Date: Mon, 02 Oct 2023 11:29:20 +0000 From: jacklynch945 Subject: The Prince The Pauper And the Chief Chapter 12 Can you imagine life without Nifty? Please show your support with contributions to keep the Archive online. You can find out how at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html This story includes episodes involving underage minors having sex with adults. I expressly condemn this kind of activity. I have made every attempt to present these acts in a thoughtful, sensitive manner. You may not agree. If so, I encourage to avoid reading it. This story mentions real people, real places, and real events, but the characters and the story are entirely fictional. It contains descriptions of sexual interactions between minors and adult men. Your feedback, whether in the form of comments or constructive criticism, will always be welcome. Please email me: jacklynch945@proton.me. The Prince. The Pauper. And the Chief. By Jack Lynch Chapter 12. Same. Snapping the lock closed, securing his bike to the bike stand. Kip stood up straight, shook the hair out of his eyes, and grabbed the bag lunch his mom had prepared for him. When he opened the refrigerator door earlier in the day, he smiled when he saw the big bag with his name scribbled on it. Two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a bologna sandwich, pickles wrapped in a napkin, a bag of chips, two Chips Ahoy cookies, and a can of Tab. His mother, probably out of guilt, had gone overboard after his meltdown the night before. She'd prepared the feast early that morning, long before Kip woke up. Gone before 6:00 am for her other job, serving breakfast and lunch at the Black Dog Tavern in Vineyard Haven. One hand on the bottom so the bag wouldn't break through, the other hand gripping the top, he walked into the Edgartown Paper Store. Going to the back corner by the pharmacy, he stored the bag on a shelf reserved for that kind of thing. Trent gave him a big smile as he worked on a prescription. It was just before one o'clock. A warm and sunny beautiful late June day. Kip had a lot of mixed up feelings. Dread, anticipation, fear, expectation. He walked up Water Street, his stomach feeling sort of like it had flipped over. He thought he might toss his cookies right then and there. Past the galleries and shops, the Shiretown Inn, and Kelly House. Groups of people crowded the sidewalk in front of the Edgartown Inn, desperate to get a table for lunch. After the Inn, on the left, the Carnegie Library. Colonial brick style, arched windows on either side of the columned double door entrance, classic New England style architecture. A rather large front yard, towering elm tree on the left, a much younger silver maple on the right side of the property. Benches lined the cobble stoned walk up to the entrance. A black iron fence ran along the front, a tall manicured hedge behind it. The benches were all occupied, one woman reading a picture book to a small boy. Older people quietly conversed, one man sitting by himself, immersed in a book. A couple of small children played tag, girls squealing in delight as they ran around in circles after each other. Kip looked around and smirked. He wasn't there. Probably wasn't going to show up, either. What a prick! The Prince had lazed around the house most of the morning. Not really knowing what to do. As one o'clock approached, he felt increasingly unsettled. A bout of diarrhea failed to make him feel much better. "Mom! I'm going to the library," Prince yelled as he swung the front door open. Out by the swimming pool laying on a chaise lounge, Ronni Prince turned her head, a quizzical look on her face. Never in his young life had Wells uttered those words. Sure, he was smart as a whip, a straight "A" student at Greenwich Country Day. But, he wasn't a brainiac. This was, well, unusual. She shrugged her shoulders, turning back to an article in the latest Vineyard Gazette. Walking quickly at first with purpose, slowing to a crawl, unsure if he should continue. It was just a couple of blocks. Before he could decide what to do, he was there. Turning right onto the library's cobblestone walkway, Prince saw him, just standing there, off to the side. Kip saw him first. At least, the top of his head, skimming along the hedge bordering the library. He knew it was him. The same light blond hair as his. Prince walked up to him. Kip looked right into his eyes. Easy to do. They were exactly the same size. They stared at each other for a long time, daring each other to make the first move. "Over there." Prince jerked his head toward a vacant spot on the lawn to his right. They walked over and sat down, both cross legged, all the while staring at each other. So weird, Kip thought! "Show me your face," Prince commanded. "You can see my face, nerd!" "No. I mean pull your hair back. I want to see your whole face." Kip smirked. But he complied. Placing one palm flat on his forehead, he pushed the hair off of his forehead, holding it on top of his head. The Prince was now sure of it. That was his face. The same almost invisible eyebrows, bright blue, almond shaped eyes. He leaned into look more closely. He had some dark spots in his eyes, too. Just like his. Pug nose, thin lips. Everything stopped for a moment. Kip tried to look tough but, he couldn't help it. A smile slowly crept onto his face. The dimple on his right cheek, now visible, the crooked canine on the left side. Prince knew that dimple. That was his dimple! Kip returned his hand to the ground. "What's your name?" "Prince." "What kind of a name is that?" "Well, it's Wellington Abraham Prince, but everyone calls me Prince." Kip threw his head back and laughed. "That's spaz!" The Prince huffed. "What's your name, dork?" "Kip Kincaid." Prince tried to think of something insulting. Nothing came to mind. "Where are you from?" "Here. I mean, Oak Bluffs. You?" "Connecticut." "How old are you?" "Twelve." Kip started to feel even weirder. "Me too," he murmured. "When's your birthday?" Prince had asked the question, but he was almost afraid to hear the answer. "May twenty-fifth." Prince's eyes widened in shock. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. The look on his face told it all. Kip didn't need to ask the same question. The answer was obvious. There was a pause as each one looked the other one over, slowly and very carefully. "Innie or outie?" Prince asked quietly. Looking down at his faded Edgartown Boys Club t-shirt, Kip gazed back at Prince. He wore an expensive looking Izod polo in a fashionable deep purple. He quickly pulled the bottom of his t-shirt up to expose his innie belly button. "Me, too," Prince said. He didn't bother showing Kip. They both knew. A thought suddenly came to Kip. I know! This is a clincher! "Take your right shoe off," he said. The Prince smirked. "Why?" "Just do it!" Prince shrugged, kicking his right Topsider off. He wasn't wearing socks. "Let me see the bottom of your foot," Kip commanded. Prince stretched his right leg up, sticking his foot almost in Kip's face. There it was. Totally unique. A dark brown birth mark right in the middle of the bottom of his foot. Like someone had splattered paint on it. "Your turn," Prince said firmly. Kip pulled his sneaker off, grabbed his sock, pulling if off, too. Silently, he stuck his leg out at Prince, slightly lifting his foot off the ground. The exact same birth mark. They sat and looked at each other. Mirror images. Both with their right legs stretched out toward each other, the left knee bent, leaning back, supported by outstretched arms. "Look, Mommy! Twins!" A little girl, probably about four years old, wearing a smock dress and Mary Janes, stood at the edge of the walk, and pointed. "Heather! It's not nice to point!" Her mother admonished, coming over and grabbing the girl's hand. She smiled at the two boys sitting on the lawn. They both blushed simultaneously. Another moment passed. Prince got to his feet, followed by Kip. "Follow me." Kip heard him say it. But, not out loud. In his mind. They walked to the side of the building, squeezed through the hedge and an opening in the iron fence. Walking to the backside of the library by the garbage dumpster, Prince turned to Kip. "Show me." This time out loud. Kip looked around to see if anyone was looking. He smirked, unsnapped his jeans, and nudged them down. Next, his briefs. His dick and balls just hung there. Prince bent over and studied Kip's stuff. Standing up, he said, "Same." Kip couldn't help but giggle as he pulled his pants back up. Silently, they walked to the street in front of the library. The Prince turned back toward his house. As he left, he turned to Kip. "See ya around." Kip watched him go, shrugged his shoulders, and turned back toward the store where his job awaited him.