Date: Thu, 17 Nov 2016 02:09:05 +0000
From: Douglas DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aiden  Chapter 13

Thank you for returning to Aiden's story. In this chapter Aiden learns that
life in a small town isn't necessarily idyllic.

Please donate to the Nifty Archive. Your help keeps the stories coming.

CHAPTER 13
REPUTATIONS

"Mom said the snacks on the second shelf are for us," Gordon babbled as
he opened the refrigerator. "She usually gets home a half hour after
me...well, us now," he grinned as he pulled out a plate of cookies wrapped
in clear plastic.

The boys could have waited at the school for Gordon's mother to drive
them home, but Flo Lansing liked giving her son some slack on his leash.
She felt that way he would slowly build a sense of independence, an
attitude encouraged by Gordon's father. "A half-hour home alone will help
develop responsibility in the boy," he said. Living in an environment where
he and Flo could instill responsibility while feeling confident in their son's
safety was one of the major things they liked about small-town living.

"Ohh, chocolate chip cookies," Aiden cooed. "My favorite for sure."

Gordon poured a glass of milk for each of them and the two nine-year-olds
participated in the age-old boy tradition of afterschool snacking and paying
little attention to the mess they were making. They were busily babbling
about school, soccer, Mariner baseball, Seahawk football and other boy
things when Flo Lansing pulled into the driveway.

After entering the kitchen, she gave Gordon a big hug. Aiden watched the
mother-son bonding with a wistful look that Flo didn't miss. She walked
over to his chair and gave him her winningest teacher smile.

"Stand up," she commanded gently. Aiden obeyed and quickly stood shyly
before her. "I am an equal-opportunity hugger. Anybody who's going to be
eating snacks at my house after school gets a hug." He stiffly accepted her
hug and sat back down. It was the first time he'd received the motherly hug
of a woman since his mother had died. He wasn't sure how to react to it,
but he knew that it felt good.

"I see you two had no problem attacking the cookies," she chided them.

"Thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Lansing. They were very good," Aiden told
her sincerely. "Chocolate chip are my favorites."

"My favorite are oatmeal raisin and peanut butter," Gordon said.

"All in one cookie?"

Gordon rolled his eyes and grinned at his new friend. "No, doofus, in two
different cookies."

"I don't like peanut butter," Aiden said, a fact that Flo took note of. "But
oatmeal raisin are good."

"Did you boys do any of your homework?" Flo asked in her efficient parent
voice.

"Mommm, how did you know we have homework?"

"I work as a substitute teacher, remember? I know how the teachers
operate."

"How could I forget?" Gordon asked sulkily.

"Well?"

"We have to write a one-page paper on our favorite game and why we like
it." Gordon looked at Aiden. "We'll start it now." He'd hoped that he and
Aiden would have time to play instead of doing homework. He could see
there would have to be some negotiating about when to start homework or
he and Aiden would never have any fun together when they got to his
house after school.

The boys quickly finished their papers, which Gordon's mother insisted on
checking. Gordon had picked soccer as his favorite game, while Aiden
picked blackjack.

He liked blackjack because the last two times his father dropped in Aiden
won money off of him, at least until his father got too drunk or stoned to
play. He didn't mention that part of it. He also didn't mention that in
blackjack the odds were in favor of the house, and Aiden was always the
dealer—but then, he didn't know that particular quirk of the game. His
paper simply said he liked it because he could have fun with his father.

Flo Lansing knew Aiden's story. She thought about suggesting he pick a
more appropriate game for a fourth grader, then decided to let it ride. Aiden
had left a little bit of his heart on the sheet of homework paper, and she had
to respect that.

"I'm nailed," Aiden told Gordon as they retreated to Gordon's bedroom.

Gordon grabbed Aiden's little spike through his shorts. "Yep, you are, and
so am I."

They dashed into Gordon's room and yanked down their shorts and undies,
displaying their hairless, two-inch cocklets for each other's edification. Both
boys took their tools between their thumb and forefinger and lightly
masturbated themselves as they stared at each other.

"Someday I'm gonna do it until something happens like Sammy and Nicky
and Jeffrey did on Monday," Aiden said.

"Not me. I still think it sounds dumb. Plus, it's all messy and gooey and
yucky."  He reached down and pulled up his pants as Aiden followed suit.
They went downstairs to play some video games before Larry stopped to
pick up his nephew. Phil was already home from work cooking up dinner for
the little family.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Peter Astor was thirteen. He was an eighth grader and the star athlete at
Mayfield Middle School. He was slated to be the starting quarterback on
the football team. The year before he'd led the varsity basketball team in
scoring as a seventh grader. Larry Sanders was very well aware of his
abilities as a pitcher in baseball. He felt that Peter could easily become one
of his top ballplayers ever by the time he was a junior, ranking with Marty
Carlson and Chandler Ecklund.

Peter's coaches loved him, his teachers loved him, and his parents felt he
could do no wrong. What none of them knew, or were willing to
acknowledge, was that Peter Astor was an asshole. Most of Peter's
teammates and peers were fooled as well, but there was more than one
young Mayfield teen who was somewhat wary of Peter.

The adults saw his leadership potential, but Peter wasn't interested in
leadership. While he displayed leadership traits on the practice and playing
fields, his interest was in power. He wasn't as interested in leading his
peers as he was in having power over those whom he considered to be
weaker and less talented than himself.

Many of the younger boys in town worshipped him, the way younger boys
had worshipped Marty and Chandler. While Marty didn't become worthy of
the adulation until he was into his sophomore year in high school, both he
and Chandler (as well as most of the Mayfield athletes) took their position
seriously. Peter looked at the younger boys wondering which ones he could
dominate.

Barry Bender and Roger Clauson were two of those boys. They were ten-
year-old athletes who thought they were studs of their elementary school.
Being that they were studs, good behavior and good grades were not
necessary elements in their lives. They got by with whatever kept them out
of serious trouble. Both boys lived within a block of Peter and knew of his
exploits as a middle school and travel team athlete. They reveled in his
attention and did whatever they could to curry his favor.

Barry was a bully, as was Roger as long as he had Barry backing him up.
Peter knew that the two fifth graders worshipped him and took total
advantage of that fact. He used them to do any dirty work he needed done
among the fourth, fifth, and sixth graders. Barry was a big kid and wasn't
afraid to push his weight around with some of the younger middle school
boys.

Peter's father worked at the lumber mill in Kentburg. He had been a three-
sport athlete when he attended Mayfield High. While he set certain
expectations for his son, Ross Astor also felt his son was one of the all-time
gifts to Mayfield athletics. He saw a professional career in whatever sport
his son picked, if only the "idiot coaches" at the middle school and high
school didn't stand in the way of his success.

"Everybody talks about that fucking Marty Carlson like his shit don't stink,"
Ross told his son. "He's a fucking queer and his father is a fucking drunk.
That's not how you succeed, son. Didn't help him, though, that he played
for that faggot baseball coach who thinks he's hot shit." He was referring, of
course, to Larry Sanders and his three State A baseball championships.

"He should be coaching in Seattle, where they got no morals at all and
don't care that some queer asshole is coaching and molesting their kids. If
I'd known this is what this town was coming to I would've bought a house in
Kentburg—and that dump is close to the bottom of the toilet when it comes
to morals."  Kentburg had a reputation for incestuous relationships which
was undeserved, unlike Clark Pass, which was twenty miles further east
where "Uncle Dads" were not uncommon.

Ross was in the basement with Peter a week before school was scheduled
to start. They were lifting weights together, something they'd started doing
together just after Peter had turned twelve. "All part of making the kid a
star," Ross told his friends at work or at the tavern. As they did their reps
Ross went into one of his gripe sessions about Mayfield coaching.

"That faggot baseball coach everybody thinks is so hot is gonna be getting
a kid. Can you believe that? Married to another fucking guy, busy packing
fudge together, and now they're gonna have a little sissy, faggot boy. It's
time somebody showed all the queers just what Mayfield is about, and by
queers I mean all the little homos running around your school sucking
cock."

Peter had no clue what fudge packing was about, but he knew all about
sucking cock and blow jobs. He'd had his cock sucked for the first time
when he was ten by Adam, a basketball teammate on his travel team who
had since moved, during an overnight. Peter knew he loved what had just
happened, but he hadn't been keen on returning the favor, so he gave the
teammate a black eye instead of a blow job.

Adam blamed the black eye on a wayward door, but Peter made sure
everybody knew the real cause. His parent moved to Meadow Park after
the season ended for reasons not related to the incident. He now played
hoops for Meadow Park Middle School as well as the Meadow Park
thirteen and under travel team. Peter used an elbow the first time he played
against Adam to remind him what queers deserved.

 Since then he'd accepted blow jobs from a number of sources, both male
and female. A couple of the males had been high school boys. He made it
very clear to any boy who sucked him that he was getting nothing in return,
but he would be able to hang on to his lunch money for a couple of weeks.
He let the high school boys suck him because he liked receiving the
attention of the teens. He had no problem licking pussy in return for a blow
job.

Peter had lost his virginity just before he turned twelve when he fucked his
fourteen-year-old cousin, Judy, at a family picnic. She led him to a hidden
spot on the woods for the fun.

He'd fucked six other girls after his romp with his cousin, four of them since
school had let out in June. All were one and done except for his cousin and
a sixteen-year-old who seduced the willing thirteen-year-old when his
family vacationed at the ocean. He nailed her three times, twice up the ass.
He had yet to have any anal sex with a boy, but the experience with the
older girl had whetted his curiosity.

The day after Peter's father's rant against the "faggot" coaches and their
"faggot" son, Peter was naked in his bedroom with Roger and Barry. Peter
and Barry were on Peter's king-size bed. Barry was on his knees, hovering
over the boy he worshipped as he gave the young teen an expert blow job.

"You suck cock better than any girl in this stupid town," Peter cooed as
Barry bounced his face up and down the teen's five-inch boy tool, his nose
touching Peter's wispy hairs as he used his lips, tongue, throat, and hand
to pleasure his idol the best he could.

"Fuck, dude, I'm ready to shoot my wad." Peter got up on his knees and
faced the ten-year-old. He grabbed Barry's head and started face-fucking
him, his smooth, hanging balls slapping the preteen's face. "Oh, fucking
shit," Peter yowled has he fired his clear pubescent batter down the
preteen's throat. Barry swallowed what he could, but he intentionally lost
some, letting it dribble down his chin, some of it dripping on his chest. He
knew that Peter thought he looked sexy when that happened.

"If you was a girl, I'd make you my girlfriend," Peter said. "Then I could
even fuck you."

"Boys don't fuck boys," Roger stated knowledgeably. Roger had been
playing with his hard three-inch cocklet while Barry took care of Peter's
needs.

"Only queers do that," Peter said.

"You said only queers give blow jobs, too," Barry reminded him as Peter
licked his cum off of the young boy's chest and chin.

"I said only queers do it because they like doing it with their boyfriend.
You're doing it because I'm telling you to do it." Peter looked over at Roger.
"And the same with you." Barry and Roger had been getting naked with
Peter and jerking him off since they started third grade and Peter started
sixth. They started sucking him off a couple of months after that.

"Does it make you gay if you like having guys give you blow jobs?" Barry
asked.

"Do you think I'm gay?" Peter asked somewhat forcefully.

"No way," Roger answered quickly, a wee bit of fear showing in his voice.

"Damn straight I'm not gay. Every dude likes getting his dick sucked, and
that don't make you gay. It's like I said, you're only gay if you like sucking
your boyfriend."

Roger nodded, feeling a little better. He and Barry sucked each other a lot
and even though he liked it, he would never tell anybody that. There was
an incoming third grader they taught to give blow jobs, just like Peter had
taught them.

"Speaking of faggots," Peter said, "you two gotta kick the ass of that faggot
kid of the baseball coach when he comes to school. Tell him you'll keep
kicking his butt until he promises to give all of us blow jobs."

"We can't do it in school," Barry protested.

"Sure you can. Tell everybody he hit you first. Roger will tell Finstuen you're
telling the truth."

"Everybody knows Roger is my best friend. They'll think he's lying."

"So get Mason Johnson to tell her. Tell him you won't take any of his lunch
money for a month if he lies for you." Peter had a minor extortion business
going on at Lakeview School that Barry and Roger operated for him. He
planned on adding the new kid to his list once he learned who the boss
was. Casey Davis took care of the nerds and losers in sixth and seventh
grades at the middle school for him. He let Casey suck his dick in return.

As a result of Peter's talk, Barry and Roger followed Aiden and Gordon on
the first day of school. They thought Aiden would be taking the bus home
since he lived at the coach's house, but if he was walking home with
Gordon Lansing, then maybe their job would be easier and they wouldn't
have to get anybody else involved in the assault. They decided to talk the
new situation over with Peter and see what he had to say about it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On Thursday after school Aiden and Gordon had soccer practice. Miles and
some of their other teammates joined them as they rode the school bus
part-way to the town park. Barry and Roger, who played on an eleven and
under travel team, made note of that. Their practices were in the evening
under the lights at the town recreation complex. Mudrak played on the
same team as Barry and Roger.

Coach Bill and his two high school assistants made it a point of emphasis
that day to get the boys on Aiden's soccer team to play their positions
rather than chase the ball around the field. The practice consisted of
passing drills and drills to help them move the ball from location to location.
Defense would be their point of emphasis for Saturday's practice. They
only had four practices left before their first game, including the one that
day.

Larry was waiting in the parking lot when practice ended. He gave Gordon
and Miles a ride home before being alone with Aiden. He talked to the boy
about how practice went, how the school day had gone, and if he had any
homework. Larry was working to make their ride times bonding times.

When they got home, Aiden got out of his school clothes and came back
downstairs wearing a longish Seahawks t-shirt and blue briefs with green
trim—Seahawk colors. He saw no need to be any more dressed than he
was after he got home from school, and decided to see what he could get
away with.

Since neither of his uncles said anything, he decided he could get away
with that mode of dress after school, as long as he remembered the
dressing fully when company was around rule (with Gordon being an
obvious exception). Of course he thought about pushing the envelope even
more, but decided to wait for a while before wearing anything less—after
all, there wasn't much more he could take off.

Aiden went into the kitchen and Phil put him to work. He found that he
enjoyed being Phil's assistant cook. He procured whatever Phil needed and
watched him with the preparation.

"I'll get you doing more," Phil told him, "once you get used to what I'm doing
and where things are in the kitchen."

"You mean, I could really do some cooking?" the boy asked.

"Eventually, yes."

"Cool," Aiden grinned.

That night, Larry tucked Aiden in. Aiden almost said, "Yes," when Larry
asked if he wanted to be read to. But, he decided to go into "big" boy mode
and declined as usual. After Larry left, Aiden found his brain racing and he
started tossing and turning. He had been thinking about his mother all
week. He was supposed to have a meeting to talk about her with the doctor
on Monday, but was hoping everybody would forget about it.

His mind focused on the hug he received from Gordon's mother the day
before. It wasn't just a hug people gave because it was one way to say
hello. Aiden knew that Mrs. Lansing gave him the hug because she cared
about him.

Right at that moment, Aiden wanted that kind of hug. He was sure it would
help him to sleep. If Horace was in his bed, he'd hug Horace tightly and fall
asleep with his arms wrapped around the big stuffed donkey, just like he
did on the pullout couch in the apartments he'd lived in. But Horace wasn't
in his bed—he wasn't even in his bedroom. Aiden was feeling incredibly
lonely and lost. He wanted the touch of love.

After pulling back the covers, he walked over the hamper and pulled his
briefs off of the top of the laundry pile. While he had no problem being
naked around his uncles, as such, he knew instinctively that they wouldn't
want him coming naked into their bed. He wondered if they slept naked and
if they did would they kick him out of their bedroom?

Phil and Larry had slept naked together for years. But Dr. Dean Kelly, the
child psychologist who would be seeing Aiden, had told them that Aiden
might have abandonment issues and could wander into their bedroom at
night unannounced. They decided that, at least for now, they would wear
boxers to bed.

It turned out to be a fortuitous decision as a tentative knock on the bedroom
door caused Larry to stir. He noted that Phil was already asleep. "Come in,
Aiden," he said loudly enough for Aiden to hear.

The nine-year-old walked uncertainly into the bedroom. He knew he was
supposed to knock, just like his uncles were, but he still wasn't certain if
that meant he could knock after everyone was in bed. Larry could make out
the silhouette of the boy in the ambient lighting of the room. He noted that
not only had Aiden remembered to knock, he'd remembered to wear
something.

Aiden stopped at the edge of the bed. "How did you know it was me?" he
asked.

"Lucky guess," Larry said gently. He waited for the boy to say something
about why he was in the bedroom. Instead of saying something, Aiden
pulled back the covers, relieved that Larry wasn't naked. He crawled next
to his uncle and scooted up as close as he could, his little body touching
the manly body of his uncle from head to toe.

Larry guessed at what Aiden needed and placed his arm around the boy's
slender torso. "I love you, Aiden," he whispered. That was all Aiden needed
to hear and he quickly fell asleep cradled by his Uncle Larry's arms, body,
and love.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The alarm jolted Aiden into a confused state of wakefulness. "Who's this
sleeping in my bed?" came Phil's voice from the other side of the big king-
sized bed.

"Where am I?" Aiden yawned.

"It would appear you're in your uncles' bed snuggled up to Uncle Larry."

Aiden looked at the time on the digital alarm clock stationed on Larry's
night stand. "You guys get up early," Aiden mumbled.

"Somebody's got to get things ready for you," Larry said. But Aiden didn't
hear him—he'd fallen back to sleep.

Phil walked around the bed, scooped up the young boy, carried him to his
own bedroom, and laid him down in his own bed. He covered the boy with
the bed covers and kissed him on the forehead. "I love you, Aiden." Larry
would come back around to wake Aiden up in around forty-five minutes;
Phil could see that Aiden hadn't set his alarm.

When he returned to his bedroom Larry had stripped off his boxers and
was heading for the shower. "That's it," Phil teased, "leave the dirty work to
me and go take the first shower."

"Aiden came in just after you fell asleep."

"I obviously was sleeping pretty soundly," Phil observed.

"I think he was desperately lonely and needed to be assured that we loved
him."

"The fact that he was willing to come into our bed is a good sign. It shows
that he is beginning to trust us."

"Which means we have to work even harder to stay worthy of that trust."

"Amen to that," Phil said. "Amen to that."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Aiden's third day at school went smoothly. He had never felt so comfortable
in a school, both with the staff and with the students. Even the principal is
being nice to me, he thought, which is not what he was used to. But, then, I
haven't had a chance to get into trouble yet, because nobody has been
picking on me, he mused.

Barry and Roger watched Aiden moving happily though the halls with his
new friends at lunch time.

"How can everybody like him?" Roger asked. "Don't they know who he lives
with?"

"Everybody likes coach Sanders," Barry reminded him. "It's like nobody
cares."

"Well, Peter cares, and Peter is right. We gotta do something about him
and get him into trouble."

Their plans had been put on hold that morning when Mason Johnson said
he wasn't going to lie for Barry and Roger about who threw the first punch
in a fight.

"Aiden is really nice," was Mason's reasoning.

"Well, guess what?" Barry told him.

"What?"

"I'm taking your lunch every day until you say you'll lie about the fight."

"Go ahead."

Barry glared at the little fourth grader. He wasn't used to dealing with
rebellion, and he knew he had to quell it fast—Peter would kick the shit out
of him when he found out. Barry pushed Mason hard, knocking him to the
floor of the hallway. There were only a couple of other students in the hall
and they walked around Mason like nothing out of the ordinary had
happened, which Barry took as a sign of respect for his position.

But, there was an exception. "Barry Bender, you're a big brat," Jenny
Bradford, a fifth grade girl snarled. "I should tell on you."

"If you do, I'll tell everybody what you let Joey Larsen do in your bedroom,"
Barry smirked.

"Ohh, I hate you...I hate all boys," she huffed as she stepped around
Mason.

Barry and Roger headed for the lunchroom. Just as they turned the corner
in the hall, Aiden and Mudrak came across Mason sitting on the floor
fighting back tears.

"What is wrong, Mason?" Muddy asked.

"Nothing," Mason sniffed. So much for being brave, Mason thought. All it
got me was a sore butt and now I'm going to be losing my lunches, too.

Aiden offered Mason his hand, which the little eight-year-old reluctantly
took—the boy was still a few days away from his ninth birthday. "What
happened?" Aiden asked.

Mason sniffed back a couple more tears as Gordon came up to him. "I bet
Roger Bender did it. He's always picking on Mason and some of the other
little kids."

"Does Roger pick on you?" Aiden asked Gordon. While Gordon wasn't one
of the smaller boys in the fourth grade, he wasn't one of the big, tough
ones, either.

"No. He never picks on boys who play sports and stuff. He knows if he tries
anything I'll fight back."

"I'm too small to fight back." Mason said, which was all but a confession
that Barry was behind his fall to the floor.

"I'll go beat him up if I have to," Aiden said. "Bullies should all be beat up to
shut them up."

Aiden was serious about going after bullies. He'd done that the year before
in third grade when some bullies went after him and Freddy Morgan, his
only friend. He didn't give them a second chance to bully him when he
attacked one of them after school. The result was he got in big trouble with
the principal, with his mother, and with his mother's boyfriend of the
moment, who spanked him. The asshole made him pull his jeans down and
spanked him though the thin cloth of his underpants, which really stung—
the man spanked hard.

Aiden was ready to go after Barry, even if he was a big fifth grader. What
Aiden didn't understand was the importance of reputation. Barry was an
athlete and a school leader—an insider, at least as far as many of the staff
were concerned. They overlooked his tendency to slack off in class
because they could use his love of sports to keep him under control. Mrs.
Finstuen and the teachers thought that fourth and fifth graders at Lakeview
Elementary held Barry and Roger in high regard on the peer rating scale.

Aiden, on the other hand, was a fourth grader who was new to the school.
Even with his connection to Coach Larry Sanders, he was an outsider. Mrs.
Finstuen and Mr. Knox both knew that his records stated he had been in
trouble for fighting more than once at his old school. The boy had seemed
nice enough over the first three days of school, but they felt it would be a
matter of time before his reputation took over and he'd show his true colors.

Reputations were going to have a lot to do with how adults would view the
conflict between Aiden Miller and Barry Bender.

Next: Horace