locker room for me since I'm still a baldy. It's bad enough when some moron calls you Miss on the phone, but because I wear my hair a little longish I actually has an old couple ask my sex. I had just got my hair "styled" and the barber sort of spiked it on top and I thought it looked pretty cool. So I stopped at the store for a candy bar and this older couple, while I'm waiting in line, minding my own business, taps me on the shoulder and asks me, "Are you a boy or a girl?" God don't you hate those kind of people! I turned very red and stammered out in my squeakiest voice, "I'm a boy!" (Remember I told you I was smart.) Damn haircut. Since then I've thought of at least a dozen very choice things to say to them. Honestly, if I could go back in time I probably would have pulled down my pants right there and let them decide for themselves! Sorry I digress. My Adventure - the world - my oyster. I put on my only pair of boxer shorts, a plaid pair I got from a hip aunt who actually realizes I'm growing up. I'm a rebel with a cause. Blue jeans replace chinos and since I don't have a beret like Ferris I spike up my hair with 3 pounds of gel and a whole bottle of hair spray. All right! Well actually I still look like a nerd because the pants aren't very baggy and I don't own any of those cool skateboarder tee shirts. But the polo I have on does have a hole in it and it's a little faded. In the hall closet is an old army field coat that was my dad's. It hangs down to my knees, but very cool. Now where to go? The arcade and the movies seem redundant since I have every game on my computer and a VCR with a million tapes. It's still early so the mall won't be open for hours and a thirteen-year-old walking around in the mall on a school day is pretty obvious. I can just imagine that older couple, "Aren't you supposed to be in school, young man?" Ferris heads for the city in a Ferrari. I'll try to get downtown on the bus. Twenty phone calls and $2.50 later I'm on a bus bound for Downtown. Who knew how hard it is to get to no place in particular. When you call for a bus route you can't exactly say, "I wanna go where the bad kids hang out when they skip school." Duh. So I'm on my way to the County Art Museum. Hey, it's downtown. No I'm not actually going to go inside. Way too nerdy for today. The bus is interesting. Of course anyone with money, a license or a shred of self-respect doesn't go near the bus. That leaves me, the emotionally challenged woman with the purple wig, the big man who keeps talking to himself, the twenty-something unshaven guy that keeps staring at me, the Latina woman with three kids. As we get further along some relative normals do get on with us, mostly commuter-type businessmen and women. By the way there all nervously looking at one- another I can only assume they've lost their licenses for DWIs. I just pretend to look out the window. A few more people trickle on at every stop and I realize I've made the novice's error of taking a window seat. This leaves the aisle seat next to me open. Everyone else has taken the aisle seats and stuck their coats on the window seat to avoid having some one sit next to them. Oh, geeze, oh geeze not the old couple. No, they sit together in the back. Twenty-something is still staring. I wonder if I can just casually move over. Too late, another commuter-businessman guy sits next to me. He's not very old. I sort of sideways glance at him, just for a moment. He's wearing some sort of spicy cologne. Nice, not like Old Spice or anything, it smells expensive and his suit looks expensive too, with the Regis tone on tone tie and shirt. So he wants to be a millionaire, riding the bus?! I smile at my own joke and out of the corner of his eye he sees me smile and turns and smiles back. "Hi, sorry about invading your space", he says. Now I actually have to look at him, in the eyes, and make a clever response. He has dark hair and eyes and very white teeth. "That's alright," is my witty reply. My eye's drop immediately to my lap but I broaden my smile, hopefully to make up for my lack of intelligence and reddening face. "On your way to work too?" He continues. It's kinda funny, so I look up. But I don't actually look up, I just stare into his lap, which is exactly where I don't want to look, so I do look up at his face but I'm turning red again. Damn, why am I so weird? Now what the heck do I say? Is he looking funny at me because I was looking at his crotch? "No, I'm off school today so I'm going to the Museum." Argh, how dumb can I get! "I'm meeting some friends there, actually, we're not going in." I'm looking at his crotch again. "Nice briefcase." I point to the leather bag between his legs. Nice recovery, oh, yes! "Really?" his bemused reply. Now what: really to the nice brief case, really to the Museum, really meeting friends. "Well-you-know." is my nice non-committal response. I'm getting more than a little tense and he's been sitting next to me for maybe 30 seconds. Pause. The bus lurches to a halt again then starts up. "Actually I work at the museum." He says. "Really?" my bemused reply (a bit sarcastic I know but hey!) "Yes, really." Did he over-emphasize the word really? "If you and your friends have some time you should see the exhibit of the Art of Ancient Cultures, I know it sounds dull but I put it together and its really quite good, if I say so myself. You won't be able to see this group of works together ever. They come from 20 different countries." There was a little spark in his eyes and he turned his body toward me and waved with his free hand. I must have been looking blankly because he looked me up and down and then he let out his breath. The spark just went out and he scrunched his forehead just a little and said, "Well, it's free." He shrugged. Just a stupid kid, is that what he's thinking? He got me. " I saw the Pre-Raphaelite exhibit last year and the Impressionists the year before. In fact I've seen nearly all the traveling exhibits in the last few years, since I've been old enough to appreciate them." I said a bit too hotly. "Really?" he said again. But he smiled. " Who's your favorite Pre-Raphaelite artist?" "Millais. Because of the dead bodies and all." I replied. His eyes went up a millimeter when I said that. I don't know if he was impressed or not. "It's some doing to get "Ophelia" from the Tate in London. Paintings like that rarely leave the country." He said. "Wow, you arranged that?" I said, truthfully interested. "Yep, and the new exhibit is even better." he replied. The bus continued to start and stop. "We should give up our seats to these lovely ladies." The bus was now full and two nice looking young women were standing in the aisle next to our seat. I started to turn red again but it was obvious he wasn't correcting my manners but making time with the ladies, as he looked up at them not me. They both giggled a bit too transparently. I'm sure they thought he was handsome. I felt better looking just standing by him. As we got up the bus lurched and I fell into him clumsily. He was nice enough not to say anything and we gave the ladies our seats. Smart, successful, good looking, works for an Art Museum and a nice guy. Not just for giving up his seat to the ladies, but he moved to let me have the pole as I would have had to stand on my toes to reach the hand rail along the ceiling. I was sort of thinking about how it would be cool to grow up to be someone like him. "This is our stop", he reminded me and as we got outside he continued, "If you have time you should come inside, although there's no dead bodies. You could ask for me, I'm Dale Everett." "Yeah, maybe I'll have a few minutes, my name is Danny, uh, Daniel." He smiled when I did and he turned and walked up the stairs toward the entrance. He didn't look back. I think it was an invitation he would later come to regret. As for me I had an adventure to plan. The wind picked up a bit; I shivered a little and pulled my coat closer. A quick glance up and down the street showed storefronts rolled down and the only people were going into offices to go to work. My watch said 8:20. Okay, well nothings open yet. So what am I going to do for an hour and a half? Even the museum was closed till 10:00. And now I have to pee. Bad. I can't help it that my bladder is the size of a pea. (Get it pee, pea?) There's probably a coffee shop around here somewhere. I don't even know which direction to go. It's amazing how a little stress makes everything more urgent. Thank God at the top of the wide staircase Mr. Everett is buying a cup of coffee from the little rolling cart. He's standing there with another man and women that are well dressed and blowing on their drinks and talking while he pays for his cup. I run up the stairs without tripping or stumbling and stop next to them. The man and women turn and look at me with annoyance. I swallow hard. "Excuse me, Mr. Everett? Could I talk to you for a second?" He looks up and I give him my best-dimpled smile. The other two look from him to me and back. He shrugs at his friends and says with a smile, "Sure, what's up?" My hands are pressing down so hard into the pockets of my jacket that it's making my shoulders sag. I step around to his other side and try to talk quietly. "Uh, could you get me inside so I can use the restroom? I know the museum's not open yet, but nothing else is either and I really gotta go." I crossed my legs and bounced just a bit to express the urgency I'm feeling. "Hey, no problemo." He turned to his friends and said, "I'll see you at the meeting." He glanced at me sideways and sort of rolled his eyes and motioned with his head. I was feeling a little like the pesky kid brother. We walked up to the smaller set of double doors to the left of the gigantic bronze ones that would open at 10:00 o'clock. The door marked employees was locked but he used a key card to open it. He pushed me through ahead of him and I nearly bumped into a burly uniformed guard. He scowled, but before he could say anything Mr. Everett put his arm on my shoulder and said, "Good Morning Charles. He's with me." The guard nodded crisply but the expression on his face didn't change a bit. Mr. Everett's arm on my shoulder felt nice and I smelled his cologne again. He steered me down a long hall and around a corner to an employee bathroom and opened the door for me. He gave me a little shove but didn't follow me inside. The bathroom wasn't nearly as fancy as the public ones are. Overalls were hanging on hooks and a row of lockers took up one wall. I used the urinal but I could see newspapers and magazines stacked on the floor of the stalls. I almost didn't think I could get my zipper down in time but then I just stood there forever before I could get going. Maybe it was because I knew that Mr. Everett was waiting outside. I washed my hands quick and dried them on my pants on the way out. The boxers were giving me a wedgie and I yanked on my jeans. It reminded me why I like my bun huggers. "Since you're inside, would you like to look around?" He didn't wait for my answer but walked down the hallway. I hurried to catch up. "With the museum still closed you have the place almost to yourself." He went on. He stopped at a rack of badges and selected one that said "Benefactor". "They allow big donors to tour the museum before the public. I can't come with you, I have meeting till opening." He took my coat and clipped the badge on my shirt. I still hadn't answered but he turned and walked through a doorway and turned. Again I hurried to catch him. He ignored a sign that said: Coat check closed, swung his legs over a waist high counter and hung my coat on a rack. It was the coat checkroom. "Come over." He said. I hoisted myself over and was amazed to see all the stuff in that little room. It looked like a department store. Clothes, shoes, bags, umbrellas, baby strollers, wheelchairs, out of the sight of the window was even a bra and panties artfully hung on a marble bust of someone I didn't recognize. He clipped a number to the hanger and gave me a slip of paper. "Do you think you can look wealthy?" He smiled and pointed to the badge. "When you're done if the coat check girl is here give her your number. If not just jump over and get it yourself. I've got to go." He slid back over the counter and I followed. We walked out into the grand lobby of the main entrance. "My exhibit is on the second floor." He looked me up and down for a moment again. I thought he was going to say something else, but he didn't. "Wow, thanks" was all I could say. He nodded, spun on his heels and walked briskly to another door across the cavernous room. He used his key card again and with a click he was gone. Well, what the heck. It was still too early to do anything else and anyway I like the museum. And it's true I've seen all the exhibits since I was about eight years old; my mom and I come here a lot. Another guard was looking at me from across the room. I pointed to my badge and smile. He just rolled his eyes. I decided not to push my luck and headed for the arching marble staircase. Actually this is kinda cool. There really isn't anyone here but me. I turn right at the top of the stairs and enter the first room. Actually, I'll skip a bit. Most of the stuff was nice. In fact it was quite a collection. But there was only one piece that I spent any time looking at. Do you believe in love at first sight? Have you ever seen something so beautiful it hurts, in your stomach? I mean I was aching, this was a feeling that I never had before. As I looked I actually thought I was sick. As I said, I was alone, thank God, because it was embarrassing to say the least. This was not something I wanted to be caught looking at and I couldn't help but stare. The centerpiece of the collection was a sculpture, a boy, around my age, carved from a single piece of white marble. He was on his knees with his feet tucked together but sitting up so you could see he was completely nude. Carvings by great masters like Michelangelo seem to have life in them, as if, if you looked closely enough, you could see them breathing. As I looked my heart beat so hard I was afraid people in the next room could hear it. He wasn't as skinny as I am. His muscles were smooth and developed, across his back, his shoulder and thighs. His stomach was an oval under his ribcage and he had an innie bellybutton. His arms were raised out and above his head like he was reaching toward someone or something. There was a smile on his face. He had curly hair and thick eyebrows and deep-set eyes. Of course you know what I couldn't take my eyes off of. I did say he was naked? He looked so vulnerable, but happy, yet his eyes were sad. It was amazing. I kept walking from the front to the back and to the front again. The more I looked the more my stomach hurt. Occasionally I would glance around to make sure no one was looking at me looking. In the locker room at school, the only place I've every seen a naked boy besides myself, I could never actually look at the guys when they were undressed. No one did. Just the occasional glance out of the corner of your eye. I was always afraid someone would see me looking so mostly I kept my head down and changed quick. Now I stared, I got as close as the velvet ropes would let me and I leered. I couldn't get my eyes wide enough. He was so incredibly . well, beautiful. Minutes passed I worried that there were video cameras recording everything so I left the room. What the hell was wrong with me? My mouth was dry so I went to find a drinking fountain. I let the water run across my face, into my eyes and hair. I wiped my face on my polo shirt and made a mess. My nose was running. I walked some more and pretended to look at the other works of art but it must have been obvious because I couldn't help but go back and stare again. I lost track of time because suddenly the Museum was open. People started coming in to my room. I read the description card twenty times - walking out, walking back, read the card, don't stare at the statue, walking out. Interestingly enough the card said very little. This was a new permanent acquisition of the museum. It had no name, had not been dated or attributed to an artist or school. They didn't even know if it was real or a copy of another original. It was a very slow morning but I was afraid the security guards were staring at me staring. Geeze. I went downstairs to the gift shop. I hoped they had a postcard of him. I wandered methodically through the tiny gift shop making the elderly lady working there crazy. She kept looking up at the sign that read: Children on school tours are not allowed in the bookstore. Then she would look at my shirt and see the badge: Benefactor. She wanted to say something. She'd look at the sign and then at the badge. My presence was really bugging her. I couldn't ask this old biddy for help so I kept looking. Finally she could stand it no more and said, "Can I help you young man?" I ignored her. I was the only one in the store. She came out from around the small glass counter her face in a grim little smile. "Young man, can I help you." She clearly wanted to finish with, "Out the door." She was old and her make-up was really thick. She smelled like old perfume and baby powder. Her badge said, Angus Senior-volunteer. She stuck her face right in mine. It was really irritating her that my badge trumped hers. I tried to look wealthy. "Do you have any information on the new exhibit?" I asked in what I hoped was a snotty tone. Her smile became even more forced. "Why yes." She said. She didn't move. "The catalogue for the exhibit is available in art quality paperback, $49.95. Plus tax." I guess my face fell a little because her smile became more genuine. I took a step back. "Of course "benefactors" get a 10% discount, you know." Her smile turned into a sneer, her voice dripping with sarcasm. I tried to clear my throat but all I got was a squeak. "May I see it?" I asked politely. Her response: "Just where did you get that badge, young man?" . "I .it's." I began to stutter. Unbelievably she snapped her claw out and snatched it from my shirt. "Hey, I.that's." I was getting panicky. "I've a mind to call the security guard." She barked. As she turned to do it, I ran. What the hell was wrong with old people anyway? My stomach was killing me; my hands were shaking. And I didn't even do anything! I slowed to a fast walk across the lobby. I could go right out the doors now. A security guard was looking at me funny. Oh, man. I didn't know what to do. Amazingly, like a knight in shining armor, Mr. Everett appeared. "Hey Danny-Daniel, you still here?" He said. I could've hugged him. "Mr. Everett! An old lady took my badge, she thought I stole it, she's going to call the security guard!" I blurted with a sob. I don't really know why I was so upset. I hoped I wouldn't start crying. "What? Oh, don't worry about it. Some of these ladies even give me a hard time. They have no lives." He laughed. "Did you get up stairs? Pretty cool huh? Hey are you okay?" He looked concerned. The room was suddenly spinning and I thought I was going to faint. I guess I wobbled a bit because he put his hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Wow your neck is cold. Do you want to sit down?" I just nodded. He led me to a padded bench and we both sat. "Are you cold? Do you want your coat? I'll get your coat." He disappeared around the corner to the coat check. When he returned a moment later and handed me my jacket he said, "Have you eaten lunch? I'll bet your blood sugar is low." He said after a while. "People lose track of time here. It happens all the time." "Do you want to go to the cafeteria, my treat?" He took my smile for a "yes" and steered me toward the elevator. It was just one floor down but I guess he didn't trust me on the stairs. It was quiet elegant for a cafeteria. My mom never let us eat here, too expensive. It was mostly empty. "Good Morning Mr. Everett." Said the cute girl behind the counter. She smiled as he answered her. I looked at the clock on the wall. It wasn't even noon yet. "Well, what'll you have, Danny-Daniel?" Everything on the menu seemed really expensive. He saw me puzzling and correctly guessed my dilemma. "Don't worry about the prices I can expense a lunch with a benefactor." He flashed a smile at the girl behind the counter again, "Lois can I have a chicken sandwich and a bowl of soup?" "Sure thing Mr. Everett." She replied. "Me too." I said. "And it's Danny, I just thought, you know, Daniel sounded older." We got sodas and sat down away from the other diners. The food was really good and I was very hungry. My stomach was feeling better when he said again, "So did you get upstairs to see the exhibit?" "Yep, it was amazing." I said, "I especially liked one statue in particular." Ow, geeze, why did I say that? Now my stomach was hurting again. "Humm, let me guess." He smiled and finished chewing. " The Pre-Columbian Earth goddess carving with the huge belly and gigantic boobs?" His smile was devilish. I thought soda was going to come out of my nose. "You're way off!" I laughed. "Really? In that case, it could only be my boy." He said in a funny offhanded manner. The way he said "my Boy" took me by surprise. He could only have been talking about one statue. I felt myself blush and nodded my head. "Of course you have excellent taste. I acquired it for the museum. There's an interesting story behind the acquisition too." He continued. "The card didn't say much of anything about it." I said. " Well I can give you the inside scoop, but not here." He looked around conspiratorially, "Finish eating and we'll go upstairs." Very mysterious and I was anxious to look again anyway. We quickly finished in silence and found our way upstairs. There were more people walking around now although the room with the boy statue was empty except for a guard standing in one corner. He nodded to Mr. Everett as we walked in. The way Mr. Everett stared at the statue made me realize I wasn't the only one that thought the boy was beautiful. "I'm quite sure that when all the research is completed this will be the most important acquisition in the history of the Museum." He started. "Naturally I'm a bit biased since it was my find, but still. You know, I never tire of looking at it. We've done an adequate job of lighting it but I've seen it in just moonlight. When you see him that way you truly think he's just a boy, standing extraordinarily still. I swear I could see him breathing, his heart beating. Do you know when we first got him some of the old biddies wanted to put clothes on him. Can you imagine? Of course I asked if they wanted him to wear a baseball cap on backwards? That shut them up in a hurry." "Maybe they're afraid he'll catch cold?" I said. Mr. Everett looked at me and laughed. I just followed him as he walked round and round the statue. Because he was staring I could stare too and I did. I noticed some more little details like the two little indentions on the top of his butt. Like little dimples. I wondered if they had a name? Butt dimples - no that seems too ordinary a name; they were quite extraordinary. His throat was very smooth and long, extended because he was looking up. I wondered if he was taller than me. Sitting on the pedestal as he was we could almost look eye to eye, if I stood on my tiptoes. My stomach had that fluttery feeling again. He went on, "It was quite lucky break how we got him. I was in Northern Italy, really just by chance, and I got wind of an interesting discovery. Some young aristocrat was doing some remodeling in a rundown castle his family owned. He was actually turning it into a Bed and Breakfast to make some money. Anyway the workman broke open a wall and exposed an underground turret that had been sealed off about 500 years ago. It was a huge room, set up as an alchemist's workshop apparently with the alchemist still inside, well, what was left of him. The room was perfectly preserved, an incredible find. If you can imagine finding Di Vinci's workroom you have an idea what was in there: jars and beakers of chemicals and exotic plants, stuffed animals, mineral formations, models of strange machines, thousands of pages of notes on vellum and parchment, and Him." He pointed at the statue. "Why didn't you read about such an incredible discovery in the newspaper? Is Nova doing a special on it? Are historians from across the world converging on this amazing place? No way. The "Count" wanted cash, fast. And he knew that the Italian government would confiscate the entire castle if he let it be known what he had found. So he put the word out through the underground antiquities market that 'everything must go'. Since I was near by, I was one of the first on the scene. When I saw the boy I knew I had to have him. Striking a deal was the easy part. Getting him out of the country was another thing, I'll tell you. Some of the other collectors thought it was all a fake, the room, the junk, the statue. There were no other works of art, no signs of where or how the statue had been carved. You know, like marble chips and dust, stone working tools, sketches or mock-ups of the boy. It was puzzling, but hey, just look at him. Even if he's not 500 years old he's obviously the work of a master." He took me by surprise again when he said, "Do you want to touch him?" My jeans were just tight enough that I wondered if Mr. Everett could see the stiffy I had thrown. "Uh, is it okay?" I managed to say. "No, but this is my exhibit and I am in charge." He replied. He unhooked the velvet rope and motioned for me to step closer. "Go ahead while no one is looking." The guard in the corner seemed unconcerned. I hesitated, then stepped forward wiping my hands on my jeans. I put my right hand on the boy's shoulder. It was cool and velvety smooth. I stepped a bit closer and I ran my hand down his back. I could feel his ribs. I stopped just above his hips and looked at Mr. Everett. He had a wistful expression on his face, a sort of half-smile. I could see a rather prominent bulge in his slacks. Was Mr. Everett getting a stiffy? Mine was painful in my pants and I used my free hand to adjust things around. I checked the guard. The statue was between him and me so he couldn't see exactly what I was doing. I returned my focus to the statue. "Does he have a name?" I asked quietly. My hand was resting lightly in the small of his back. Even though the marble was cool my hand was starting to get sweaty. The sleeve of my field jacket threatened to touch the statue so I pulled it back. "Well Daniel is already taken." He laughed. A wicked feeling came over me and I allowed my hand to go further, past the little dimples, onto his butt. It was . incredible. I was stretching my fingers trying to nonchalantly slide them right along the crack. As I "rounded the horn" a sound made me jerk my hand away like it was red-hot. A second guard had walked into the room and was heading straight for us. The first guard also left his post and hurried toward us. Oh no I'm gonna be arrested for molesting a statue. I could never show my face at school again, I thought. My chest hurt so bad I almost doubled completely over but my boner was pointing straight up and stabbed me in the stomach. I stood up fast. The guards ignored me completely and spoke to Mr. Everett. He was all business now. "Mr. Everett, we have a problem with one of the cases in room B." Said the guard. Mr. Everett was so cool. He handed me the end of the velvet rope, without even looking and said to the guards, "Come with me." They turned and left me standing inside the ropes. When they were gone I had the room and the boy to myself. I knew if I were caught like this, without Mr. Everett standing right next to me, I would be in big trouble. I clicked the rope back into it's shiny ring but I was still inside the cordoned off area around the base of the statue. Between my hard-on and the wedgie my underwear was giving me I could hardly walk upright. While no one was around and without taking my eyes off the statue, I took a moment to ram my hands into my jeans and re-arrange everything. I had been hard for a while and when my fingers touched my dick it was like being hit by a bolt of electricity, almost as pleasurable as finally getting the seam of my boxers out of my butt. I ran my hands back around the front one more time. Just pulling my hands across my boner again threatened to make me pop right there. There was sticky goo already soaking into my shorts. Overcome with wicked feelings I realized this was probably my last chance to touch this boy ever. No way I was going to touch his dick. Not yet. Even in a room all by myself. I did notice he had a tiny patch of hair right around the top of his shaft, geeze, everyone but me. Then without thinking too much did something really weird. I walked around the front of the statue, so we were standing face to face. I went just slightly up on my toes, rocked forward and rubbed my lips across his. His cool lips just brushed my warm ones. I pressed harder. Just for a moment. I felt that bolt of electricity again, go all the away down to my toes. Stretching up as I did made my boner rub again across the inside of my pants. More electricity. I knew that feeling. Now that it was building it wasn't going to stop. A little voice inside my head wondered how I was going to explain the mess in my underwear to my mom. I pushed higher on my toes stretching all the way. Our noses collided. I woke up on a leather couch in a tiny office packed with junk. How did I get here? I wondered. I shivered a bit; my jacket was gone. Where am I? I sat up to look around and my head throbbed sickly. Ow, geeze. The couch was almost touching a cluttered desk. A nameplate was tipped over so I leaned forward and picked it up. Dale Everett it said. Of course I'm in the museum. My arm bumped a pile of books and papers and they went down with a crash. I dropped to my knees to pick them up and succeeded in bumping my already sore head on the front of the desk. "Ow. Geeze" I moaned again. "This kids a smart one", a voice said. I looked to the right and a guard was standing inside the door. Behind him Mr. Everett was gesticulating wildly to a police officer. "Mr. Everett, he's awake." He was pulled out of the doorway. "My God, are you all right?" He put his hands on my shoulders and brought me back to sitting on the couch. "Should we call the paramedics? Bill call the paramedics!" Mr. Everett barked. "No, no I'm okay." I said. I was trying to remember what happened. I rubbed the back, then the front of my head. " I just bumped my head." I said. The back had a pretty big knot but the front hadn't started to swell yet. Oh geeze, I remembered, I kissed the statue. "What happened?" Mr. Everett said. He moved to sit down next to me but had to push a pile of papers onto the floor before he could. He moved my hand away and felt where I was feeling. "Whoa, I'll bet that smarts, Bill get a bag of ice will you?" He looked into my eyes and said again, "What happened?" As Bill turned to leave I saw the policeman come in. He didn't look too happy. "Uh, I uh ." I stammered rubbing my head. "Maybe we should call the kids parents," The officer said. "No you can't call my mom!" I blurted. "She's at work." I said to the officer. "I'm ditching school," I said as quietly as I could to Mr. Everett. "I'll get in trouble." "You're already in serious trouble young man." The officer said. Mr. Everett turned to the officer and said, "You can't believe Danny had anything to do with it." He put a protective arm around my shoulder. I was really confused. And the look on my face must have shown it. "A few minutes a ago a valuable work of art was stolen from the museum. We found you unconscious at the foot of the pedestal tangled in the crowd control ropes." The officer told me. Mr. Everett said peevishly, "I already explained, I allowed him to cross the ropes to touch the statue. It weighs 350 pounds. Do you think he put it in his pocket like a candy bar? Why aren't you out looking for the thieves? If they got it out of the building they would have had to put it in a truck. Good god man do you realize they're getting away!" He was gesticulating wildly again. He hit me in the side of the head with his arm. The officer said calmly, "Men are searching the building. All patrol cars in the area have been notified. My job is to take statements from witnesses. Since there was only one, and this kid is it, I'm taking a statement. Perhaps you would allow us to use your office." He motioned for Mr. Everett to leave. He didn't move to get up but I put my hand on his leg anyway. "What was stolen?" I asked stupidly. I knew the answer. The boy. "When Mr. Everett and the guards left the room you where standing in, what did you do?" The cop questioned. I couldn't tell him what I did. I couldn't tell him I kissed the statue, a boy statue, on the lips. " I uh, I really, uh. I really have to go to the bathroom." I said, "Bad." I looked at Mr. Everett. "There's one down the hall. I'll take him. Can you walk?" Mr. Everett said to the officer then to me. The officer's radio squawked and as he grabbed for it he gestured us out. I noticed he stepped out of the office and watched us as we walked down the corridor to the employee restroom. Mr. Everett's arm was firmly around my shoulder. I was fine to walk but I didn't shrug it off. He pushed open the door and pulled me inside. At the same time we both said, "What happened?" He started, "My statue, it's gone. Just vanished. I had only left the room; I heard a clunk and came back in. I think the clunk was you hitting the ground. The thieves must have hit you from behind, but I have no idea how they moved that statue out of the room so quickly." "Mr. Everett, I kissed him. The statue." I said. My face was red hot. Her waved his hand dismissively, "So have I, a hundred times, all over. Did you see anyone enter the room?" All over? What does that mean I wondered? "I wasn't kidding I really have to go." I said pointing to the urinal. "So, go." He replied. I didn't think I could go with him watching so I went into a stall and shut the door. I had to pull my pants and underwear completely down and peel my dick off my leg. It had been glued down by my "accident". What a mess. I'd have to clean up later. I hoped Mr. Everett wasn't watching through the crack in the door. I felt like a three year old with my pants down to my knees. I heard someone else enter the bathroom. "Here's ice." Someone (Bill?) said. "Give it to me and find my statue." Mr. Everett said. I finished and flushed. It sounded loud in the quiet restroom. Mr. Everett was standing outside the door when I opened it. He went to hand me the ice and I said, "I have to wash my hands." For a moment he looked perturbed. Then he laughed, "Your mom's trained you well." As I washed my hands I said, "I don't know what happened. I was just standing there, then I woke up in your office." I looked at his reaction in the mirror. He just nodded thoughtfully. When my hands were dry he handed me the bag of ice. "Thanks, Mr. Everett." I said. "I hope it doesn't hurt to much." He replied. "No that's not what I meant." I pointed to the ice. "Thanks for believing me and sticking up for me in front of that police officer." He put his arm back around me. "No problemo." He said. "By the way you can call me Dale." "Do you think they'll call my mom?" I asked. "The police are strange. They may ask you a million questions over and over but once they realize you didn't see anything I think they'll let you be. After all you haven't done anything. Kissing a statue is hardly against the law." He smiled when he said that but I still turned red. "When they find the statue, I wonder if they can get a lip print off of him?" He smiled harder. "Hey, you said you kissed it hundreds of times." I started to say. "Of course, but I'm always careful to wipe off the prints!" He laughed out loud at this and moved toward the door. "Seriously, I think I can get you out of here without having to be grilled by the cops. I can call my driver and have him take you home in my car. Just hold your head and make moaning sounds." "Your driver? You came to work on the bus." I questioned. "I just gave Tony the morning off. Start moaning." He replied. As we left the bathroom I held the ice to my head and moaned. As we returned to Mr. Everett's, Dale's office, the police officer was still talking into his radio. We stepped in and Dale picked up his phone. "Tony, I need your help. How quick can you get to the museum? I need you to take a boy home. No, to his house." Dale sort of turned away as he said that last sentence. " It's a long story and I have a feeling I won't be coming home tonight. The museum has been robbed." The officer stepped back into the office. "I can't explain now, I'll have the boy, Danny, in front of the museum in 20 minutes." He hung up and turned to me. "Danny, what's your address and phone number?" As I said it I noticed that the officer took it down as well. " He turned to the officer. "I'm worried about the boy." I remembered to moan a bit, I thought it sounded a little staged. Dale went on imperturbable, "I've arranged for a car to take him home." "You didn't see who hit you?" The officer said. I shook my head then moaned a bit louder. Surprisingly, the officer turned and walked out. As his footsteps echoed down the hallway Dale flashed a smile. "I'll help you to the lobby. By-the-way there won't be any academy award for that performance." I moaned one last time as he grabbed my shoulder and dragged me out the door. There was little police activity on this floor (that I could see). The guards were still in position at the front doors and they were still open. There were a lot of people in the lobby now. I was surprised. On T.V. they lock everything up and hold everyone for questioning. I guess Dale saw the look on my face. "It's a big statue, it won't walk out the front door. We don't want to alarm anyone anyway." He steered me to a bench along the wall. "Sit here. I'll have the guard tell you when the car arrives. Maybe we'll get a chance to talk again when this is over. I want to help search the building. I don't believe the thieves could have gotten it outside." He walked across to the guard and gestured back at me. The guard nodded and looked at me. Dale stalked off in search of his quarry. I just sat with the ice on my head. I big group of school kids with nametags on their shirts walked by. The ice was making me shiver and I realized again that I didn't have my jacket. Maybe the thieves stole it as well! Yea right a priceless statue and my old army coat. I thought back to Dale's office. I know I didn't see it in there. Did I leave it in the lunchroom? No I didn't take it off to eat. And I remember, when I was touching the statue, the sleeve almost touched him and I had to pull it back. So I had it on after lunch. The only other place I could think of was the coat checkroom. I checked my pocket and my claim check was still there. Maybe someone put it back? I walked over to "my" guard and held out my claim number. "My jacket is in the coat check room." I said. He pointed to the corridor like I didn't know where it was. Geeze, I hate that. I was telling him where I was going, not asking for directions! "Your ride should be here in a few minutes, don't wander off." Thanks Bill. The coat check was still unoccupied so I hopped over the counter. My jacket wasn't hanging up. I maneuvered around the piles of junk checking cubbies and baskets. I finally founded it buried in a pile of other clothes in one corner. It least it looked like mine. I tried to tug it free but it wasn't coming loose. I grabbed a handful of material and really pulled. Momentarily, I realized why it was so heavy. There was a person in it! My first thought was -- the thief. I doubled up my fist, but as I pulled the jacket free I saw that it was a boy, a naked boy. Well, naked except for my jacket. He struggled for a moment with his back to me, but turned and when our eyes met the look of fear fell away from his face and he grabbed me. I didn't have a moment to even be startled when he through his arms around me and kissed me, right on the lips. I was kinda sputtering around his lips and trying to pull away when a wave of pleasure sort of rolled over me. His hands were around my neck, I let him draw me closer and I gave in to the kiss. I could feel the warmth of his body as he pressed his hips into me, his chest into my chest. He smelled so strong of sweet grass and summer I did something I never thought I'd do in a million years. I kissed him back. And, as I did, I ran my hands under the jacket and around his waist. The curve of his back was so warm and I moved my hands further along his back then down, down along his round smooth butt. My mouth opened on autopilot and he stuck his tongue right in. I'd never French kissed anyone before, let alone a boy. It tasted like, like (don't laugh) electrified Brie. I could feel myself shaking. He was grinding his hips into my pants and my dick was hard but twisted in my pants so it stuck out sideways. I was going to have to do something about that but I didn't want to take my hands off him. I was just running my hands inward along his velvet cheeks, approaching the crack like Luke Skywalker in his X-wing, when I blinked. I blinked again. Wow, our eyelashes were tangled together. I could feel him blinking too! We pulled apart and it broke the spell. He must have seen the look on my face, shock, surprise, lust, and of course this little voice saying, "am I gay?" He let out a little giggle. I got real embarrassed which is why I looked down suddenly. Oh my god, his dick was so hard and beautiful, that same little voice in the back of my head said, "His is bigger than yours". Of course he was uncircumcised, I'm cut and about an inch longer than my hand. He had the tiniest band of soft dark hair just over his shaft. I started to reach forward; I had to touch it. Time seemed to slow. I could feel myself start shaking again. My stomach was twitching. His dick gave a little bounce and a shiny drop appeared at the tip. My hand was halfway there as another bounce causes that tiny drip to spill over the rim of his foreskin and run very slowly down. I brought my finger right to the hole. The liquid seemed unbelievably hot. The exhale of a breath sounded like thunder. I couldn't tell if it was from him or me. I looked up as he laughed again. What the hell was he laughing at? His smile was mischievous and his dimples danced. He was pointing to my pants my dick straining sideways in my jeans a stain of my own spreading across the fabric. I couldn't help but smile a little too. No slow motion here, he grabbed a hold of my hard on right through my pants. As a little woof of air escaped my lungs he reached his other hand into my jeans and pulled it up straight. His hand wrapped all the way round, and slid down to my balls and back up as he pulled me close again. I followed his lead and grabbed his cock. As I pulled my hand down his foreskin retracted and I saw the darkened head slide out. The analytical part of my brain registered how cool that was. I milked more clear liquid free. He spoke. I didn't understand a word he said, but it was still beautiful. I looked into his eyes for some hint of what he was saying and I saw him look down. He was pointing to the button on my pants. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he wanted and I reluctantly released my hold on him and tried to get my jeans down. I was shaking so hard, my stomach and legs especially; I didn't think I could do it. He said something else and slid his hands around my waist underneath my shirt. I wondered if he thought I was going to fall over. His soft hands steadied me and I managed to get my pants free and pulled down to my knees. He pulled me forward until our cocks were touching. That feeling of building electricity was so strong and I felt my back arching and my legs collapsing. I grabbed him around the waist just to keep my balance and the feeling of our slippery cocks rubbing together. He pressed his lips to mine again and the wave crested over me. I jerked as my cock thrust again and again, uncontrollably. My hands felt his ass tighten and he thrust forward too. Our eyelashes danced. As we came I felt his first shot hit my chin or was it mine. I don't usually come much liquid but I knew I was spraying all over his chest. As the wave subsided we were both a bit off balance and we threatened to topple over. With my pants around my knees I had nowhere to go but down. With a supple grace I could only imagine he managed to keep us upright. I let my head drop to his shoulder. His hair smelled like sagebrush. It only took a moment for the analytical part of my brain to kick back in, "Hey, do you really want the whole museum to know you're a homo?" it said. The museum is on alert, swarming with cops and guards and I'm standing here with my pants down kissing a naked boy. I pulled back sharply and looked down: yes, my shirt was covered with cum. The boy had a slightly bemused look on his face. Neither of our hard ons showed any sign of disappearing. Uh oh, if my ride is here that means Bill the guard is already looking for me. I pulled up my pants and underwear in one fluid motion. As I looked around I was glad to see that we were far enough from the counter opening that passersby couldn't see us. I needed some time to think. "We need to get out of here." I said. His quizzical smile was so cute. I motioned putting on clothes. He just shrugged. Of course he had no clothes, that's why he's wearing my jacket. I started looking around the piles of coats and umbrellas. After a moment or two of digging (that seemed like an hour) I found an old pair of sweat pants, which I motioned for him to put on. I gulped as I saw his legs disappear. I found several brand new matching tee shirts that had some kind of Internet company logo on them. With the first one I started to wipe his chest and I couldn't help my self, I took my finger and scooped up the biggest drip of cum. This kid couldn't be much older than me but his chest was so defined. How did he get his muscles? I stuck my finger in my mouth. My cum is clear and doesn't have much taste but his, wow, this was a favor I could get used to. I wondered if I grossed him out so I looked up. He grabbed my head, I thought he was going to kiss me but he licked a shot off my chin. When he leaned back he smiled that smile again and so help me his eyes twinkled. My dick had gone stiff in my pants again and I giggled it around. Oh man, we have to get dressed! He took off the jacket as I wiped away most of the liquid off his chest and stomach and pulled a fresh shirt over his head. My shirt smelled like a wet puppy and looked like the floor of an X-rated movie house. I pulled it off and replaced it with another defunct .com shirt. He put my jacket back on, but I didn't mind. I found an old brown cardigan and had just pulled it on as Bill stuck his head into the room. "Hey kid, your rides here." He stared at us and I thought he was going to say something. I blurted quickly, "Thanks. Uh, this is my friend. He's going to wear my jacket." What? Oh that was brilliant cover there Danny. Hey you know it's hard to be witty under this kind of pressure. But either it worked or Bill didn't care because he turned and over his shoulder he said, "The car is out in front, get moving." I looked down and realized that my new friend still didn't have any shoes. I found a pair of well-worn sneakers and tied his feet into them. (Who loses their sneakers at a museum?) I pulled him to the counter and prepared to hop over when he stopped and shook his head. "Relax, be cool, you're with me." I said as confident as I could. He shook his head again. I absently rubbed the bump on the back of my head the pain brought the events of the day back into focus. Exactly what had happened and who was this kid? He saw me rubbing and put his hand on my bump. He said something again but it was definitely not in English. There was a look of loving concern in his eyes. I had seen that look before. On the statue. I looked again at this boy dressed in a tee shirt, sweats and my jacket. As I stared he put out his arms as if to say "duh". Oh, man, I once read a story about an artist that brought a statue to life, Pygmalion. How did this happen and what was going to happen when people found out? When Mr. Everett found out, the museum, the police? I was thinking you break it you bought it, right? Oh Geeze. I think I started to black out again but he pulled me up by the shoulders and shook me. We had to leave. I saw an old baseball cap underneath the counter and stuck it on his head pulling it down almost to his eyes. It wasn't much of a disguise but it covered up all of his dark curly hair. I pulled on his sleeve again and jumped over. "Come with me!" I said. And I took a few steps away from the counter. He hopped over to walk next to me. I stopped short just before reaching the lobby and pointed to my chest. "Danny" I said. He pointed to his chest and said, "Angelo." So that was the statue's name. Angelo, an angel, if I could just get him home to my house. I took a deep breath and pressed into the lobby. The lobby was a mad house. There was over a hundred kids from several different school groups. It looked as if they were all leaving at once, perfect cover for us. As the first group started out we just joined right in. There were guards on either side of the door but they were looking for a statue, not a kid and Angelo wisely kept his head down and walked right out the front doors. At the top of the steps I looked for our ride. That wind was still blowing so no one was standing around. People bustled here and there. Parked in the loading zone were three yellow school busses and a long black limousine. Was that our car? I'd never ridden in a limo before. I looked back at Angelo and his eyes were very wide. He was looking at midday traffic. "Welcome to the 21st century!" I said and I pulled him down the stairs. As we got closer to the limo the driver got out. "Hey are you Danny?" He said. My god the guy was huge, like a football player huge, 6'6" maybe taller and very wide. He towered over the car. When I froze he smiled at me. "Hi, I'm Tony." He said as he walked around the car. When he reached out to shake my hand, Angelo grabbed my shoulder. His hand was so big could barely reach around it. His palms were calloused. He shook my hand firmly. I had the feeling he could easily break every bone in my hand, if he wanted. He was still smiling but he was also looking me over carefully. "Mr. Everett didn't tell me you had green eyes." He said. I guess I looked a little shocked because he said, "He told me what you look like so I'd recognize you, he said you were a good looking kid." "Uh, thanks." I said, but before I could say anything else. He said, "Who's your friend?" "This is Angelo, he's." I started. "Hey, Pisan." Tony said. Angelo stood in front of me and started talking rapidly in what I assumed to be Italian. He sounded very angry although I couldn't understand a word. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." Tony said. His outturned hands signaled his friendly intentions. "What's he saying"? I asked. "Actually he's kinda hard to understand. The kid's gotta weird accent." Tony said. "I think he's afraid I'm going to take you away." Tony spoke to Angelo in rapid Italian but it didn't take the scowl off his face. I turned to him. "It's okay Angelo, he's going to help us." I said. He hugged me and over my shoulder spoke to Tony again almost in a whisper. I could feel him heaving against me. "What did he say?" I asked. "I don't know what this kid is talking about, he said something like he thought he killed you and something about the resurrection. Do you know what he's talking about?" Tony said obviously perplexed. Angelo was still hugging me tightly. I patted his back "I bumped my head, but I'm fine and it wasn't his fault anyway. Can you tell him I'm okay and were going home?" I replied. "Sure thing" As Tony talked he stepped back and opened the door to the limo. I extracted my self from Angelo's death grip and pull him into the back of the car. It was really cool inside, soft leather seats, TV, bar, phone. The seats were huge but Angelo sat practically on top of me. I'm sure he didn't know what to expect and when we pulled into traffic he grabbed my arm tightly. It felt good to be held. I relaxed into the seat and leaned toward Angelo extracting my arm from his grip and putting it around his shoulder. He relaxed too, and put his head on my shoulder. I could see Tony looking in the rear view mirror but I didn't care. Considering it was only about 3 o'clock I was suddenly very tired. "So a statue was stolen from the museum." Tony started. "I don't know much about it." I started. As I did I heard a phone ring and Tony answered it. "Yeah, I got'um." Was all I heard as he put up the tinted privacy glass. I looked down and noticed that Angelo was asleep. He was so warm and soft snuggled up next to me. With the privacy glass up I felt comfortable nuzzling his face with mine. I took a deep breath of his hair. It was intoxicating.