Date: Thu, 8 Oct 2015 13:51:11 +0000
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Rough Edges  Chapter 13

Welcome back to "Rough Edges". In this chapter, Phil and his friends stay
on the bus ready to kick the living shit out of Larry and his group of friends
right on their home turf. But, the rumble turns out differently than
anticipated and Phil finds his life turning in an entirely new direction.

Please remember to be safe. And please remember this story is mine. And
please remember big time to donate to Nifty.

I love reader email. Douglas. thehakaanen@hotmail.com


CHAPTER 13
TURNING POINT

<Larry Sanders>

The Class B championship game we were watching had been a good one
from the start. The score was 2-2 entering the fourth inning, but it was time
for us to head for the locker room and prepare for our own game. I sent Phil
and Coach Hart to round up the herd and made my way to the locker room.
We were in the visitors' locker room, which we shared with the Damon
Dragons, who hailed from the Okanagan country of north-central
Washington. I wanted the team dressed and out of the locker room by the
time their B game was over.

We had left all of our equipment in the locker room, so most of boys came
in carrying nothing. A couple of them had taken their gloves out to the
stands with them. I knew they were not for the purpose of snagging foul
balls. They were more like talismans, familiar objects the boys could hold to
give them comfort—something like a younger boy holding a stuffed animal.
It didn't surprise me that Jeffrey and Nick had each taken his glove out to
the stands.

As the boys dressed, I couldn't help but admire their beautiful bodies. I
know, I shouldn't harbor such thoughts, but I am gay and they are beautiful.
But, like a happily married straight man, it is look but never touch. I love my
position as a teacher and coach, I totally love my man Phil, but I can't help
but appreciate what I see in front of me, even though I know I would never
sample the wares.

Of course when I was a boy I was far less discriminating. But in that case I
was dealing with my peers. We were young, learning what being horny was
about, and experimenting to find out what our bodies could do and what it
was we liked to do with them. And, in some instances, we had actual cases
of puppy love for a peer. Q and I were a prime example. Jung and Perry
seemed to have something going, even as Perry got all of the sex he
wanted from his older brother and his teen friends.

While they were mum about it, I had my suspicions regarding the two quiet
ones in our little group. There was a reason Ben was constantly passing up
his stop on the east side and riding with us and that reason was Daniel.
None of us failed to notice that Ben always ended up at Daniel's house and
often stayed overnight there, even on school days. I was to learn later that
Andy and Phil had also been a pair at that time.

And then there was that afternoon on the bus when Phil, Skyler, Carlos,
Tim, and Vance rode to our stop and got off with us. As soon as we saw
they weren't getting off at the east side stop we knew there was trouble
brewing.

We had no idea why that gang wanted to create trouble with us; it's not like
we'd ever done anything to them. Besides, how did they expect to get away
with it? We failed to take into account that a lot of our peers were just plain
stupid. It was as if that group of boys felt like they had to prove something
to themselves and to each other, and for whatever reason we'd become
their targets.

Jung, Perry, Ben, Daniel, Q, and I were so many things they weren't. We
were all good students, although Perry lingered on the borderline between
good and average. We were athletic boys. All of us, even Ben, could be
considered young jocks. Most of us were popular. Ben was a non-
conformist, who owed what popularity he had to being a member of our
group. Perry was often an irascible sort, but still fit in with us, which our
peers noticed as well.

Maybe that was why they wanted to get to us, simply because we were
what they weren't and what they wanted to be. Phil and I used to debate
the reason for the confrontation that afternoon. He pretty much agrees with
me, but he also thought young adolescent hormones were also a factor—
shutting down the brain to gain a physical thrill by being intimidating. He
knew Skyler had a boner on the bus ride. Skyler made sure to point out the
fact to Phil and Tim.

As the bus pulled away the eleven of us stood there wondering who was
going to make the first move. We knew something was going to happen,
we just didn't know what. Nobody said a word. I know I wanted to run to my
house, which was a half-block away. I certainly didn't want to fight, but
running simply wasn't in my makeup. When something did happen it wasn't
what we expected.

There has always been some dispute among us as to whether Phil or Tim
made the first move. The way I saw it, Tim took a step towards us, which is
what set Phil off to land the first blow. I suppose it depends on how you
define what the first move was. But, as soon as Tim took his step, Phil
turned and landed a blow right into Tim's gut, causing him to stagger back.

Vance, who was the biggest kid in the bunch, moved to grab Phil, who was
strong, but was also a little shrimp at the time, while Skyler yelled, "What
the fuck are you doing, Phil? He's on our side." Vance knocked Phil down
and kicked him in the ribs. He was about to kick him again when Ben
landed a blow that sent Vance collapsing to the ground next to Phil. I guess
I should have mentioned that quiet, weird looking Ben with his Mohawk
took regular martial arts lessons. He was wiry, strong, and quick—which
made him not only a great soccer player but somebody you didn't want to
mess with.

I sensed Carlos behind me and I turned and landed a nice punch right in
his nose. I may have been in only one real fight in my life, but I knew the
basics. That fight was back in fourth grade between Perry and me, and it
was a typical fight at my old elementary school—a lot of macho showing
off, but not a hell of a lot of action.

I heard Old Lady Johnson's voice yell out from her porch. "If you boys don't
stop that right now I am going to call the police." We all swore that Mrs.
Johnson was over 100 years old, but she really was a sprightly 82. She
was holding a cellphone in her hand and quickly put it up to her ear.

Tim helped Vance to his feet. Vance staggered around a bit, but still
managed to give Phil another kick in the ribs and then added one in his
crotch for good measure. Phil moaned in pain as his four buddies took off. I
found out later they didn't have far to run since Tim's high school age
brother was waiting for them with a car.

"Just what do you boys think you're doing getting into a fight?" Mrs.
Johnson croaked. She looked at me with a steely glare. "Your mother
would be ashamed of you, Lawrence Sanders." Mrs. Johnson knew
everybody and everything in our neighborhood.

"They came after us," I protested. "We had to defend ourselves."

"Boys should never fight," she admonished us, but me in particular. "Your
mother will hear about this."

I wanted to beg her not to call my mother, but I didn't for two reasons. First,
I didn't want my friends, and in particular Phil, to see me begging. Second, I
had more confidence in my ability to handle my mother than in my ability to
handle Old Lady Johnson.

"Who is that strange boy?" Mrs. Johnson asked as Jung and Daniel helped
Phil to his feet. He was obviously in some pain.

"That's my friend," I replied. I was as surprised as Phil and my buddies
about what had just come out of my mouth.

"Well, you shouldn't hang around with boys who fight. He was the one who
started it." Old Lady Johnson had obviously been watching us from the
moment we all got off of the bus.

"We better be getting home," Q said, as he pulled me away from Mrs.
Johnson's yard, saving me from further interrogation by the old lady.

Since my house was the closest, we headed there. Our pace was hindered
somewhat by Phil's hobbling, but it still only took us a few minutes to get
there. I unlocked the front door and we crowded through. We had been on
guard against our tormentors all the way home.

My mom is usually home when I get off of school, but she told me she'd be
stopping to pick up some groceries on the way home from work. My mom
was an x-ray technician while my dad was a radiologist. That was how they
met. They don't work in the same place any more—my dad is on the staff
of the city hospital while my mom works for a radiology clinic.

Mom was okay with my friends being in the house, but she was a bit leery
of strangers. However, Phil was hurting and I sure wasn't going to abandon
him in a strange neighborhood, especially after what he'd just done for us.
We sat in the living room, taking up all of the chair and couch space.

"Phil, you were awesome, dude," Q uttered the first words to Phil since the
altercation at the bus stop.

"Yeah, you nailed Tim's ass big time," Perry put in.

"I thought you were on their side," Jung said.

Phil was sitting on the couch rubbing his left ribs. He looked like he was
trying to figure out what to say. We all waited for him to explain why he had
turned on Tim instead of going after one of us.

<Phil Miller>

I saw my brother, Troy, as I followed Larry and the Mustangs out of the
seats as we started for the locker room to get ready for our game. He had
been at yesterday's game as well and we found time to talk after our win.
He had my eleven-year-old nephew, Chase, with him. Troy also has a
daughter, Lisa, who is six, but she didn't come. "This is a guys' weekend
out," he grinned.

"I heard about your problems last night," he told me.

"Word gets around fast."

"Yeah, you might as well have a plane fly over the field towing a banner.
Sounds like they were a pair of dumb teens acting like dumb teens."

"Yeah, something like that," I agreed.

"Which is something you would know nothing about."

"Nor would you."

"Were you two both dumb when you were younger?" Chase chimed in.

Troy ruffled his son's longish hair. "Yes we were, so learn from your dad
and your uncle...don't go doing dumb things when you're a kid."

"Or when you're an adult like Uncle Keegan," Chase said with sincere
innocence. I knew Troy was honest with his son about Keegan's problems.

It was my turn to ruffle his hair, which I always enjoyed doing. My
strawberry blond nephew was a real cutie and in a different world I could
easily become the "dirty" uncle. "You are a very perceptive young man," I
told him. Chase grinned and nodded as if that was something everybody
should take for granted.

Troy wished me good luck in the game.

"North Lake is a fine team," I told him. "They only have one loss." I wanted
to say they were a "damned fine team", but in deference to Chase I kept my
comment watered down.

"Your schools have developed quite a rivalry the last few years."

"That we have. It's going to be a tight game, I think."

"You guys are going to kick ass," Chase said with a huge smile.

"Chase," his dad admonished half-heartedly. Troy had become a fine
father, something he hadn't had a good role model for. I think he may have
learned a lot of the ins and outs of fatherhood from dealing with Keegan
and me in the absence of our father.

Troy gjennave me a big hug. "Good luck, bro," he said again.

I started to head off when Chase grabbed me. I got another hug from my
young nephew. "Good luck, Uncle Phil. And kick ass, I don't care what dad
thinks." He looked at his dad with a sly smile. Troy and I couldn't help but
break out laughing.

The boys were already starting to change when I entered the locker room.
Larry looked like he was either lost in thought or was admiring the bodies of
the half-dressed teens in front of him. I'd be willing to bet on the latter.

I sat on a bench and did some clandestine admiring of my own. Korey had
become a hunk of a teen. His twin brothers were good athletes, and Kevin,
for one, had started some serious weight work by his junior year. Korey had
as well and it showed. He was determined to be a better catcher, a better
ballplayer, than Kevin. I don't know if he felt the same rivalry with Kraig.

Chandler, on the other hand, wasn't quite as keen to doing weight work. He
did spend some time in the weight room because Korey did, but he was
one of those lanky athletes whose movements were naturally smooth. His
long arms and strong legs gave him plenty of leverage and power, making
him one of the better pitchers in the state, let alone in Class A.

I am certain that a number of big colleges shied away from recruiting the
two of them. First, there was the fact that the smaller schools simply didn't
play at the same level of competition as the big schools. That was true, but
that didn't mean the small schools didn't produce talented athletes. Marty
was an example in baseball. Carl, a classmate of the twins, played football
at the University of Washington. He also played in the Mustang's second
state championship game as a senior, but football was his sport much more
so than baseball.

Korey and Chandler also had another issue. They were openly gay and
were open about their relationship with each other. Their attitude was you
take one you take the other; they were coming as a pair. Understandably,
the big colleges didn't like being dictated to, nor did many of the small
ones. But Washington State was more than happy to get a pair of talented
ballplayers into their program and offered both of them a full ride. Seeing
what they'd received from Marty, the school was ready to take a chance on
two more boys from the Mayfield baseball program. They could become the
first out gay couple to play together on a major college baseball field. How
life had changed since Larry and I were their age.

My thoughts went back farther, back to that day on a street corner in
Larry's neighborhood when I made one of the biggest decisions of my life.
My thoughts went back to when I stepped off of my school bus in a strange
neighborhood with four other boys, one of whom I hardly even knew. They
went back to my finally realizing that the boys I thought were my friends
were boys I didn't want to have as friends.

I had been a loner most of my life—I didn't think I needed friends. And I
didn't want to be a part of their attack on what seemed like a nice group of
boys who had never done anything to us. I had no idea how things had
gotten to this point. But, as I watched the group of six boys get off the bus
and stand together, almost daring us to attack them, I realized they had
something I had had only once in my life, and that was true friendship.

Tim took a step towards them and I came to my decision in that instant. I
turned and punched him in the gut. Before I knew it I was on the ground
being kicked by cowardly Vance. I couldn't see what was happening
around me. I thought for sure that Larry and his friends were getting their
clocks cleaned, when it turned out they were doing the cleaning.

When Vance landed next to me and when I saw Carlos holding his shirt
against his bloody nose, I knew this fight was over. Some old lady started
yelling and wondered who I was. I thought I heard Larry tell her I was his
friend, but I knew that couldn't be true. My mind felt numb and wiped out,
like I'd just had a pot smoking session with Keegan. Somebody gave me
his hand and helped me up.

Before I could get my head clear, I was in Larry's living room. My left ribs
ached and my balls ached. I wanted to be home on my bed with an icepack
or something on me.  I flopped down on the floor, laying on my back and
staring at the ceiling wondering what the fuck I'd done this time. Then I
realized that somebody was talking to me.

"You nailed Tim's ass big time," Perry told me.

"I thought you were on their side," Jung added.

I tried to think of what to say, but I couldn't come up with something
profound, so I said the first sentence that popped into my mind. "Those
guys were assholes."

That netted some cheers and applause. Larry patted my shoulder and said
he was going to get some drinks. Q followed him to the kitchen. Larry came
back and handed me an ice cold can of soda, and an ice pack. For the first
time since I started sixth grade, I was feeling truly accepted.

"My parents say to put ice on a bruise, so you can put this on your ribs,"
Larry told me.

"What about my balls?" I asked, which brought a roar of laughter from the
group.

"You can't get a boner if your balls are cold," Perry said.

That was when Larry's mother walked in. She saw all of the familiar faces
and acted like she was used to having a houseful of kids. Larry, Q, and Ben
were ordered out to the garage to bring in some groceries and then she
saw me.

"Well, who do we have here?" she asked.

"That is our friend Phil," Larry told her. Apparently he was the one who told
the old lady I was their friend when I was lying on the ground after the fight.

"Well, it is nice to meet you, Phil," she said. "I'm Jennifer. And, in case you
haven't guessed, I'm Larry's mother." I struggled to get up off of the floor.
"Are you okay?" she asked.

Before I could answer, the phone rang and she excused herself to answer
it. I lowered myself onto the couch as Larry and Q returned with drinks and
an ice pack for me. Since they didn't have enough hands for everything,
they went back to the kitchen for the rest of the drinks.

As they passed out the drinks, Jennifer hung up the phone and looked at
us with concern. "I just spoke with Mrs. Johnson," she told us. "What's this
about a big fight?"

"Mom, it was nothing. These guys stayed on the bus and got off at our stop
and wanted to fight us. We chased them off."

She looked over at me, her eyes a bit more critical than the first time she
looked at me. "Is that how you hurt yourself, by chasing them off? And why
did they come all this way to have a fight with you boys. Did you do
something to anger them, or are they a gang of bullies?"

I decided to add my part to Larry's half-truth. "They were mad at me and
that's why they followed us on the bus. They don't like me so they decided
to pick on...pick on...um...well, my friends and me." I breathed out a
painful sigh of relief when everybody nodded in agreement. I felt especially
good to see the look of surprise on Larry's face.

"Yeah, Phil's right. They were mad at him because he wouldn't join their
gang." Larry tacked on a little bit more to our developing story.

"Well, it's good of you to stand up for yourself, Phil," she said dubiously.
Then she looked over at Larry. "But, I wish you'd told me you were bringing
a new friend over."

"I know. I'm sorry, mom. I forgot."

"And, as I'm discovering, forgetfulness seems to be a common disease
afflicting eleven-year-old boys."

After interrogating us a little more, Jennifer appeared to be satisfied with
our story. She said she would talk to the school principal the next day, but
Larry successfully begged her not to. He said they scared the bullies off
and they shouldn't be bothered by them anymore. "Mom, if you say
something, they'll just get all mad again." They reached a compromise with
Larry promising to tell her if they got picked on or threatened again. I admit
I was impressed at how well Larry managed to manipulate his mother.

Jennifer asked to take a look at my ribs. "Um...I'd have to pull up my shirt,"
I said.

"And your point is?" I shrugged. "I'm a mother. I have a son. I've taken
shirts off of a boy before." With a twinkle in her eye she went on. "Take
your shirt off or I'll make Larry take it off for you."

That actually sounded tempting, but I pulled off my shirt, feeling somewhat
embarrassed about being shirtless in a room full of boys along with one
mother.

Then Larry suddenly pulled off his shirt. "I don't want you to feel alone," he
grinned. For the first time, I saw Larry shirtless and I was not disappointed.
My dick started to stir, which reminded me that my balls ached, although
not as badly as my ribs did.

Jennifer felt along my ribs, making me wince. Her ministrations tickled and
hurt at the same time. "You may want to have this x-rayed," Jennifer
suggerted.

"I'll tell my mom," I said unconvincingly.

"No, I think I'll tell her." Even though Larry showed he could manipulate his
mother, she also managed to show that she didn't harbor very much
bullshit when it really counted. I gave her my mother's work number.

I reached for my shirt, but it was gone. Q was holding it. I hadn't noticed
him taking his own shirt off. He wasn't bad looking either.

"Let's go up to my room," Larry suggested.

"Will we all fit?" I asked.

"It's a pretty big room; we've all been in it before."

"But one more person might have us sitting on each other's laps," Jung
giggled.

"Keep that ice on your ribs," Larry's mom reminded me as we hustled out of
the living room.

I was impressed with Larry's room. It was spacious with lots of sports
posters hanging on his walls. He had a shelf lined with trophies—I counted
eight of them. The room was neat, but not overly so. There were various
items scattered around. There was no doubt it was the room of a boy. It
was much bigger than the little bedroom Troy and I shared, and way bigger
than the glorified closet that passed as a bedroom for Keegan. He had his
own television and computer along with a neatly made up queen-sized bed
in one corner of the room.

I stretched out on the floor once again, my legs spread, which made my
testicles feel better. While my balls ached some, they weren't painful like
my ribs.

"Why are you lying down like that?" Ben asked.

"Because it makes me feel better," I answered.

"You mean it makes your nuts feel better?"

"Exactly."

"You can lie down on my bed," Larry offered. He didn't have to invite me
again. I eased myself up off of the floor and plopped down on Larry's bed.
Perry was sitting on the end, but it was a big bed with plenty of room for the
two of us, or for even more.

"Your nuts would feel even better if you opened up your pants," Q
suggested.

"I know...but...well, you know...um...it would be embarrassing." I wasn't
referring to my underwear being the dirty grays I used to wear. I had on the
whiteys I bought when I was friends with Andy, and I made sure, with the
help of Troy, that they were white when they came out of the wash. I was
referring to the fact that it would be embarrassing for me to be on my back
on a bed in front of a bunch of guys I barely knew with my pants
unbuttoned and unzipped. To make it even worse, the thought of doing it
was making me hard.

"I've seen you with a boner," Jung said, "so it's no big deal seeing you in
your underpants."

Jung's statement made me so embarrassed that my face and body felt like
they were going to burn up. I knew he was referring to my boner in the
school showers when I did the dare I had been given by Carlos and his
gang. I figured that gave me the perfect comeback.

"You had one, too." I was so hoping that all he saw was my boner and that
he hadn't seen that I was jerking off, or else he'd be trumping me.

"You can see it again if you want," Jung smirked.

All I knew was I had to relieve some of the pressure on my balls, so I
unbuttoned my jeans and unzipped them. I kept enough of the flap over my
junk to make it hard for anybody to see that I had an erection. The fact that
I was still a boy with a boy-sized boner helped to hide my problem.

"Thanks for helping us today," Larry said. He sat on the edge of the bed.
Since I was in the middle, there was plenty of room.

"They're assholes. I was tired of them." I adjusted myself some, not caring
who saw. Although my briefs weren't real tight, my gonads were feeling
much more comfortable, even if I still fit in them pretty well. I had the ice
bag leaning against my ribs, so I couldn't really move much. "Plus, you
guys have always treated me okay."

"Well, without you, that would have been a disaster," Jung admitted.

"You guys did okay out there. I didn't know you were that good. I mean Ben
totally surprised me and Carlos won't forget the bloody nose Larry gave
him." I'm sure I'd said more around Larry in the last half-hour than I had in
the first six weeks of school.

"I take martial arts classes," Ben informed me.

"It shows. I'm never going to fight you, that's for sure."

"Just because we don't go around being bullies and fighting all the time
doesn't mean we can't stand up for ourselves," Perry said.

"How are the nuts?" Jung asked.

"Dang, you guys are sure hung up on my balls."

"A guy has to have his balls in shape. How else can he jerk off," Perry said
without a hint of embarrassment.

Before anybody could reply, there was a knock on the door. "Can I come
in?" Jennifer asked.

"Enter," was Larry's reply. His back was to me and he'd obviously forgotten
I was lying on his bed, shirtless, with the front of my pants wide open and
my white briefs exposed. I hadn't forgotten, however, and quickly rolled on
my side to avoid being seen in my near depantsed state.

Jennifer entered the room. She didn't comment on the fact that Larry, Q,
and I still hadn't put our shirts on. "I am loaded with announcements," she
told us. "First, a question. How are your ribs, Phil?"

"Better," I mumbled.

"You can take the ice pack off," she instructed. "Twenty minutes on
followed by twenty minutes off and then redo the cycle."

"So, what are the announcements?" Larry asked with a hint of impatience
in his voice.

"Is your phone off, Daniel?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot to turn it on after school."

"Your mother called and said she wants you to come home."

"Oh, yeah, okay."

"Daniel's mother always calls right about now," Jung informed me.

"Yeah," Larry chimed in. "He knows she's going to call, but he always waits
for her. And half the time he forgets to turn his phone on." Larry looked at
his mother. "Next."

"I talked to Phil's mother. She has to work late tonight, but will take Phil in
for an x-ray in the morning. It felt to me like he didn't break anything, but
with ribs you never know."

"Is that it?" Larry asked.

"It appears there was some very bad planning on your part," she scolded.
She didn't specify as to whom, exactly, she was referring to, but I figured
she meant Larry and me. Well, for a story we'd concocted on the fly, I
thought we'd done pretty well. "You never came up with a way for Phil to
get home. His mother can't pick him up until after seven."

Larry and I said nothing. We were both waiting for the punchline. Mothers
always had punchlines, and they rarely were anything funny.

"Our solution is for Phil to stay here for dinner and doing homework. His
mother will call when she's on the way. But, you both might want to think
things out before setting up another visit. Inviting Phil over is not the same
as having your neighborhood friends come over."

"I can walk home," I offered. "I know the way."

"I won't hear of it. I'm happy to have a new friend of Larry's here for dinner.
All I'm saying is, learn from this and plan things better the next time."

After she left, I rolled over on my back and put the ice pack on Larry's
nightstand. Ben announced he was leaving with Daniel ("Ben always
leaves with Daniel after school," Jung informed me). I was getting the idea
that the group had a regular routine going. I wondered what it was like to be
friends for a long time like these guys were.

Daniel and Ben said good-bye and started out of the door. Ben stopped
and looked directly at me. "You are cooler than I thought," he said. "You
made up for punching out Larry. You're lucky I didn't punch you out then,
but I thought Larry would tattle on you and you'd get kicked out of school
and I wouldn't get in trouble."

"That's a big mouthful coming from Ben," Q laughed. "He talks almost as
little as Daniel does."

"Oh, and you look good with your pants open like that. Don't forget to rub
your balls so they feel better," Ben smirked before turning and following
Daniel out of the door.

"Ben is right," Perry said. "You are cooler than we all thought. After you
punched Larry we all hated you."

"I'm really sorry I punched you Larry. I don't hate you or anything. I was
just...I don't know...I was just being stupid."

"It's cool," Larry told me. "Now it's like it never happened." He was right
about that. One of the first things I learned about Larry is that he never held
a grudge. An apology always ended an incident for him. That is an
excellent trait for a teacher and a coach to have.

One of my character flaws was that I did hold grudges. Larry and his
friends were teaching me on my very first time with them that maybe there
was another way to deal with people other than holding grudges. Or
maybe, rather than teaching me, they were reinforcing what Troy was trying
to get me to understand by showing me.

"You guys are amazing. I thought you would all hate me."

"You didn't have to punch Tim, but you did," Larry pointed out. "Now, the
subject is closed."

"Except for one more thing."

"Now what?" I could tell that Perry was the impatient one the group.

"Larry said I was his friend," I whispered.

"I couldn't hear you," Q said. He was sitting on a beanbag chair on the
other side of the room.

I raised my voice a little and repeated myself.

"I did say that you were my friend and that you were our friend, too," Larry
agreed. "I mean, you are if you want to be."

I couldn't fight my smile. This was what I'd wanted since the first day of
school—friends. But I was so hung up on my anger so much of the time
that I thought I had to fight my way to friendship—or, as in the case of Tim
and his gang, buy my way there.

"You have a nice smile," Larry said softly. I felt myself blushing yet again. I
also found myself getting hard again.

"How are your balls?" Jung asked me for what seemed like the millionth
time.

"What's with the balls again?" I asked.

"Do they hurt?"

"No, they're just a little sore."

"We've been telling you that rubbing them makes them feel better," Q
pointed out yet again.

I opened the flaps on my jeans, lifted my knees, spread my legs, and
rubbed my testicles through the white cotton of my briefs. My little cock was
rock hard, and I didn't care who noticed. After all, everybody knew Jung
had seen me with a boner, and that was with me naked.

"Feel better?" Larry croaked. He was still sitting next to me and was looking
directly at me. I heard myself moan a little when I saw him adjust the crotch
of his jeans. Suddenly, things were getting very electric in Larry's bedroom.

"You know, it feels even better if you don't rub your nuts through your
underpants, but pull your undies down and rub them," Perry told me, as if I
didn't already know that.

"Are you guys gay or something with all this rubbing your balls talk?" I
asked. I was turned on and I knew I was turned on. I wondered just how far
these guys had gone sexually and how far they wanted to go right now.
Even with my ribs aching and my balls sore, I was horny as hell.

"He has a boner," Larry said to nobody in particular.

"So do I." Perry wrapped his hand around the bulge in his pants to
demonstrate.

I kept rubbing myself because it felt good. I knew it would feel even better if
I rubbed my dick, but I was afraid of taking things too far and having my
new friends think I was the one who was gay.

"You should see if Perry is right about rubbing your balls," Jung told me.
"We don't mind seeing your boner, do we?" he asked his friends.

"It's cool with me," Q answered." I've seen boners before."

"Are your nuts feeling better?" Larry asked.

"Yeah, a lot better," I replied.

"Pull your underpants down," Q commanded. "You're our friend and we
want you to feel good." I was certain Q was as concerned about seeing my
junk as he was about me feeling good.

I yanked down my jeans and kicked them off, grunting once because the
movement hurt my ribs. I was now dressed in just my briefs and socks and
was wickedly turned on.

"He looks really hard," Perry whispered.

I went back to rubbing my balls through my underpants, feeling every bit
like an exhibitionist, even if I didn't know the term at the time.

"Take your undies off." It was Larry who commanded me this time.

"I will if somebody else takes his off, too." I was not about to be the only
one showing off his junk. They said they were my friends, but at that
moment I was a bit suspicious. Maybe they were going to use this against
me for punching Larry in the hall. Somebody was going to have to join me
and be my insurance.

I closed my eyes and kept rubbing my balls, which kept stimulating my
pulsing cock, which was what I really wanted to start rubbing. Nobody said
a word. I slid my hand inside of my undies, ready to wrap my fingers
around my balls, when I heard a zipper being pulled down. I opened my
eyes to see whose zipper it was.

Next: Championship Game