Date: Fri, 7 Jan 2011 10:17:03 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: THe FoiLs of FLeTcH VaN DaM 01 (NEW family saga - two boys coming of age)

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any
resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely
coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons,
of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages,
neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male
relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy
sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not
read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most
states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check
with your local laws regarding such.

% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.

THe FoiLs of FLeTcH VaN DaM 01
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

A young family saga expanding from elementary school, through college and
over a lifetime, as two young boys journey into gay adulthood.

%

Wallon-Claude Fletcher-Van Dam.

It was a mouthful for anyone to say, especially a second grade teacher with
more than a handful of students. When first introduced, a few days after
the school year began at the private institution, the mother insisting on
her son being referred to as Wallon-Claude, so when he matured into
adulthood, Wallon-Claude could follow in his father's footsteps and achieve
the status of an actor of the stage, boasting a distinguished calling
thereof.

However it wasn't to be, not the teacher at fault. Like any school
environment, `short' was the `in' thing, `Robert' becoming `Rob' or `Bob',
`Jonathan', `Jon', `Michael', `Mikey', `Jason', `Jase', and soon,
`Wallon-Claude' shortened to plain ole `Wally', at the discretion of
Wallon-Claude's classmates.

For quality purposes, at parent-teacher conferences, Wally morphed back to
Wallon-Claude, when reporting how pleasant a young man he was, always
getting along with the other boys in the class, doing superb brain work,
showing leadership among his peers, even assuming the role of arbitrator
during heated moments of disagreement, at which time the teacher would
allow things to progress on their own level, everyone receiving a valued
lesson in citizenship and how to behave and work out things in a civilized
society.

"Oh I am so very happy to hear such good news about my Wallon-Claude!"
Mrs. Fletcher-Van Dam would exclaim, throwing her two hands together,
making a clapping sound, then rising up out of her seat.

Ms. Hunnicut did the same, got out of her seat, but not in such a dramatic
manner, more than less, provoked by her student's mother. It was one
parent-teacher conference she was more than happy to get out of the ,
sighing a deep exhale when Mrs. Fletcher-Van Dam was escorted out the
door. But for now she had to still put up with the interrogation, choosing
her words or response carefully.

Held in what was to be a secluded area of the room, neither parent, nor
teacher, could hear one of Wally's friends comment, "You're mother's
weird!"

Not able to dispute the fact, or rather wanting to provoke a confrontation
over such a trivial matter, Wally agrees, "I know." But he couldn't let
Tyler get off the hook, "But so is your mother!"

"Is not!" Tyler differed.

"Is too!" Wally stood his ground.

Then came the mar on Wallon-Claude's record, the two going at it on the
floor, teacher and mother breaking up the wrestling match.

All the kids were amazed though as Wally didn't get cussed out by his
mother, rather Mrs. Fletcher-Van Dam putting on the teacher's shoulders, "I
will let you deal with this matter Mrs. Hunnicut and I am sure, since you
have already admitted my Wallon-Claude a role model per se for the class,
this other little hooligan is properly disciplined?"

`Oh wow!' Wally was thinking. Already at a young age he was thinking how he
could get away with `murder'. It wasn't meant to be though. After his
mother left, both he and Tyler were marched right to the principal's
office. It wasn't too bad though, being talked to.

Even leaving Mr. Kiernan's office, Wally and Tyler seemed to forget why
they were there in the first place.

First and second grades flew by without incident, the two nurturing their
friendship with activity and doing homework together. During their third
year of elementary school, whenever a project arose, Wally and Tyler would
volunteer to pair up.

It wasn't until fourth grade the two, who had by this time become very good
friends, put two and two together. Playing dodgeball out on the school
field, Wally had made what seemed like the play of the game, his foot
heaving the red rubber ball straight through the legs of two boys, the
third boy getting hit in the knee. The ball ricocheting off his kneecap,
sailing through the air, they cheered...

Silence broke the bough of the noisy fourth grade boys, rushing to
Mr. Astopolis' sides as he lay on the ground, clutching himself with both
hands.

"Oh my God Wally! You hit him in the weiner!"

"I hope I didn't break it!" Wally exclaims, squatting at the gym teacher's
side.

It had been Astopolis' first reaction, preservation and realizing the
circumstances, it being a cusioned ball, the other, a man among boys, he
instantly composed himself and rearranged his painful outcry, brushing it
off as nothing at all, "Back to the game!"

Back in the makeshift lockerroom, cubby holes lined a wall where the boys
left their shoes and pants, donning sneakers and gym shorts. As the others
changed and hightailed it off to lunch, talk surrounded their coach.

Monopolizing the conversation, Tyler says, patting Wally on the shoulder,
"I don't think you broke anything, because if you hurt Mr. A's thingy, he
woulda said something."

"Still doesn't make me feel too good," Wally replies.

By this time the last of the boys had headed off to lunch, the time spot
which came after the forty minute athletic period.

"Ya know, if it made you feel better Wally, you could tell Mr. A you're
sorry?"

Wally liked Tyler's idea, which made him speed up the action, tie his shoes
fast and stand. Ready for action, Wally says, "Ready?"

"Who me?" Tyler asks, pointing to himself.

"You're my friend, aren't ya? Besides, you came up with the idea?"

Seeing Wally's point, plus feeling a bit glowing because he was being
heralded for thinking it up, Tyler replies, "Yeah, okay."

So, down the corridor, a left at the wall and to Mr. Astopolis' door they
pranced.

Wally was all ready to knock, when Tyler says, "Wait a minute!"

"What?" Wally asks, his fist in the air, all ready to call attention to
their gym teacher.

"I hear something."

Sure enough, Wally turned an ear to the door and heard it too, saying,
"Sounds like Mr. A is out of breath!"

"No," Tyler differed. "He's still getting out of breath. Listen!"

Again, Wally listened to the door and sure enough the two heard sounds of
panting, like an animal running away from a predator.

Without knowledge of certain things, Tyler guesses, "He must be doing
pushups."

"Or jumping jacks?" Wally comes up with.

"Nah. I don't hear any jumping."

Wally asks, "Maybe he didn't hear me knock?"

"You didn't knock!" Tyler returns.

"Oh. Yeah. That's right. Should I?"

"I guess," Tyler says.

So Wally knocks and as he does he hears, instead of a pleasant welcome,
Mr. Apostopolis yell out, "Oh-h sh-h-h-hit!"

Thinking something terribly wrong, Wally's hand is on the knob and Tyler's
shoulder against the door, the two barging in on the gym teacher, yelling,
"You alright Mr. A?"

He was alright, alright. More than alright. However, looking at the two
fourth grade boys intruding on his privacy, things were `not' alright.

"Don't you boys know how to knock?" he said to the two with heightened
anxiety as he mashed his wet cock and balls back into his sweatpants.

Regardless of their lack of politeness, nor answering Mr. Apostolis'
question, the two were filled with curiosity, Tyler asking, "Mr. A, what's
all that white, gooey stuff on the floor?"

Moving it with the toe of his shoe, Wally observes, "Yeah, kind of
slippery."

And because the two walked in just as Apostolis reached orgasm, sending
jets of cum out of his long, thick cock, Tyler asks, "How come it wasn't
all yellow and watery?"

Fresh out of college with only a year of teaching under his belt, the
twenty-five year old athletic teacher hadn't time to think things through,
so advises the two, "Go home and ask your fathers!"

The rest of the day, including lunch, the two boys weren't into eating, nor
their studies. Even Miss Burns noticed it, asking if the boys thought they
were coming down with a cold.

Good thing about the boys, not only did they attend a private school for
their sexual gender, but they lived within two blocks of each other. After
the small yellow school bus let them off at the end of their coiffed
neighborhood street, the two walked the treelined road.

"Are you going to ask your dad?" Tyler says, thinking if Wally did, he
wouldn't have too!

Stopping and leaning his back against his favorite oak tree, Wally says, "I
feel kind of weird asking him. Besides, my dad is in the city. He's an
actor you know?"

"I know," Tyler replies, but this `thing' was on his mind more, so badgers,
"Why don't you ask your mom?"

"Ugh... um... uh... I don't know." Wally tries weaseling his way out of it,
"I think you should ask your dad."

In a dirge, Tyler replies, "My dad's a minister, remember?"

"I remember. So? If he knows the Bible it must make him pretty smart, so he
should know?"

"Ya don't understand Wally. Every time I ask my dad something he always
tells Bible stuff back and I have to stand there for fifteen minutes and
get bored!"

With gumtion Wally replies, "Well I don't feel right telling my mom we seen
Mr. A's weiner shoot out this white stuff all over the floor!"

It then occurs to Tyler, "Hey, I wonder why Mr. A was making so much
noise?"

Wally reasons, "Probably because it hurt? Remember he got hit there with
the dodgeball!"

"I hope you didn't ruin anything," Tyler concludes.

"If something was coming out of his weiner, even though we don't know what
it was, probably it's okay."

Tyler says, "Yeah, but it wasn't all runny and yellow so maybe there's
something wrong and the way Mr. A was screamin'," he perceived the ecstatic
panting, "he could be hurt?"

"I wish we knew," Wally says with frustration.

Hearing a buzzing lawnmower, Tyler suggests, pointing diagonally across the
street, "Hey! I got a great idea! Why don't you ask Jason?"

First thing to come to mind, Wally asks, "Why me? Why don't you?"

"Um, because," he tried thinking up a good reason, swaying Wally with,
"because it was you who kicked the dodgeball that hit Mr. A between the
legs?"

"I guess," Wally replies, still feeling a bit guilty.

A twenty-two year old college student, Jason Perry had taken on landscaping
in the summer, waitering in the cooler temps. At the end of May it seemed
like June, so he didn't see anything wrong with shedding his heavier
clothing and wearing a flimsy tank top with his regular work pants. Too, he
could get a way with it, boasting a six pack on his muscled frame. Often
Jason would stop and catch some rest, while talking with the two boys.

"What's up guys?"

Wally was wondering how to open up this topic, thinking being friendly
first.

However, Tyler jumps the gun and says, "Wally has something to ask you
Jason."

Smiling, Jason kind of got the feeling this was `man-talk', saying, "Need
some advice about the `ladies' in your life?" He giggled.

It's a topic neither really discussed. Right now thought it wasn't up for
grabs, Tyler saying, "No. Wally has a question about the thing between your
legs."

"Will ya shut up, Ty?" Wally reprimanded him.

"My legs?" Jason asks, looking down between his legs, thinking he forgot to
zip up.

"Not your legs," Wally replies.

Again, Tyler opens his big, fat mouth, "Mr. A's legs." He saves Wally a lot
of words, spilling out, "Wally hit him with a dodgeball right between the
legs and..."

"I didn't hit him. I kicked it and it bounced off Philip's knee and hit
him."

"Still, you hit him, Wally!"

"Guys, guys..." Jason averts a squabble.

So, leave it to Tyler to override how it happened and jump to the
conclusion, as he perceived it, "It was hurting Mr. A so bad he squirted
all this white stuff out."

Silence prevailed, Jason thinking on it. A college student, he was much
wiser in these matters and it piqued his curiosity of how and why the two
boys caught their teacher in masturbation and how the two boys witnessed
him jerking his wad. Too, as he thought about it, it did make Jason feel
kind of horny. Trying to think how to handle this he first says, "Well if I
were you, the first thing I would do is not say anything about this to your
parents?"

Tyler left little room for Wally, saying, "But Mr. A said we should go home
and ask our fathers."

"But my dad's in the city acting," Wally says.

Tyler interjects, "And my dad... I don't feel like asking him."

Jason well knew Tyler's predicament, because he went to the church his
father preached at, so assured him, "No, you don't wan't to do that. Trust
me!"

"We do," Wally replies. "That's why we came to ask you."

"No," Wally put his two cents in, "it's because I told you to come ask
Jason!"

Laughing, Jason says, "You guys are too much."

"So what should we do Jason?" Wally inquires.

"Like I said, don't tell your parents." With inside knowledge of the
identity of `Mr. A', Jason replies to them, "Why don't you leave it up to
me and I'll take care of it?"

"Really?" Wally asks.

Tyler seconds it, "You'll do that for us so I don't have to ask my dad?"

"Sure. No problem."

With that out of the way, Wally asks, "Hey, Jason?"

"What?"

"How do you get all those ripples?"

"These?" Jason asks, holding up his tank top so the boys can count the
lines of his six-pack abs.

Tyler asks, "How can we get them?"

Jason replies, "Everybody already has them. Wait till you get older, but as
you do get older try to keep from getting fat. Once you get fat then you
have to do a lot of exercise and weight lifting to get rid of the
fat. Probably the best time to start weight training is when you get into
high school."

A little more interested, Wally stay behind as Tyler took off for
home. Tyler's family was a little more keen on a timetable than Wally's
mom. Most of the time when Wally arrived at home, his mom was out at some
Yoga class, meditation meeting, or her `shrink', of which he didn't fully
understand, other than being a doctor and doctors were for making you
`well'.

"Can you show me some weight lifting stuff, Jason?"

He really had to get his last job for the day accomplished, but at the same
time thought Wally was being cute, wanting to max out his muscles, so says,
"If you'll help me finish up here?"

The fourth grader asks, "Should I go home and change my clothes?

"No. Here. This is what we'll do," Jason said, instructing Wally to take
off his tee shirt.

While Wally divested himself of his logo white shirt, `Worthington School',
etched in thread, Jason lifted the tails of his tank top and tore it off
overhead, saying, "Here. Slip this over your head so you don't get dirty."

"Oh nice!" Wally says, putting the `muscle-man' shirt on over his own
bod. Two strange things, and he thought of these almost simultaneously,
Wally felt like a real muscle-man, clenching his arms in an upright pose
and two, he didn't mind the smell of Jason's sweat at all, in fact thinking
it kind of `sweet-smelling'!

"How do you feel? Fits okay?"

"I feel like a muscle-man like you, Jason!" Wally replies with excitement,
again holding up his arms in L shapes and flexing his small biceps. More,
Wally loved looking at Jason.

Pushing the garbage can along the street, Jason filling it with leaves, he
began to work up a sweat. However, it was not only himself he was thinking
about. His main focus was watching Jason's muscles move under his skin as
he bent over, straightened up, and as he hurled a rake full of last year's
leaves into the can, he notices more than the six pack.

"Jason?"

"Yeah?" he says, stopping a moment to wipe his brow.

"That thing."

"What thing?" Jason asks, looking down upon himself, because Wally nodded
towards him.

"Well it's wet now, but it was dry before. Do you think I'll get that
little wormy thing that goes to your bellybutton?"

In his own circles, Jason knew it was a treasure trail, but didn't refer to
it as such, generally reacting, "Everybody grows differently. Some guys are
real hairy and others are not. It's hard to say if you will ever get a
trail..." and realizing he's slipped, "I mean..."

"Is that what it's called, because it looks like a trail, Jason?" Wally
said with eagerness to know.

"Yeah," Jason replies, a smile adorning his lips, "but can you keep it a
secret and not let anybody know I was the one who told you?"

"Oh sure Jason. You're my best friend."

As they continued their work, Jason asks, "I thought Tyler was your best
friend?"

"He is, but you're my best big-guy friend."

"Thanks," Jason replied, "I would consider you one of my best friends
too...  my best `little kid' friend!"

"Really Jason?" Wally replies with renewed excitement. "Hey, you know what
Jason?"

"What's that?"

"I like wearing your shirt."

Finishing up, Jason cracks open a water, a second one for Wally, "Here. You
must be thirsty." And then for conversation, "So, you like wearing a
muscle-man's shirt, do you?"

"Can I tell you something weird Jason?"

"We're best friends. You can tell me anything Wally."

"I can't tell Tyler everything."

Agreeing, Jason says, "Yeah, Tyler does have a big mouth, but don't you
tell him I told you so!"

"I won't," Wally says, chuckling along with Jason.

"So, what's the weird thing you were going to tell me?"

Smiling back at Jason, Wally now felt it kind of embarrassing to mention.

Jason reminds him, "Remember, we're best friends. You're not going to
mention this incident with Mr. A, and you're not going to tell Tyler I said
he had a big mouth, so what's the big secret now?"

When Jason mentioned `big secret', it hit Wally with a vengeance. What was
originally on his mind sunk down into second place. However, he still
proceeds with reluctance, going back to original thoughts, "I know this is
going to sound weird but I think your sweaty shirt smells good. Is that
weird?"

Jason sat on the curb, so Wally sat next to him.

"I guess it's my turn to tell a secret?"

"You have some?" Wally asks, with truthfulness.

"More than one," Jason replies, "but about the scent of my shirt, you know
sometimes after I've worked all day, I'll take my own smelly shirt and
sniff it?"

"Really? You like the smell of you too?"

The way Jason took it, Wally was liking the smell of his sweat, but
answering his question, "Yeah and it's something we have to keep a secret,
because a lot of people would think we're kooks!"

It made Wally laugh out loud, Jason doing the same.

Forgetting he was talking with a fourth-grader, Jason says, "Wanna hear
something even weirder?"

"What?" Wally looks up to Jason as if it were his father giving advice.

"I even smell my underwear."

"You what?" Wally replies, his jaw hanging open.

"I probably shouldn't have said anything but I do," Jason says, blushing a
little.

"Oh, I'm not gonna say anything. We're friends now. Jason?"

"What?" Jason asks, thinking he's going to get another question about his
cock-and-balls-scented briefs.

"I wish I had a brother like you."

"You would make a nice little brother too, especially because... well that
doesn't matter," Jason replies with solemnness.

"Did something happen to your little brother?" Wally detects sadness.

Something did, but it wasn't only his brother's involvement, but his whole
family. Not wanting to burden Wally with the reason behind it all, just yet
at least, he brightened up his attitude and replies, "He was just so
unhappy that I left home and went off to college!" With that, Jason jumps
to his feet and adds, "And I need to get the truck back to the yard before
they think I ran off with it!"

Noticing once again the little `trail', now that Wally knew what it was
called, dividing Jason's stomach and running what looked like right into
his bellybutton and out the underside, he asks, "Now that we're friends,
can I touch that?"

Ready to do it, Jason grabs onto Wally's hand, just as his fingers are
about to make contact and says, "No!" His reply was stern, both in action
and word.

"Sorry," Wally almost pouts back to Jason.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your hand," Jason speaks with calm.

"You didn't." Then, as if Wally really felt it, "I guess I wasn't supposed
to do that, was I Jason?"

"Every man should be protective of their own self, except to shake
somebody's hand when you greet them," Jason explained, and with a sense of
fulfillment in the manner in which he approached it.

"Jason?"

"Yeah?" Jason replies, sliding the bolt at the back of the truck and
flinging the tarp over it.

"When you asked before and I told you I liked the smell of your shirt?"

"What of it?" he asks, tying a rope to the frame of the truck.

"I have something I'm afraid to tell my mom and dad, but can I tell you?"

Joking, Jason replies, "You robbed a bank?"

"No," Wally says.

Seeing Wally serious and he might have made a miscall of character, Jason
bows on one knee and says, "We're friends. What I tell you stays with you
and what you tell me I won't tell anyone else. Unless you want me to."

Taking the biggest step in his life as a fourth-grader, possibly his whole
life, and showing trust for someone whom he has never deeply trusted before
in his life, Wally takes a deep, deep breath and says, "I don't think I
like girls."

An interval of time stood still for moment for the two, Jason thinking,
`Damn, is he saying he's gay?' He wasn't an authority on everything, so
brushes it off as, "Of course you don't. Guys your age are kind of in the
mid-stages of life. Forget it for now though, because when you hit junior
high school you'll be..."

"No!" Wally cut him off, like telling Jason he was `wrong'.

Caught off guard, the twenty-two year old says, "No?"

"Jason," Wally stutters, "I don't know if this is right, but I kind of
don't like girls because.... I think I like boys more?" With saying, Wally
backed off as if he was going to get smacked for saying it.

Instead Jason smiled.

"You're not mad at me?" Wally asks.

Then, referring to `before', Jason says, "No, because that's the reason my
family is mad at me. And... because I don't want you to get the wrong idea
that it is `wrong' or think people will not like you just the same," Jason
pools all the reasons together from his own family experience, "and think
of something foolish like run off..."

With a big look of exclamation on his face, Wally asks, "Is that what you
did Jason? You runned off away from home?" It took awhile for Wally to sort
things out in his mind, thinking about Jason's family being mad at him and
then the reason, "You you don't like girls and you like boys, too?"

Stooping down to Wally's level, Jason says, "It's called being a
homosexual... I like to be called `gay', but a lot of people will call us
queers."

"What does it all mean?" Wally asks.

"It's all the same," for now, because Jason was in a hurry, "but what
matters right now Wally, is we both keep our ends of the bargain."

"What bargain?" Wally asked with a sense of knowing, but also excitement,
because he and Jason now had this new bond between them.

"We both don't like girls, but like boys. Some people will not like it that
we are different. I could lose my job and I don't mean to scare you, but it
could give you trouble in school with your mates, if they knew you didn't
like girls, liked boys instead. So you have to really swear not to say
anything and if you do, it's only between you and me. Understand?"

Because Jason was saying this so sternly, like something his mom would warn
him to do or not to do, he replies, "Cross my heart and hope to die," he
crosses his heart!

"You don't have to go that far. Just don't tell anyone."

Understanding, Wally now jokes, "Not even big-mouth Tyler?"

Knowing he's kidding, Jason replies, "`Especially not' big-mouth Tyler!"

And neither of them mentioned what was passed that day, onto anyone, at
least for the time being.

%

Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee

`THe FoiLs of FLeTcH VaN DaM' may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.

The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!
TCMcP.....