Date: Mon, 27 Feb 2012 00:43:10 -0500 (EST)
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Opposite Dads

			       OPPOSITE DADS
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

BRAD:

     As I walked out the door, I saw Kyle in his back yard. The geek was
trying to practice batting a baseball. Missing every time he threw the ball
up into the air, because he couldn't handle the bat even with plenty of
time to get it into position; he'd rest the bat on his shoulder instead of
holding it just above his shoulder like you're supposed to. I watched him
swing and only hit air three or four times before I went to the point where
the hedges weren't totally together and squeezed through. "Hey, Kyle." I
said.
     "Hey, Brad." he returned.
     "Practicing your softball?"
     "Yeah. Dad wanted me to try out for the team this year." Kyle said
with a grimace. "Said it'll build teamwork."
     "I'll pitch and catch for you." I offered. We had our family's garage
for a backstop for any balls he managed to connect with. Dad didn't like it
when people knocked stuff into the walls, but I didn't think Kyle would hit
much. And for those he missed, there was a low planter covering most of the
strike zone. I figured that planter would get more of a workout than the
garage! And I was right.
     Out of the first six pitches I gave him, he missed four of them and
the two he did hit were both pop flies. I ran under them easily, caught
them without letting them touch the ground.
     "Nice catch, Brad." said Mr. Lollard. That was Kyle's dad. He came out
when he heard our voices, I guess. Looking at Mr. Lollard, it was hard to
see how Kyle was his son, they were so opposite from each other. Oh, they
both had the same shade of brown hair and the same sort of face, I don't
mean that. I mean that Mr. Lollard was the coach for another school in
town, he taught sports and watched sports and loved going fly-fishing and
all kinds of physical activities. And Kyle was strictly a bookworm. He
liked reading books, even history and science books, and he was in the
chess club, the only fourth-grader in the club, and collected stamps. You
know, a bookworm, the opposite of his athletic father. How did a P.E. coach
and popular guy around school like Mr. Lollard ever have a kid like him?
Mr. Lollard was big and strong and filled out his school football
sweatshirt like it was meant to be fitted for him. And the thought of those
big arms tucking me in bed at night made my stomach quiver all funny-like.
     "Thanks, Mr. Lollard."
     "You playing softball this spring?"
     "Sure!" I said. "My school started teams last week. At the last
second, I could have bitten my tongue. Kyle wasn't going to be on the team,
he had tried out and failed. And I could tell Kyle hadn't told his Dad yet
about that. It must be hard, being a geek kid of an athletic dad.
     Of course, didn't the same thing apply to me, in reverse? I liked
sports just fine and would love to go fishing with Mr. Lollard if I could
figure out how to ask him to take me. Kyle got to fish a lot, not that he
liked it. My few conversations with him on the subject had taught me that.
     But my Dad...well, you know my Dad. And like the thought made him
appear out of thin air, here he came!

				 * * * * *

KYLE:

     Jeez, I was trying to work up my courage to talk to Dad about this
weekend and not only did I have Brad here in the back yard with me when he
got home, he'd just seen Brad make me look like a fool at softball! Brad
had caught my second hit smooth as if I'd hit it right to him, like I'd
planned to lob it nearly straight up and right into his glove.
     And there was Dad, staring at Brad as if Brad were the coolest kid on
Earth! Like he wished Brad were his son. I knew he felt that way.
     "Here you are, Brad." Mr. Halliwell said as he squeezed through the
gap in the hedge that Brad had come through. Mr. Halliwell taught
mathematics at the same school as my Dad (the schools had a policy that
children couldn't attend the same schools where their parents taught, Dad
had taken this house because it was just outside his school's district
limits. I guess Mr. Halliwell had done the same. "I was looking for
you. You need to go over your math homework, I checked it and you missed
four out of the twelve problems."
     "Aw, Dad!" Brad whined. "Can you at least tell me which four are
wrong?"
     "That wouldn't be fair to the other children." Mr. Halliwell said. I
liked him for that. Mr. Halliwell wasn't this swell-armed muscle-bound guy
like my Dad, he was somehow smaller, and gentler and kinder. I don't mean
Dad mistreated me, but he thought if you hurt yourself, you should shake it
off and keep going. Where if Mr. Halliwell was your father, he'd sit you
down and tell you it wasn't so bad and put iodine and a Band-Aid on your
scrape and kiss it and make it all better. Dad never did that, not even
when there was actual blood pouring out and Dad expected me to "be a man"
and put on my own Band-aids if I needed one. Mr. Halliwell was blond haired
like Brad and had a face that was sharp-featured with sharp, alert eyes and
a forehead that stuck out a bit over his eyes, made him look intelligent
and clever and wise. Even at home, he wore his brown suit, only
substituting a lighter-brown jacket for the darker one that went with the
pants. And some older shoes, still dress shoes but older and more worn,
substituted for the fine ones he wore in front of his students. Whereas my
Dad looked like a blue-collar beer-guzzler with his sweats and old, stained
sneakers.
     I saw my chance to get a little back on Brad. "I could look at them
for you." I offered. "Nothing unfair about another student helping you
out?"
     "Hey, great!" Brad said. "I help you practice softball and you help me
pass math."
     "That would be very nice." Mr. Halliwell said. "Thank you, Kyle."
     And the look on his face made me warm; it was the same smile that my
Dad had turned on Brad. Dad may wish Brad Halliwell was his son instead of
me, but Mr. Halliwell wished I was his son instead of Brad!
     "Are you competing at the chess tournament this weekend, Kyle?"
Mr. Halliwell asked.
     I looked at Dad quickly and said. "I can't, sir."
     "Why not?"
     "I'm going fishing with Dad this weekend." I said, managed a
smile. "There'll be other chess tournaments."
     "But this is the regional finals!" Mr. Halliwell protested. "You won
the last three tournaments, if you forfeit now, you could miss out on the
state championship. You'd be the youngest chess player to win the state
championship. Not to mention the national tournament this summer! I'm
counselor for my school's team, but I recognize true talent even when it's
on another team. I want to see you compete Kyle!"
     "But Dad wants us to go fishing." I protested sadly, reluctantly.
     "The trout have just come out of hibernation and will be striking like
crazy." my Dad affirmed. "You'll never catch fish any quicker or easier
than you will this weekend. That's a once-a-year event like your chess
tournament, you know."
     "Sounds great." Brad said wistfully.
     I looked at Brad staring at Dad, at Dad staring at Brad, at
Mr. Halliwell staring at me, and I suggested, "Why don't you take Brad
fishing instead of me, Dad? Then I could go with Mr. Halliwell to the
tournament!"
     "That'd be great!" Brad said quickly, eagerly.
     Dad looked at Mr. Halliwell. "You wouldn't mind me borrowing Brad for
the weekend?"
     "I was taking Brad with me to the tournament." Mr. Halliwell said. "If
Brad goes with you, I'll have room for him in my car. He can stay with me
in my room at the tournament."
     Dad looked at Brad, at the athletic, graceful boy like he'd always
wanted me to be, and said, "Well, Kyle, if you're sure you don't mind
missing out on a weekend with your old man...."
     "I don't mind." I said, a bit too quickly. Regional tournament, here I
come!

				 * * * * *

BRAD:

     Man, a whole weekend fishing! Wonderful, great, terrific, especially
When you realize I had planned on spending the weekend with my Dad, sitting
in a motel room watching television while he and a bunch of geeks spent
their time playing "rook takes pawn" instead! Dad had tried to teach me the
game, and I knew how to play, kind of, but I just didn't get into it the
way he did. I mean, that whole memorizing opening gambits and studying
games of the past chess masters, that way.
     But with Mr. Lollard, my weekend was going to be the polar opposite of
that. I borrowed Kyle's fishing gear and also his wading boots, they were
two sizes too big for him and fit me perfectly. His fishing vest over an
old shirt and a pair of worn out blue jeans and I was ready to fish!
     Talking with my own Dad was like talking with a stranger. Not that Dad
didn't care for me, or that he didn't try, but it was like we were just not
interested in anything the other was.
     But with Mr. Lollard, we were talking like old buddies inside of ten
minutes on the drive up and laughing and talking and cracking jokes the
entire ride. The place he took us to was terrific, I mean, a nice-sized
mountain stream just right to wade out in and cast your lines where the
fish were thickest, surrounded by pine trees and the smell of fresh, green
grass. Spring had just come to the place and the air was thick with the
smell of wildflowers and fresh life everywhere.
     Mr. Lollard had brought a tent to camp out in, and I showed my
Scouting skills by setting up the campfire pit, it was cool enough still to
make us want to build a fire soon as the sun went down. Mr. Lollard had
brought plenty of groceries, but made it clear that this evening was the
only meal (not counting breakfast) where we'd eat anything but fish we
caught, well, fish along with some stuff to go with it. "A true fisherman
lives off his catches." he proclaimed. "Think you can catch your stomach
full, Brad?"
     "Yes, sir, Mr. Lollard!" I said eagerly.
     "Please, call me Dave." Mr. Lollard said. "Long as we're up here, we
might as well be friends."
     "All right...Dave." I said, grinning up at him. This was going to be
the best weekend ever!

				 * * * * *

KYLE:

     The regionals! Man, this was the life. And me with Mr. Halliwell, a
dignified, scholarly man who shepherded me along with the three members of
his own chess club (only one was participating, each school only got one or
two, and I'd been the one who qualified from my own school), and helped me
sign in and generally took charge of me. Then we had lunch at a restaurant
next to the tournament, a really nice one. I ate some things I'd never had
before, and I ate it with Mr. Halliwell, who understood French and ordered
for us both and it was all great! With Dad, the only French item on the
menu was the French fries! Watching Mr. Halliwell showed me which fork to
use and how to handle the snails we ate (and they were GOOD!), and we
topped off a rather light lunch with an eclair that was sheer chocolate
heaven!
     The afternoon I had my first chess game against a teenager from a big
school. He sneered while I made my first moves, but by the tenth move, his
smirk was gone and in place was something very much like fright. He
muttered something about another young Bobby Fischer, and I beamed when I
heard that, but didn't let it put me off my game. He tipped over his king
at the forty-second move, surrendering and Mr. Halliwell was there to help
me celebrate!
     The second set of games was that same evening, so the tournament
continued after a break for a light supper (Mr. Halliwell insisted I eat
light to help keep my wits about me, promising to buy me a snack of
anything I wanted, win or lose, when the game was over). I played against
Mr. Halliwell's own school champ at that game, and after a few nervous
glances at him, took his encouragement to play my best. Mr. Halliwell
managed to cheer us both on at once, and when I beat his player at the
twenty-fifth move (not a good showing at all), he managed to be gently
sympathetic to her while he said words of praise to me.
     I was back at that French restaurant (anything I wanted, remember?),
having my promised after-tournament snack of another one of those excellent
eclairs, and I said, "What do we do now, Mr. Halliwell? Your team is out
(the regional was one-loss-loses-all, not like the state and nationals
which would be a series of games), so do we have to go back now?"
     Mr. Halliwell smiled. "Grace came up here with her teammates and one
of their parents. They'll see she gets home safe."
     "But you're their coach."
     "Yes." he smiled. "But you need me more."
     "Thanks, Mr. Halliwell."
     "Call me Edmund." he said. "Eddie, if you like. After all, you and I
are friends here."
     "Yeah, friends." I beamed at that. This was turning out to be a
terrific weekend!"

				 * * * * *

BRAD:

     When nighttime came, I made the fire without matches, just to show
Dave I could, and he grinned as the fire started up just with the
stick-and-bow I'd made. Blowing on the embers to bring them into a full
fire, I fed the small sticks into it and then bigger ones. "And there's the
fire." I said at last in triumph.
     "Hey, that's great, Brad! Really great! You're a natural-born
woodsman."
     "I learned it in the Scouts." I said.
     "I wish Kyle was in the Scouts."
     I grinned, shrugged. "He tried. He had the book stuff down pat, but
the stuff you did out in the wilderness...." I shrugged again. "Everyone
laughed at him, made fun of him. I don't blame him for quitting."
     "I know." Dave sighed. "I wish Kyle was more interested in physical
activities. Even a little would be nice. I just don't know how to talk to
him. I try but it's like talking to a brick wall. I wish Kyle was
more...more...."
     "More like me?"
     "Yeah." Dave admitted. "Does that make me a bad father?"
     "I don't think so." I said. My Dad's the same way with me, only in
opposite. I bet Kyle's having a lot more fun with him than I ever would. I
know I'm having more fun with you than I would have had at that dumb chess
tournament."
     "You think chess is dumb, too, huh?" Dave grinned.
     I grinned back. "Yeah. Real dumb."
     Dave threw back his head and laughed. "Let's get to bed. We want to
get up early to catch those fish for our lunch. Especially if we want to
take some back with us for Kyle and your father to eat, too."
     "Yeah." I said. The tent was awful small, barely enough for two
sleeping bags, but that would just help us stay warmer.

				 * * * * *

KYLE:

     Watching both me and his own team meant that Mr. Halliwell (Eddie) and
I were seeing our room for the first time when we got back to the hotel at
nearly ten o'clock at night. It was a very nice hotel, and they'd put away
our clothes for us and all. But the room....
     Eddie got right on the phone downstairs. "I paid for a room with two
beds." he complained to the downstairs clerk. "There's only one bed up
here."
     "It's a big bed." I pointed out.
     "Don't you have another room you can give us?" Eddie listened, the
answer was obviously no. "What about another bed?" Pause. "No, I don't want
a cot or a rollaway bed, my protege is in a tournament and needs a good
night's sleep. No I don't want one for myself, my back wouldn't take it and
I need my sleep, too. I booked this hotel because I thought it took care of
its clientele...."
     I put my hand on his arm. "It's okay, Eddie." I said. "We can share
the bed. It's only for a couple of nights." Maybe, that is, if I didn't
wash out tomorrow in the next rounds. Four of them tomorrow. Four more on
Monday if I was still in the game by that time.
     "Well...all right, if you really don't have any more rooms." Eddie
said grudgingly, and after a bit more of that, hung up. "They're giving me
the room for half price, and a hundred-dollar credit on room service."
     "What's that, a soda and a candy bar." I joked. I'd looked at the
prices, that hundred dollars was actually about twelve dollars if you'd
bought the stuff outside the hotel.
     "Maybe two candy bars." Eddie laughed with me. "You'd better hurry up
and get in bed. You have four rounds to play and win tomorrow, you know and
four more on Monday."
     "Yeah." I said and Eddie went into the bathroom and I began to undress
for bed.

				 * * * * *

BRAD:

     Dave looked at me when he saw I was only wearing my briefs to
bed. "Aren't you going to put on some pajamas or something?" He asked.
     "Naw." I said. "Pajamas are something my Dad wears, but I
don't. Actually, when I'm in bed, I usually sleep bare nekkid."
     Dave laughed. "You know what, Brad? So do I."
     "Only natural." I put in.
     "That's what I think." Dave agreed. "At least sleep the way Nature
intended. And to tell the truth, when I wear sweats, I usually go
commando."
     I thought I saw a waggle down there yesterday after school." I
chuckled. "Can we zip our sleeping bags together? You know, to keep warm."
     "Well...sure, why not." Dave said. "You know, when Kyle's using that
sleeping bag, he wears a full set of pajamas and scoots as far over to the
edge as he can get."
     "Not me." I said. "The closer we are, the warmer we'll be."
     And while Dave was struggling out of the sweat pants he was intending
to sleep in, to be in his own briefs for sleeping, I softly slipped out of
my own.
     If Dave was my friend, like he said he was, we were going to do what
friends do in bed at night, if I had my way. I'd always wanted to play with
a grown man's cock like I did kids my own age.


				 * * * * *

KYLE:

     Eddie came out of the bathroom wearing a full set of pajamas. "You
wear pajamas, too?" I asked him.
     "Sure." he said, "Don't you?"
     "Normally." I said. "But I just forgot to pack them. So I guess I'm
sleeping in just my underwear tonight. Is that okay?"
     "Sure." Eddie agreed. "But are you going to be comfortable in just
your briefs?"
     "I guess so." I said, shrugging. "But normally, when I put on my
pajamas, I take off my briefs. I tried wearing them, but it's like they
bunch up on me when I turn in bed."
     "Oh." Eddie smiled. "I have the same problem."
     "You're not wearing anything under your pajamas?"
     "Never have." Eddie agreed.
     I laughed at that. "It's easier when your clothes don't squeeze you
while you sleep, isn't it?"
     "Yeah." Eddie paused. "If you think your briefs are going to bother
you while you sleep, maybe you should just sleep bare. I mean, you need a
good night's sleep for tomorrow."
     "Maybe I should." I said. "But it'd be funny, me lying naked in bed
and you with pajamas."
     Eddie hesitated. "Sometimes I sleep without anything on, on hot
nights, I mean."
     "It's kind of warm in here, isn't it?"
     "Warmer than I'm used to."
     "So why don't you take those pajamas off, then." I said. "It'll be
more comfortable for both of us that way."
     "Maybe it will." Eddie said.
     I skinned off my briefs and bounced onto the bed, ended up in a
kneeling position in the center, my hands on my knees. "Come on, then, get
in bed."
     And Eddie's hands went to his pajama top's buttons and he smiled
shyly, as his eyes roamed over my nude body, taking it all in.

				 * * * * *

BRAD:

     Dave shifted quite a while after he got under the covers, and I waited
until he had settled in to snuggle over next to him. When my hand went up
to his hips, I got a surprise. "You're bare naked!" I gasped.
     Dave was about to turn out the light and he looked embarrassed. "You
weren't supposed to notice. Truthfully, I can't sleep if I'm wearing any
clothes. But I'll put my briefs back on for you."
     I got hold of his prick about then and he gasped. "Why would you want
to do that?" I felt his cock stiffen in my hand and I began to pump on it.
     "Oh...no reason, I guess." Dave groaned.

				 * * * * *

KYLE:

     When Eddie was completely naked, I goggled at the shaft he was
sporting. "Wow!" I gasped. "It's so big."
     Eddie smiled and said, "The king is always the biggest piece on the
board." He said. "Capturing it is the entire point of the game."
     I grinned at the chess metaphor he was using. "I guess I'd better try
an opening gambit then, hadn't I?"
     "Think about your move carefully." he reminded me. "When you move it,
you're committed to the gambit."
     "I'll try something standard. How about this?" I said as I reached out
and grasped his dong. "Then I'll follow up with this." And I began to
stroke his pud.
     "My response would have to be an aggressive counterattack." Eddie
gasped and he grabbed my own pud in his fingers.
     I moaned and kind of fell over on the bed, so that I ended up with my
head closest to Eddie. His hard prick was right above me.
     And Eddie looked at me there and then at my dick in his hand, and he
leaned over and I moaned as his lips wrapped around my cock and I felt that
hot warmth surrounding and covering and then his lips contracted and he
began to pump me with his mouth instead of his hand.
     Well, two could play that game.

				 * * * * *

BRAD:

     I jerked on Dave's prong for a time and he moaned, "Here, Brad, crawl
out of the bedroll, okay?"
     "Sure." I said, "But why?"
     "Trust me." Dave said. He had me get on all fours with my back to him,
and I wondered what he wanted.
     Then I felt his tongue on me. Right between my butt cheeks, his tongue
working itself into my butthole! "Oh, ooh, ooh, oh!" I groaned. "Oh, Dave,
that feels so good!"
     His hand found my prod while he licked my anus and that felt even
better! I felt my rectum get all sticky and gooey, he was pushing a lot of
his spit into it, it felt like. Then he lubed up his finger and began to
worm that into me. "Ooh, yeah, Dave, ohh, that feels good."
     "It's going to feel even better in a minute, Brad." Dave said. "That
is, if you trust me enough. Do you?"
     "Yeah, Dave." I muttered. "I trust you. Whatever you want, just do it,
okay, just do it!"

				 * * * * *

KYLE:

     I felt Eddie shudder as his cock went into my mouth, and I sucked on
it like it was a big piece of hard candy or something.
     Then his hands caught hold of my head, holding it still and with him
standing over me, my head bent back so it was upside down, hanging off the
bed, and Eddie began to fuck at my face, driving his dong into me. His
pants and moans were heavy, guttural, almost animal, so unlike the gentle
man who had brought me here. And somehow, that was just right, it meant
that I had awakened this within him, and when it was done, he'd be that
gentle, kind man once again.
     But now, this time, this moment, was given over to the raw, unfettered
pursuit of pleasure. When his hand released my head and caught hold of my
cock again, I began to hunch up against his hand, fucking his hand like he
was fucking my mouth.
     And Eddie stopped fucking my face, panted hard, and bent over and
sucked my cock into his mouth. Now he let me control my own actions and we
slid our mouths up and down each other's cocks, giving each other pleasure
rather than taking it.
     God, this was so good. I wanted to do this all weekend long. Better
than chess, better than anything, just lying here and sucking Eddie's cock
as he sucked mine.
     And Eddie began to groan louder and louder. I wasn't sure why, but I
felt sure something big was about to happen.

				 * * * * *

BRAD:

     I wasn't sure what Dave was going to do, even when he stopped and I
heard him hawking into his hand. His fingers continued to fiddle with my
butthole, though.
     And then I felt it. Dave's cock, big, fat, thick, was pushing against
my asshole, pushing it, pushing...pushing into me. I felt the glans worm
its way through my sphincter and I just moaned, laid my head on the bedroll
and loved the feel of Dave's dong working its way inside me.
     It took quite a while, Dave was being gentle as he could though I
could tell that he was so turned on, it was tough for him to keep from just
ramming it inside. Then the glans pushed hard against me, my asshole gave a
bit of a pop and Dave's cockhead slipped inside me. After that, it was
easier, slowly his length pushed into me, deeper, deeper, and finally I
felt the tickle of his pubic hairs on my butt as he got the last inch or so
inside.
     "Oh, oh, oh, oh!" Dave panted as he held still, let my bowels
adjust. "You like that, Brad. Do you like having my cock up your ass?"
     "Yeah, oh, yeah, yeah!" I groaned. "That feels so good!"
     "It'll feel even better when I start doing this!" And Dave began to
fuck my butt. Actually fucking me, I knew about it from my talks with older
kids, at least in general, but I never knew it would feel like this, so
absolutely great! To have this big strong man, this man that was everything
my own father wasn't, and now he was fucking my ass. Oh, God, I wanted this
moment to last forever! To hell with fishing, I wanted to spend the rest of
this weekend being fucked by Dave!
     And Dave moaned, softly at first, then louder and louder, and I knew
then what was about to happen.

				 * * * * *

KYLE:

     Eddie moaned real loud, and then a heavy, hot load of salty, sticky
stuff poured into my mouth. I gulped it down because it was Eddie's and I
wanted Eddie every way I could get him. So as he squirted his stuff out, I
drank it down, every last drop. At last, Eddie finished, panted hard, and
then his mouth worked my own prick hard and fast. Like he wanted to make me
feel what he did, and it was feeling really nice. There was a tingle that
built up and up and then I was gasping a lot like Eddie, only nothing came
out of my dick at all but I felt so really, really good and then it was
over and I was panting a lot like Eddie had.
     Eddie must have felt that was enough, for he picked me up and laid me
back down on the bed, the right way this time with my head on the pillow,
and then he crawled in beside me and held me tight. One hand snaked over
and turned off the light.
     "Go to sleep, my hot little chess champ." he murmured in my ear. "You
have a tournament tomorrow to win."
     "Okay." I said and, safe in Eddie's arms, I went to sleep.

				 * * * * *

BRAD:

     When Dave groaned extra loud, his cock got hard as I'd ever felt and
then I felt a rush of salty, stinging goo squirting into my butt. I knew
what this was, I'd been told about it, this was "come" and it meant that
Dave was feeling extra, extra good right then. "Of course, you're too young
to feel it," the older boys had told me. "But it's just the best feeling in
the world."
     So I knew that Dave was feeling wonderful, and that knowledge made my
own cock suddenly surge and tingle like mad, and I groaned, right along
with Dave, and as he filled my butt full of hot man jizz. His arms came
down and wrapped around my body and he held me so tight as he finished
squirting inside me. Our gasps and groans subsided together and then he was
rubbing my chest with his hands all weak and almost sleepy-like, and then
he said, "God, Brad, that was great!"
     "It sure was!" I said. "Let's go it again! Okay?"
     Dave laughed, a tired laugh. "In a little while. I promise. I got to
rest a while before I can go again."
     "Then I guess we'd better sleep a little." I said. "We got to catch
our lunch tomorrow morning bright and early, remember?"
     "Yeah." Dave said. "I remember."
     We got both back into our sleeping bag and Dave wrapped his arms
around me. "You know." I said. "I like fishing, it's fun. But I know
something I'd like to do more. If you don't mind."
     Dave grinned. "I know just what you mean. Let's see what happens,
okay?"
     "Okay." I said and, safe in Dave's arms, I went to sleep.

				 * * * * *

KYLE:

     The chess tournament was great. I won the first game, but lost the
second, so at two o'clock Sunday afternoon, my involvement in the
tournament was over. Eddie was practical. "Don't let it get you down." He
said to me. "You won three games against the best players in the
region. That's amazing for someone your age."
     "I know." I said. "Actually, this means we can go back to the hotel
room, doesn't it?"
     "Yeah." Eddie agreed. "I think we can keep things going until we head
back tomorrow."
     "Tomorrow?" I said. "Can't we stay until Monday night?"
     "We'll see." Eddie said.
     We actually stayed Sunday night, but Eddie insisted on starting back
about noon on Monday. We made it back home near sundown on Monday. Dave and
Brad were already there.
     "What can we do?" I asked as I sat in the car, not wanting to get
out. "I want us to do it again, soon as we can."
     "Just slip over to my house when your father goes to sleep." Eddie
said. "I can wake you up early and you slip back. Nobody will have to
know."
     "Okay." I grinned. "See you tonight."
     "Let's get you back to your Dad."
     We shared dinner, Dad and me, with Brad and Eddie. I noticed Brad and
my father were on a first-name basis, so I called Eddie that and Dad just
smiled.
     And Dad just nodded when I said I wanted to turn in early. It was easy
enough to wait a short time, slip out my window and over to Eddie's
house. He had left the back door open just as he'd said. And his bedroom
was the first door on the left through the hallway just as he'd said.

				 * * * * *

BRAD:

     Eddie and Kyle were acting awful chummy, I noticed, when we ate
dinner. And Dad wanted to go to bed early, complaining he couldn't sleep
well in a strange bed. That suited me. I was going to slip over to Dave's
house as soon as I could.
     I heard noise in Dave's back yard when I got into my own back
yard. That was odd, Dave said he'd leave the back door unlocked for me, but
this was round to one side, not at his back door.
     I watched as I saw Kyle slip over to our house and open our back
door. Then a bit later, the light went on in Dad's room. I slipped over and
peered in Dad's window. Watched a while.
     Then I went over to Dave's house. Dave was waiting in the kitchen
there like he'd said he would, and after he kissed me, he said, "We'll have
to be quiet. Kyle's upstairs asleep."
     "I don't think we have to worry about Kyle." I said. "Or Dad,
either. Come on, let's go upstairs and we can make all the noise we want."
     And I pulled him by the hand as I led him to his bedroom. Tomorrow,
the four of us would have a long talk, all about how we two pairs of
opposites had managed to match everything up after all.

                             THE END
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