Date: Mon, 28 Oct 2013 23:01:39 -0400
From: Jade <phantomscorpio77@gmail.com>
Subject: In the Shadow of Our Lives - Wings of Tomorrow 10

Copyright © 2013 by Jaden Lane, All Rights Reserved.  No part of this
book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval storage system, without permission in
writing from the copyright owner.  (Permission to post electronically is
given to www.nifty.org and its affiliated mirror sites only.)

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblances to any person, place, or
written works are purely coincidental.  It may contain consensual sex
between young men.  Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is
illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason.

Nifty would like our help to continue to provide us with wonderful stories.
Please donate if you can.

Check out my web page (yahoo group) where I post this along with my other
stories!  The format is way cleaner to read (pdf), both on the computer and
on mobile devices, and if you join the group it will send notifications
when new chapters are posted.
http://ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/phantomscorpio77


>>).:.(<<


In the Shadows of Our Lives
Part 2 - Wings of Tomorrow X
~ Merry X-mas – yo! ~

"The sun is down, the day is done,
The sky is dark and I'm on the run,
Yesterday is so far away.
The wind is strong, there's something wrong,
But I just have to carry on,
For tomorrow is a brand new day."

Memories, by Europe


>>).:.(<<

PAUL

Lounging in each other's arms in the early morning afterglow following
waking in my boyfriend's bed, and having a quickie with said boyfriend the
day after Christmas, he nuzzles me and then reveals, "Kay, so you asked me
the other night about that poster, and then you got all worried about my
book of sketches and quotes.  Don't worry, Tim didn't tell on you.  I heard
you guys talk for a bit that morning after you came up to get my journal;
my vent is right above the one in the living room and I've learned
conversation travels right up it.  You can't see much, but you can stare
straight down at the couch from it if you really try."

I cut him off, "Ah shoot, I didn't mean...well, I got a little
worried...don't be mad?"

He continues to assure me, "I'm not mad.  You deserve to know, so here it
is.  I get upset sometimes, I get sad sometimes.  I withdraw into myself
and mostly the quotes and the drawings are the only manifestation of that
now.  It's gotten a lot better since I can talk to Tim and my family about
my feelings.  Getting upset over Daniel, I tried to shield you from that,
and Tim seems upset lately so I didn't want to burden him.  I don't smoke
pot anymore, and you've seen what a lightweight I am with alcohol.  Still,
I fucked up, and for that I'm sorry.  But that's the extent of it.  I
promise."

"Okay."

"You don't sound too convinced.  I swear, it's not like I need to be
medicated, or ever have been.  And I'm like totally against suicide, for
me.  I'm terrified of death.  I don't want to die till I'm old and wrinkled
and have no teeth left.  Life is dealing with the good and the bad it
throws at you.  I actually love my life now.  And besides, I'm a wimp.  Not
that I've ever like, thought about suicide, but believe me, it's more pain
than I could ever inflict on myself.  You have to believe me.  You can read
the whole journal if you want.  Be prepared to blush though.  You star in
it prominently."

"Alright, I believe you!"

"Good!  Now can I ask you something personal?" Jon asks me as we lay in his
bed.

"You can ask me anything," I answer.

"You don't have to answer, you may regret letting me ask," Jon starts.

"Go ahead and ask," I prompt him.

"Kay.  It's about those baseball guys that transferred.  Sort of, but not
really.  Tim said he thinks they may have been sexually hazed, and that's
why they transferred.  Then he kinda shut up abruptly, so I asked him if he
was hazed when he made the team.  He won't answer directly, which with him
means yes.  I've been trying to work it out and I can come up with a
million and one scenarios, but you made the school team the same year as
him, so you probably had it done too."

I nod, not really wanting to relive the ordeal.

He's curious, "What did they do to you guys?"

"You really want to know," I say more as a statement than a question, "Ah
shoot.  Um, well first off, Tim actually made the team a year before me, so
it was a little different for him and me."

"But you know what they did to him?  Was it bad?"

I sigh, "Alright.  Yeah.  You're probably heard the new guys on the
baseball team referred to as `rat-tails' every year haven't you?"

Jon nods.

"Do you not what a rat-tail is?"

"Like when you snap your towel at a naked guy in the shower or locker
room?"

"Yeah those are too, and that's what the coaches, teachers, and everyone
else are supposed to think.  No, a rat-tail is a tampon."

"They make you wear a tampon?  Where?" Jon asks, knowing where, but
disbelieving, "Like really?"

"Yeah, really.  It's never happened for real at our school in years, as far
as I know, but the threat is enough to get rookies to participate in
whatever the seniors cook up.  Word from a couple of my cousins is that
forcible rat-tailing was the initiation over at the other school though."

"Oh shit.  So what did they make you do when you made the team?  Wait!  You
started off by saying Tim made the team a year before you and then told me
about rat-tails.  Did they rat-tail Tim?"

"We all had to stand on a bench and choke the chicken together and the last
one to come got held down by the other rookies and circle jerked on by the
seniors with his mouth held open courtesy of something from Brent Liddle.
Anyone that fell off the bench had to stop jerking long enough to spread
Rub A5-35 all between his legs, from the top of his crack to his butthole,
straight across his taint, all around his balls, and right back up to the
tip of his penis.  He can do it himself, or if he refuses, someone will do
it for him.  The stuff burns.  Then he had to get back up on the bench and
back to jerking it."

"Did anyone fall off?  Did you fall off?  Was there a cum dump?  Who was
it?"

"Five guys shaking the shit out of one bench?  We all fell off.  More than
once."

"So did you put the stuff on yourself of did some other guy get to touch
you there before me after all?"

"Heavens no!  After we saw Wayne fall off and refuse, they used half the
bottle on him it looked like.  Wayne couldn't get back into it so he was
the one held down and marked by the seniors.  I got away with maybe a tenth
the cream they put on him, wasn't first to shoot, but wasn't last.  Still,
it burned like a mother."

"Wow, I'm glad I never went out for any team.  I can't believe you guys!
That is gayer than anything gay guys do!  That is so beyond gay!  All
because you like to swing a stick at a ball and adjust your cup in front of
the girls in the crowd?"

"No, some of us like to adjust for the benefit of the boys in the crowd!"

"Damn right!"

"Maybe catch an eye linger and hopefully snag a boyfriend.  Seems to have
worked out just right for me."

"Kay, you've got me there!  So, that's what happened to you.  You're still
not telling me what they did to Tim."

"If he hasn't told you, I don't think I should, but...  He made the team
straight away in grade nine.  As a starter too, there were so many players
that graduated from the year before.  There were as many rookies as
returning players, but he, Brent and Mickey were all rookie starters that
year, even though Brent was a year ahead of us.  That's the same year my
brother Peter made the team and quit because he wouldn't go along with the
hazing."

"Why not, I thought baseball was your family's thing as much as music."

"Yeah, but it was too homosexual and against our family's beliefs for
Peter.  I'm serious when I tell you my entire family is strict to the
church and feel gays should be stoned to death."

"Yeah, so what gay act did Tim have to do?"

"I only know this because Brent Liddle actually bragged about it.  Again,
something perverted he gets off on...The rookies all had to jerk the
seniors off at the first team party.  If they wouldn't do it, they would be
held down by the other rookies as the returning players circle jerked on
them.  So Tim had to jerk at least one other guy off.  As for Brent, rumour
has it, it didn't take very much convincing from one of the seniors to let
him use his mouth instead of his hand.  Afterwards, he told the guys he was
up for laying down for the entire team to circle jerk on him anyways.
That's how word got out that he's bisexual."

"That sounds like Brent," Jon says, catching himself and sounding
apologetic near the end, "So, instead of making yourself sterile with a
muscle relaxant cream, or jerking off older guys, I have a better offer for
you to make this team."

"What team?"

"You know.  The home team?  As in the gay team?"

"We have a team?"

Jon rolls his eyes, "You know, like when a guy talks about a girl not
putting out for him and he says it's because she must play for `the other
team'.  Or when a guy is accused of liking another guy they say he's
hitting for the home team?  Like straights versus gays?  We're on the gay
team."

"I know what you meant silly-billy!  But lets make my try-out for the team
a solo competition, because there's no way I'm sharing you with any team
ever again.  I stupidly sat back and let the team have you first.  Never
again.  And no sharing or fooling around.  No threesomes, no orgies.
You're mine now.  For as long as you'll have me."

"Kay, for your try-out then, you have to undress me with your teeth, after
I do the same to you.  Then you have to put a condom on your nice penis,
but there's a rule for that.  The thrill of putting it on you belongs to
me!  Um, make that two rules.  The second rule is that you have to use lots
of lube.  No wait, three rules.  The third and final rule will be that you
don't get to take it off until you've filled it while it's inside me...I
mean really, that's just a suggestion, you know, if you're into trying to
hit a home run with me in bed.  No pressure.  So, you game?  Wanna try-out
for my team?"

"Yeah!  I think I've already gone through the try outs and I hope I made
the team.  But if you want more time to decide, you can name the place and
time."

"Seriously?"

"Of course I want to have sex with you!  Isn't that how it works?  Find a
nice hot guy that you like, and who likes you, and have lots of sex?"

"What about love?"

"No, I don't think the Heart song works.  How about U2's `The Sweetest
Thing'?"

Jon chokes, "Guh!  I can't stand U2!  But I wasn't talking about our song
so don't get all cute and shy on me just because we're talking about you
making love to me.  I'm serious.  You said like, not love.  Find a guy you
like.  I know it's too soon, but I love you."

"I love you too!  That's a given, silly monkey.  I'm just saying, I
wouldn't want to have sex with you if you didn't turn me on.  Sorry, but
that's part of it too."

"Kay, you're right again.  Well then, as well as loving you, I really like
you!"

"And I really like you too, at least once a day lately.  But that's mostly
by myself so far.  What you're making it hard for me to say is that I think
that I really, really like you!  As in I'm ready."

"I know what you meant, kay?  But you're too cute when you blush.  It makes
me even harder."

"You're just a tad evil, you know that?"

"Hey, I'll take credit for the tent you're pitching right now.  But it's
not my fault you look so cute.  Normally you're just hot, so when you get
all cute too, it gives me even more to lust over."

"Evil I say!"

"Yeah, yeah.  So, you think those guys that came over from the other
school, they had a rat tail done to them for initiation?"

"No.  No one knows the details for sure, but the three guys that
transferred in, word is they're the only seniors that tried to stop it, so
they got to come over and get special exemption to play this year for our
school.  Whatever happened, the rest of the seniors on the team there were
expelled and might be getting charged with sodomy rape or sexual assault,
and the school's baseball program is shut down, maybe even their entire
athletic department."

"Oh shit.  Why wouldn't Tim tell me that?"

"I guess he hates what happened to us.  This year he and Mickey are
captains.  They toned it down huge."

"Yeah, he was all excited about the baby pajamas they made the new guys
wear for the pep rally and all day at school before it!  You think that's
all he and Mickey made the new guys do?"

"Wayne and Jackie would have told me otherwise, code of secrecy or not.
Besides, that was way funny!  Heck, aside from the bonnets and soothers, I
thought it was kinda hot in a weird way!  Especially because they still had
their jocks on underneath."

"I know!"

In the silence that ensues, I clear my throat and venture, "So, you asked
me something personal, now I get to ask you something personal."

"Uh oh.  Like what?"

"What do you wash your hair with?"

"Aussie shampoo," Jon answers skeptically, and bolts to turn on the light
and look in the full length mirror on his closet door, "Why?  Does it look
dirty?  Does it smell?  Is it greasy?  Do I have dandruff?  I don't, do I?"

"Australian shampoo, is that code for dish soap?"

"What?  No!  It's seriously a brand that they stock at the grocery store Ma
works at.  Like that purple bottle in the shower.  Your fancy Wal-Mart even
has it."

"Oh."

"Why?  Oh no, you don't think I use dish soap do you?  I'm not that lame!"

I blabber, "Well I've just never seen shampoo that smells like lemon
before, and the only bottle in the shower is the purple bottle you
mentioned, but it's strawberry, and you have lemon sunlight in the
kitchen."

"Daniel liked to comment on the strawberry-kiwi stuff I used to use.  Tease
me about it, so I got my own.  I thought lemon was more manly than Ma and
my sister's strawberry-kiwi.  Besides, it's not even lemon, it's their
Citrus Shine line.  It's lime and something else, and it has aloe in it to
make my hair soft and give it a nice shine, thank you very much!  I don't
like the smell of Tim's Pert Plus or Larry's Head and Shoulders.  They both
make me gag a little.  Your hair smells like apples, what do you use,
Palmolive dishsoap?  I'll switch if you want."

"I don't know, I use the stuff Mama buys.  Pears I think.  I still say
yours' smells like lemon.  I like the scent, I didn't mean to offend.  I
was thinking of switching to yours even if it was dish soap.  I tried the
strawberry stuff in your shower and like that too."

"That's Ma's.  That's the strawberry-kiwi stuff I used to use.  If you want
to use mine, the rest of us keep our stuff under the sink so the shower
isn't cluttered on Ma, because she has to share the bathroom with three
guys now instead of three girls."

"Gotcha.  So, um, if you can hear conversations in the living room through
the vent, do you think Larry's son heard us having sex above him on
Christmas eve?"

"Uh, yeah.  I think maybe the whole house heard us.  But don't sweat it,
you were the top that night.  And I don't think we were the only ones
anyhow.  Dee pulled the sheets and bed liner from Tim's bed, and after
mocking me, she said Ma and Larry were probably Louder than you and I.
Christmas morning though, that one's on you."

"Don't tell me that!  I was happier thinking that no one knew!  I don't
want your family knowing!"

"Yeah, well that genie's permanently out of the bottle.  And they would be
thinking it anyways.  You have a dick, I have a dick.  We're horny
teenagers.  Doesn't take a genius to figure out that something's gonna be
going somewhere, one way or the other."

"Shush!  New subject.  When's Duncan arrive?"

"Mom's picking him up after her shift."

"And that would be when?"

"His plane lands around half past noon."

"What time does your shift finish tonight?"

"Five."

"I'm done at Sports Authority at noon, then have a hockey game with Jackie
at 2, and have Wal-Mart from 6 until 9.  I want to go home tonight and try
to talk with my parents, but do you want me to save your friend from your
mom in between my game and you getting home?"

"Could you?"

"Yeah.  It might keep my mind of Belinda spending the day with Stacey.
From the second I drop her off, I'll be counting down the minutes till I
pick her up."

"I still think it's big of you to let Stacey have a day with her even when
you don't have to."

"If her parents weren't going to be there the whole day I wouldn't."

"What time is it babes, or can you read it without your eyes in?"

"You're never going to let that one go are you?  Well, just for that, you
can get up and check for yourself.  I'll warn you though, the p.m. dot
isn't lit up yet," I say, making reference to a crack from Tim.

"It better not be, I'd be way late for my 8:30 shift if it were," Jon says
as his naked body slithers a leg over my torso to get a look at the clock,
his limp penis still feeling solid and desirable against my stomach, "Uggh!
7:04?  I can't sleep in to save my life this week, and watch, next week
you'll never catch me this wide awake at this time of morning.  Kay, well,
Belinda's still sleeping there, so I'm taking my ass for a quick shower,
unless you want to ride it again."

"You're ready to go again already?"

"Um, yeah.  You?"

He deftly infers by my reaching for the lube that I don't have to be asked
twice.  He gets right into position and helps me get erect.  With little
time to waste this one is all business, but satisfying for both of us
nonetheless.

>>).:.(<<

After work I call my Daddy and ask him if we can talk tonight when I get
home.  I think he's caving from the pressure my aunts and uncles are
heaping on him and Mama to lay off me a little, as well as some help from
Jackie and Wayne's parents, who pointed out that I'm turning to near
strangers in `Coach Maynes and his girlfriend' to help with Belinda.  Of
course they all don't know that Coach's girlfriend is actually my
boyfriends' mother, nor do they have to know.  At least everyone seems to
be pointing out how hypocritical it is of my parents to turn on mw,
especially seeing as the family I come from on my dad's side.  Being a
father by my age isn't all that abnormal for dad's side of the family, and
considering my dad has 6 brothers and two sisters and his dad has 5
brothers and 5 sisters, starting early and having lots of kids is how we
roll.  Only, I don't plan on any more kids for me.  All the same, Daddy
agrees and seems to be genuine in wanting to lay off me a bit.

Following that phone call I race over to Jackie's to pick him up for our
afternoon game today.  He's made lunch for two, so I help demolish a quick
box of KD before we head to the arena for our game.

After the game I drop Jackie off .  He can't make any round robin game
tonight or tomorrow or the first of two possible elimination games the
following day while I have the next two days off.  He cautions me like a
nagging parent, "So you're going to have to wear Wayne's jersey the rest of
the tournament because they have `him' or you, down as a left shot.  And
you didn't check any guys out that I saw today, so keep it up and all's
good."

"None of them were worth looking at.  Not even you," I joke.

"That's right.  You apparently like the really scrawny guys.  Yeah everyone
in the dressing room's a little meatier than your man."

"Jon's fit.  He's long and slender with great curves.  Tim's made him
develop some nice little pecks now and his stomach shows abs when he flexes
it.  He's just never going to be built, but at least he isn't fat."

"Well you need a little cushion for your pushin, unless your butt cheeks
are his bumpers.  Then you boys are set.  You never did shed the fat ass
when you lost that weight."

"Screw you.  He loves my butt and I love his.  You should see it actually,
it's way cute and he totally does have some padding.  More than I figured."

"Have you guys..."

"Uh-huh."

"And?"

"Awesome!"

"Who gets to uh..."

"We both do."

"Cool!  I guess that's one advantage to being with a guy."

I change the subject, "Mind if I keep your equipment for tomorrow?"

"Uh, I guess, maybe.  You're not going to play dress up with your man with
it are you?"

"Wouldn't do that to ya Jackie my boy.  Nah, Jon has a friend that's
visiting for a week.  I was thinking I'd wear your stuff tomorrow and he
could wear mine.  He's from Canada and he plays."

"Doesn't every kid in Canada play?"

"I don't know.  Probably.  I just figured that your team is going to be
short at least you for tomorrow, so maybe the guy could pretend to be you
for a couple games while I pretend to be Wayne."

"Yeah, he can wear my jersey as long as you wear the rest of my stuff and
give this kid your stuff.  Seriously.  I don't want some weirdo I don't
even know wearing my equipment.  Let me just grab a couple things first."

Just as I expect, Jackie grabs his jock shorts, sweaty boxers, socks and
towel when I drop him off.  I guess he believes the rumour that went around
the baseball team that Andy Shaw walked in on me masturbating to his jock a
few years back on a baseball trip.  Which, by the way, was a bold lie.  I
swear I never even knew some guys really did that until Jon.

"For the record, I never sniffed Andy's jock," I say as he zips his bag
back up.

"Good to know Paulie.  Don't be all sensitive just because I like to wash
mine between games.  I'm grabbing my skates too.  Damp equipment can't be
avoided, but cold, wet skates give me the heebie-jeebies.  The only thing
worse to put on is a cold and wet cup."

"Sorry."

"Don't be.  You're a little right, but just a little.  Your gay ass will
still be wearing the rest of my stuff, and I really don't mind.  Oh shit,
let me take my mouthguard off my cage too.  You don't want to touch that
thing."

>>).:.(<<

When I get to Jon's house I find Duncan at the computer with Jon's ma,
setting up a Napster folder just for her.  He has a stack of her CD's and
is ripping them to the hard drive and showing her how she can use it as a
jukebox.

"Charlene introduces, "Duncan, this is Paul, Jon's boyfriend.  Paul,
Duncan."

"Hey!  You look even better in person, not to be rude," He says, standing
and offering his hand to shake.

"Jon's shared pictures that I look bad in?"

"No, not per se.  He gave me his log on for your school's online yearbook.
I creeped through the pics."

Charlene interrupts, knowing that now that I'm here she going to be ignored
by Duncan, "Don't forget all those Canadian songs you promised!"

"Seriously?  I wouldn't wuss-out on you like that!  See right here, eight
are still in que and we're downloading five from my account right now.
This one's 93 percent transferred and that one's 84 percent," He says and
clicks on one so that it starts playing.  A cool guitar intro from a
Honeymoon Suite song starts as he adds, "I'll see what else I have that you
don't have, or what I think you'll like and transfer them for you too.  If
you don't like, you can sue me, or just delete them."

Wow, this guy is high energy and I don't think he stops smiling, even when
he's talking!  He's infectious.  He's tall with a decent body, has an
accent, and is hot to boot.  He's like Jon's ex Chris, only bigger, and
while boyish-cute, definitely more manly.  Jon is going to love him.  I'm
jealous already.

When Jon gets home it's basically a hand off of Duncan from me to him.  As
Jon approaches the front door I excuse myself to a much needed shower
before my shift at Wal-Mart.  Not that it phases Duncan much, he still
talking a mile a minute when he looks up at Jon and pauses, then declares,
"Oh, wasn't expecting this.  You're really kind of hot.  In your pictures
you looked more adorkable than hot."

Jon and I both ask, "Adorkable?"

He clarifies as if it's the most common phrase ever, "Yeah, dorky blended
with adorable.  You're like, way more yummy than your pictures give you
credit for.  Way more."

Jon is stopped dead in his tracks.

"Daa woops!  I met your boyfriend by putting my other foot in my mouth.
I'm not crushing on you or going to be all flirty or whatever.  Just
getting it out there, you two are cute as can be!  Someone needs to get
better pictures of you guys in your yearbook.  There, I'm done, now lets
forgedabouddit and how about a hug.  It's awesome to finally meet you!
I've been so looking forward to this week," Duncan says to smooth things
over, throwing an Italian accent in the middle of his verbal barrage.

I give Jon a kiss just to be possessive, "You two behave now!  I have to
have a quick shower and get going or else I'm going to be late."

"Aww, don't be worried.  I love you," Jon soothes as he hugs me tight.  He
blatantly breathes in my slight stink from hockey, then smiles devilishly
and gives me another kiss.

"Yo, seriously.  You two are cute little puppy dogs in love.  Not that I
had any intentions of hitting on either of you, but I promise you my
earlier comments aren't it.  Really.  I'll tease but I'd never ruin what
you guys have!"


>>).:.(<<

JON

As Paul heads up for his shower I feel validated that Duncan apparently
thinks that both Paul and I are good looking.  He's actually pretty damn
stunning himself.  He's tall and solid and his face is, well, stunning.  He
has a broad smile that shows his white teeth, perfect eyebrows, big bright
eyes that are outlined by dark and solid eyelashes, a perfectly sculpted
nose, a lean and round jawline and chin, and the kicker is the smattering
of pale freckles across his high cheeks and nose.  He is however
considerably paler than me.

I can detect his subtle cologne a few feet away from me, something I picked
up on as soon as we hugged.  I toyed with buying that cologne, but figured
dropping a ton of money on a bottle called Sexual wasn't in the budget.
Turning to him I don't know what we should do, "So, you're actually here!
What do you want to do first?"

"Aight.  First thing I wanna do is change out of these pants.  It's hella
warm here.  Then I want to see your world.  You know, your school, the
bleachers you got laid under, the mall where you work, the baseball diamond
where you drool over your man, and your other man, the park where you have
your deep epiphanies at.  Super cool mom by the way, she's awesome!  My
friend Jase would be chatting her up over her CD collection, especially the
George Harrison she's got pumping out right now."

"Kay, well you can change if you want.  I can show you around but I don't
have my licence."

"You need a licence to walk in Texas?  Da-um!  Looks like we're screwed!"

"No, I was just saying..."

"I knew it!  You're so fun to trip up!  It's even easier in person than
through messenger!  I promise I'll cut down on that too, but I do live for
shock value, so you're gonna hafta deal...oh, and when we get to the mall
and cruise the boys, you can't look.  Partly because you're taken and
mostly 'cause you tend to run into garbage pails when you stare at a nice
ass for too long if memory serves me correctly...but I need to get a pair
of skates at Sports Authority.  Paul asked if I'd be up for playing a
couple games as his friend in their Christmas tournament.  Ha!  I get to
wear you boyfriends' equipment before you do, unless you've been naughty
and have held out on me!"

All that spat out in seconds, and in an accent.  My mind is trying to keep
up, "Uh, well you can change in Tim's room.  I'll show you."

"Upstairs, first door on the right.  Your mom covered that and I helped her
put some sheets on his bed.  I was gonna wait until your man leaves for
work before I change.  He seems a tad possessive of you, don't blame him,
so I'll just chill for now so he doesn't think I'm trying to undress for
you or summin."

"He wouldn't think that.  Hey, he's the one that gets to see you naked
tomorrow for hockey if you're playing."

"Nah, I keep my boxers on under my hockey shorts.  I like to cop a look
myself, I mean hey, what self-respecting gay could deny himself the eye
candy, but if they want to see my show they have to pay for admission
first."

"Oh, well then..."

"Haha, you're so fun!  You are like ten shades of red under your tan and
you can't blame it on the reflection from the fire pit like you said you
tried with Chris!  Yo, look at me, I'm like Casper the ghost's albino
vampire cousin here compared to you.  I need to get some sun!  F.Y.I.  I
wanna go home so dark that everyone'll be jealous of my bitchin tan!"

"Wow, do you remember everything I tell you?"

"Hey, when my only constant real boyfriend is my own hand, yeah, Ima live
through you a little."

"But you have Benji," I point out.

"Total dry spell, and you know he's always maintained we'll never be proper
boyfriends."

"Did you really eat a whole bag of your friends' skittles that day I called
you or was that just a cover?"

"I'm being hyper aren't I?  Sorry.  I'll calm down soon.  I've had like two
bottles of Mountain Dew since the airport to keep myself awake and I'm
prolly overtired too cause I've been up for way more hours than I can even
add up right now.  Yeah, I think that was a Mountain Dew and Yvonne's
skittles that had me bouncing off the ceiling when you first called.  She
was being so bossy that day!  Hey, you want to see me really spin?  Got any
candy?  Oh look, there's your stud now!  I'll go change now so you two can
suck face in private for as long as Paul has.  See you tomorrow Paul, and
thanks for the offer!  I can't wait!  Who knew?  Playing hockey in Texas, I
never thought I'd ever do that," Duncan spews out and then attacks the
stairs two at a time.

"He's full of piss 'n vinegar," Paul points out.

"Yeah, he's tired and hopped up on caffeine.  Mountain Dew.  I guess they
don't have Red Bull in Vancouver.  Maybe we should introduce him, but he
did warn he'd probably act nervous and anxious at first," I defend.

"And he has the hugest crush on you," Paul suggests.

I disagree, "No way.  He's just really forward like that.  Chatting with
him so much, he's a big part of me coming out of my shell.  Not that I'll
ever be as bubbly as him."

Paul pulls me in for a hug and a kiss, "Nah.  Mark my words, he's totally
in love with you.  His breath caught when you walked in the door.  He
totally stopped talking mid-sentence, and he can talk.  Watch out for him."

"I don't know.  You think?  Well if so, he's being super respectful of us.
He didn't want to change until you were out of the shower just so you could
see he wasn't undressing in front of me.  Plus I get the benefit of you
being jealous and touching me without holding back."

"Maybe.  Yeah I am a lot more comfortable with the displays of public
affection today aren't I."

I dig my hands into Paul's back pockets, squeezing his butt and grinding
our crotches together, "So much so that I want to jump you right now and
make you late for work.  But I'll just have to wait until tomorrow night to
sleep with the man of my dreams again."

Paul and I are stirred from our lengthy kiss when we notice a flash go off.
Dressed in a sleeveless zip up hoodie and cargo shorts, Duncan is back
before I know it, and making it evident that he thinks 70 degrees is warm.
With an ever present smile he secures the camera in a side pocket of his
shorts and shrugs, "Sorry, that was just too cute to pass up.  I had to
take a picture.  Who knows, if it turns out really good maybe I'll blow it
up and frame it, have someone write lyrics from an 80's love song over it."

I shoot back, "I charge for that."

"Oi, if ye be whore'n yerself out that's no my problem!  Ye nay be getting
a penny off me," Duncan fires right back at me with a Scottish brogue.  Oh
wow, this is going to be a week of shits and giggles for sure.  I wish Tim
were here for this, he'd absolutely get a kick out of Duncan.

We let Paul go so that he can get to work on time and then I raid the
fridge for some Christmas leftovers.  I stuff some turkey and cranberry
into a few dinner rolls, nuke them and then Duncan and I head out with food
in hand to show him my world.  Along the way to the mall I point out
landmarks pertinent to my life; Daniel's house, Tim's old house, my school
and the music store at the mall.  We beeline past the music store and
straight to the small hockey section in Sports Authority.

Looking at the prices he gulps, but tries on a pair of skates.  When he
sends the employee looking for another pair in a better model he ask me my
shoe size.  Turns out we're the same, which he comments on, "You know what
they say Jiffy, big feet..."

"Big dick," I say with a satisfactory smile.

"Wew!  Judges, can we accept that answer?  No?  Oh too bad!  And the answer
is...drumroll...What is big feet, big shoes, and a small penis?  Sorry
about your luck Jiffy.  I'll take Phallic Terms for a thousand Alex.  Daily
double?  Awesome, I'd like to bet the whole schlong please!"

"Then yours is small too," I contend.  We've never actually traded sizes;
he's always made it very clear that that's not something we need to share.

"Nuh-uh.  Your clown feet may be as big as mine, but I've got at least a
couple inches in height on you.  And I'm taller too," He jokes.

"I think I'm doing alright in that department," I suggest.

He gets serious for the first time since he's been in my presence.  Looking
around to make sure no one else can hear he says, "Chill big guy.  I'm sure
you're hung just fine.  As long as it makes you and your man happy who
cares what the rest of the world has to say.  And we're still not going to
compare.  But if you still have my cup, I may need to borrow that back
tomorrow."

"The yellow one?"

"What you get so many cups from different guys in the mail you don't know
what one I sent you?"

"Yeah I still have it, 'kay."

"Well we've probably both done naughty things with it.  I know I have, I
can only hope you have too.  No pressure, if you're not comfortable with it
then Ima grab a new one while we're here.  That's all yo," He says, his
face finally blushing.

"Um, yeah we've both done more than sweat in it.  But it's still perfectly
fine.  Just sort of awkward now that I have Paul," I suggest.

"What, that you have it in the first place or that you're excited about me
sweating it up again.  Ima buy a new one, don't worry," Duncan decides.

"Um, no.  Maybe if you could use it again; that would be really hot.  Paul
knows about it.  I told you I think he's into it too.  It's just
embarrassing talking about it."

"You sure don't seem so embarrassed when you type that shit out on
messenger!  Although, if by embarrassing it means you're boning up over it
like me," He says shyly.

"Yeah, that too," I concede, "Where is that guy already?  Did he go on
break or get lost or what?"

"Haha, you're too much!  If you weren't taken I'd be all over you.  If
you'd have me, that is.  But forget that, it's cool.  First impression;
Paul is as awesome as you've advertised.  I'm happy for you guys, but if
you both don't end up in Vancouver for school I'm gonna be pissed.  I think
we all can be really good friends.  Only I have to go get my own sex, which
is cool."

I automatically spit out, "Benji?"

Duncan sounds contrite and resigned, almost mournful as he answers, "Dunno.
Still haven't got him pegged.  You know that red thong you sent me and how
I told you he took it off me?  He wore it yesterday for Christmas and then
left it in my bag.  I was packed and it was zipped up.  He took it off in
my bathroom, went into my room, unzipped my bag and left it on top.  I
think he swiped a pair of boxers from my hamper, and he left his hoodie for
me."

I don't even know what to say to that.  This guy is messing with my
friend's head something fierce.  There's a long moment of silence between
us.

Turns out that the first pair of skates Duncan tried out are the ones he
gets.  The guy suggests they are too small but he insists otherwise,
explaining how Wayne Gretzky apparently wore skates that were too small and
curled his toes in them.  He opts not to have them heated up and formed to
his feet, but does get them sharpened and buys a pair of hockey shorts,
explaining that he'd still like to maybe borrow the cup back, but needs the
sock tabs on the shorts.  After Sports Authority we tour the music store
and then drop the hockey stuff of at my house.

From there we take a walk around to my two thinking places; the cemetery
where my dad is and Freed Park, under the tree that in recent years I've
come to think of as my `brooding tree'.  It's not the tree that Daniel and
I fooled around in, the same one I used to have a tree house with my
childhood neighbor, Phil, but rather the one I was lounging under with
Bandit and feeling sorry for myself over Daniel when Tim, Neil and Tania
rescued me from my self pity.

Duncan and I share so much under that tree, I find him incredibly easy to
confide everything in.  A big part of that I know is because he's only here
for a week and otherwise a sounding board for me somewhere far away, lost
in his own world in another big city in a different country.  He tells me a
lot more about his home and his life than he'd previously revealed in our
chats.  He has a spot too, a park bench by a beach called English Bay that
he tells me about and promises to show me sometime If Paul and I actually
make it to his city for university.

As selfish as it is, having him there as a possible replacement in my life
for my best friend Tim is a strong motivator for me to find a way to the
University of British Columbia, when Tim leaves me to chase his baseball
dreams at whichever college offers him the best package.  If I wasn't so
deeply in love with Paul after chasing each other for so long, I could
easily fall in love with Duncan.  He's way more outgoing and spontaneous
than me, but at his core we are so alike, and he is really deep and
grounded, caring and intuitive, just like Tim.  He deserves better than to
be jerked around like he is by his straight best friend / sexual partner.
By the time the sun sets we can see the start of a sunburn rising in
Duncan.

On our travels we stopped in at a variety store and grab Duncan his first
ever Red Bull.  I can see the caffeine is hardly even registering in his
body so I figure it's time to head home as the sun sets.  Before I can talk
him into calling it a night he insists on giving me a belated Christmas
gift.  Even though we both promised to keep it inexpensive, it's so funny
that we always come back to underwear.  I got him a really nice pair of
boxers from Hollister, and he got me a trunk style boxer brief and a thong
from a store called Body Body on Davie Street in the gay area of Vancouver.

When his yawns seem to be contagious I chase him to Tim's room for bed.  He
pulls the sleeveless hoodie off over his head and then folds it and drops
it on a chair.  Even through his new white wife-beater I can see the fine
muscle development on his back, from his traps and shoulders right down to
his lats.  When he turns to ask about a shower I'm a little in awe of the
washboard stomach and his tight pecs.  He said he was in shape, not ripped.
He is a poster boy for toned and defined muscles and a walking billboard
for personal fitness.

"Don't be impressed Jiffy.  If I wasn't so lazy I'd bulk up some like my
brother, instead of just maintaining this, but I'm not as disciplined as
him."

"Kay.  Do me a favour and don't catch me without my shirt on though?
However built your brother Brennan is to you, you're that to me, so
yeah...Like my stomach isn't an innie anymore, but I only have abs at all
when I breath hard and flex."

"Cool yo!  That's all you need.  When Paul's sweating one out in you and he
looks down, that's when he'll see them then.  Or when you're loving him and
he looks up and down your body, that's all you need.  I'm not saying go
ahead and get fat now, but you don't have to impress now, now that you guys
are like married.  All the same, you're not nearly as scrawny as you sell
yourself.  You're never going to be huge with your frame, but you can see
the results of Tim dragging you to the gym.  And I'm not referring to the
wet spot you got in your shorts when you stole glances of your loverboy
either," Duncan shares.

Damn if you aren't the gay version of Tim!  Do you even smile in you sleep?
You haven't stopped smiling and being positive and charming since I first
saw you today.

As Duncan pulls a thin pair of sleeping pants and his travel bag of
toiletries out of his stuffed gym bag that must be his suitcase, I explain,
"Well, I think I should get to bed.  I'll keep Bandit with me if you want
to keep the door open, otherwise he'll probably hog the bed on you because
he does it to Tim.  He thinks it's his room I guess."

"No way!  I've never had a dog, only a cat.  He can sleep with me or
wherever wants.  It's his place," Duncan says with obvious excitement at
the idea.

"I'll warn you, he doesn't just sleep at your feet.  He pushes Tim around,
and Tim's solid.  You're height, broader shoulders, and even bigger chest
and arms than you."

"Yeah, I've seen the pictures.  He's a stud!  Maybe I'll check under the
mattress for any cummy boxerbriefs he's left that you haven't liberated
yet...not!  Da-um!  Don't creep him out and tell him I just said that.
It's really awesome of him letting me crash in his bed.  You promise he
knows I'm gay?"

"I promise.  I haven't done laundry in days, there may be something in his
hamper for you," I tease.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me, "Sha-right!  Where?"

"Um, right there in that hamper," I point out.

"Cool-yo.  But I was just kidding.  I couldn't violate his privacy like
that.  I mean I could, and it is tempting, but I have my pride, so I
wouldn't.  Still, you went and told him everything about me and how we're
both into underwear, so why don't you empty his hamper into yours.  That
way you can remove any shadow of a doubt for him.  I mean, if I ever get to
meet him some day, I don't want him thinking I went through his
unmentionables.  Letting me sleep in his bed is personal enough, and really
super kind of him.  I'm about to scrub myself clean in the shower and look
here, see this?  You can even tell him that I brought my own pillow, so he
doesn't have to worry that some stranger drooled on his or whatever.  He
seems like a really nice guy, so yeah, just empty his hamper to give him
piece of mind," Duncan urges as he places Tim's pillow on top of the hamper
lid and removes his own pillow from a clear garbage bag he used to protect
it in.

I note, "You're really serious, aren't you?"

"Serious like a heart attack!  I don't like making people uncomfortable, so
yeah.  And could you say thanks again and goodnight to your mom and Larry
for me?  I sorta don't want to meet her boyfriend after my shower when I'm
in PJ's," Duncan says, lifting the lid of the hamper and pretending to peak
in before trying to tickle my stomach and then pointing past me towards the
bathroom.

I step out of the doorway so he can get my, "Kay.  G'night."

Duncan pulls me in for a very loose man-hug, "Sleep tight, and thanks
again.  This is so awesome!  I'm super stoked and I'm so happy you're as
chill as I thought you'd be.  I hope I haven't been too weird for you
tonight.  The relaxed me at the park is more normal.  Way more normal.
I'll be that guy from here on out, I promise!"

When Duncan's settled in bed and sounds to be asleep I reflect on that hug.
I'm glad he's here, and I'm glad he's being very careful of not crossing
any boundaries.  Wearing his old jock to bed, the one he gave me, with the
very cup that he himself will be wearing again in a few hours, a small part
of me is curious of how it would have felt if he hugged me tighter in his
firm grip, but way more of me is happy with the way Paul held me so tight
in his arms today rather than the fine china he's held me like in the past.
I could feel the hard-on in my boyfriend's pants and I know it's for me
because it was soft when I first ground my crotch against his.  I hope once
he has Belinda asleep that he's silently beating off to thoughts of me
tonight in his own bed at home, because I'm about grab the first piece of
his hockey gear I can get my hands on, airing out around my bedroom, and
quietly masturbate to his scent.


>>).:.(<<

PAUL

The minute I can leave work I'm out the door like a cat out of water and on
my way to pick up Belinda.  I'm actually surprised that Stacey managed the
whole day with our daughter, figuring that Belinda would become more than
she could handle at some point.  I figured I'd be taking Belinda off of her
grandparents and Stacey would be out somewhere.  I remain civil as I
collect Belinda but it's an inner struggle.  Stacey's parents helped to
have her parental rights terminated, but that doesn't make them friendly to
me.  I'm still the one that got their daughter pregnant, and I think her
dad would still like to get his bare hands around my throat.

When I get home things go pretty well.  I had hoped the shame from my
extended family and my parents friends, all members of our church, would
lead to a truce between me and my parents.  For the most part it does,
albeit more tenuous with my mother.  While I've been out today James has
moved into our older brother's bedroom and he'll only have to share when
one of our brothers is on leave.  My parents expectation is that I will not
waste money applying for college, start work full time at Wal-Mart under my
Daddy the day after I graduate high school and save up enough to rent a
place of my own by next Christmas.  In return they, mostly Mama, will
babysit Belinda for me when needed as she doesn't work anyways.  My plan is
quite different but I pretend to be grateful and accept their terms.

In the morning I pack Belinda up and head over to Jon's.  Mrs. Wilson is
going to watch my games today and while Jackie is at work with Jon, and
while I'm playing she will take care of Belinda for me.  Jon's worked the
schedule so that he only has two short shifts at work after today for the
remainder of Duncan's visit, but for the day today Duncan is my
responsibility.  As he's played hockey since he was 4 I invited him to play
in the tournament I'm playing in, so today should be pretty fun.

When I get to Jon's house Larry is replacing the old mailbox with a new one
Charlene wanted for Christmas.  He does a double take as I park.  When I
get inside with Belinda I think I understand why.  Above Pink Floyd's `Wish
You Were Here' playing on Charlene's radio, upstairs I can hear Duncan
playing Soul Asylum's `Runaway Train' on Baroness.  He actually sounds half
decent.

As I enter Jon's room and drop Belinda in her crib I startle him with my
observation, "You're halfway decent."

"Uh, thanks, I think," he responds.

We have a couple hours before our first game so I figure we can play
guitars for a bit.  I really want to play Storm, another acoustic guitar my
uncle built for me for Christmas done in cherry sunburst, along with
Renegade, a vintage cherry electric ES – 330.  I'm dying to play both
actually, but grab Windy as she's on hand, and find out what Duncan likes
and knows.  We decide on the song I just heard on the radio.  I teach him
some chords and we mess around with the song until it's time to pack up the
hockey bags and head to the arena for our first of two games today.

When we get to the arena and are dressed and ready to hit the ice there are
only ten of us and two goalies.  We don't meet the minimum number of
players so Jackie and Wayne's team has to forfeit the game, and thus have
no chance of advancing out of the round robin.  The other team asks if we
still want to play, for fun, and everyone votes yes.

Worried he'll sound out of place, any time Duncan talks while we're at the
arena, he does it with his attempt at a Texan accent.  Not knowing a
mouthguard is standard in this league, he begs a couple pieces of gum off
one of the guys and molds them around his front teeth to make it look at a
glance like he's wearing one.  He also pulls out the cup from his shorts
and slips in the yellow one from Jon's sock and underwear drawer, the one I
know he gave Jon.

He also has to use a right handed stick, although he's a lefty, because
Jackie is listed in the roster as a righty. Even so, Duncan is dynamite on
the ice.  He can clearly skate and pass better than anyone on the ice.  His
give and go's are right on the tape and his first shot is a lazer of a
wrist shot right between the goalie's knees to the back of the net.  After
his first shift I tell him, "You might want to tone it down a little, if
you make Jackie look like a superstar the other teams will figure out
you're not really him and we'll all be in trouble."

Duncan nods his head, "Aight-yo.  But just so you know, I was toning it
down already.  It's hard to not look good going around Tiny, the three
thousand pound blob of a defenceman.  He's about as fast as molasses
running uphill in the winter.  And their goalie is weak; after I helped him
up he saved face by making it clear he's usually a forward but switched
with their goalie since this game counts for shit."

"Ya, but you snowed him," I point out.

The only time Duncan ditches his weak Texan accent is for a perfect proud
Cartman voice, "Yeah, I did!  But I apologized!  When I helped him up I was
all like `peace-yo, bro.  Sorry, just got new skates for Christmas and the
dick sharpened them too high.'  It could be true, kinda is, but I maybe put
a little extra into the snow-job just for fun too.  Still, wobbly-legs in
net there bought it, and that's all that counts.  He's nuts are probably
just happy I didn't go a little higher 5-hole.  Good thing no one on their
team decided to protect him and mess up my handsome face."

We lose the game 7-5, Duncan scored three goals in the first period and one
early in the second before he started purposely bouncing shots off the
goalie's pads.  I collect a couple assists as one of his line-mates. After
we leave the arena we stop by Wal-Mart so that Duncan can get a mouth
guard.  When we're driving back to Jon's I ask, `What's with the voices.
You're Texan accent is weak."

He switches to a much better Texas drawl, "Well yeah!  That's because it's
my Georgia accent.  When you handed Queen B here over to her, his mom
mentioned Jackie's family is from there, so I was playing cousin Duncan
from Atlanta."

"Oh. Well they're from Savannah."

"Yer boss, there too," Duncan starts in hillbilly, and then switches to his
natural voice, "I don't know.  I think sometimes my voice sounds really
super-fabulous.  You know, gay?  Not like a lisp or anything, just normally
a little bit stereotypical gay.  And when I get excited, well fuck me if my
voice doesn't sometimes scream gay.  I don't try to sound this way, but
I've also given up trying not to.  It's just my natural voice and back home
I'm really lucky to be accepted.  But you know, here's different so I was
just acting in character, and putting a specific voice to it so that I
didn't slip up and get our asses kicked for being gay.  Notice I wore this
wet and gross undershirt before, during, and after the game?  Even into
Wal-Mart.  I have a tattoo on my shoulder that is filled in with the
rainbow for anyone that looks close enough."

"Oh.  I didn't know.  And I really don't think your voice sounds gay.  Your
accent is different enough that I just took it as Canadian."

"Yeah, well.  What can you do?  If you get to come for school, you'll
clearly hear the difference between me and other Vancouverites.  Could be
worse, at least I'm not a sore thumb in Cow Town."

"Cow Town?"

"Yeah, Calgary.  Bunch of cowboys, but a different accent than you Texan
cow pokes.  Heading east there's a Prarie accent, a Hog Town accent, a
French accent, a Maritime accent and a Newfie accent.  Oh, and Native
Canadian, but I never try theirs because I think it's a little
disrespectful, and they have to have different regional inflections too."

"So you're like what, a man of a thousand voices?"

"Hardly, but it's one of my more annoying habits.  Or so I'm told.  I hear
an accent and I want to perfect it.  I hear a language and I want to learn
it.  I used to piss my friends off sometimes when I'm always speaking in
voices or actually flat-out speaking in another language.  Now they just
live with it.  It's me."

"Speaking of language, even though it's English, you Canucks have a
language all of your own.  Hog-town?"

"Yeah, that's Toronto.  I think the early western settlers used it as a
foil.  They said it was because Toronto is where they shipped their pigs to
be slaughtered, but really it was because they quietly thought of
Torontonians and Ontarians as pigs."

"Ontarians?"

"Yeah, Ontario, it's the province Toronto is in.  I'm from British
Columbia.  A province to us is like a state to you."

"Oh, so that's what the name of the university means.  That makes a lot
more sense now!"

"Just wait 'till you get there and discover how many words we stick a
silent letter `u' in.  Then nothing will make sense to you anymore!  I
swear, spell-check hates Canadians."

"Jon says that it's a lot easier to be gay there.  Is it easier?"

"Without a doubt I can promise you it is.  How much easier depends.  The
older generations are more rigid, but from like my parents' generation and
down, I don't know yo, it's like not that big of a deal.  Maybe not for
everyone our age 'cause everyone has their own circumstances, but my
friends, like every last one of them except two, don't give a rat's ass
that I like guys.  They all knew before I ever confirmed it, and were super
chill.  No word of a lie, some of the girls love the fact that I'm gay.
One even was my beard.  We were supposedly boyfriend and girlfriend, and
when she caught me with my first, well, only boyfriend, she was so awesome.

She pointed out that one of many clues was that I'd unconsciously flinch
any time one of her boobs came in any casual contact with me.  While I was
using her, she was using me because she knew I was safe, and she didn't
really want a boyfriend.  She definitely likes boys and is shockingly
graphic, usually in German so no one but me understands, but she had a lot
of other things going on in her life at the time and I was a good cover.
So, who showers first or do we shower together?"

It's a good thing I just parked and turned the car off, "What?"

"You know, shower?  Steamy bathroom, you get nekkid, I get nekkid, I wash
your back, you wash mine, I grope you, you grope me, we make messy in the
tub?  Chill out dude, I'm only kidding!  Haha, you're too funny; I can't
even keep a straight face with you about ready to have a conniption over
there!  Like, seriously, I don't want your head to explode.  Just kidding
you for shits and giggles.  Peace yo!  Although Jon's right; you're
actually super cute when you blush.  You guys are both lucky to have each
other, and I'd never, not ever, do anything to mess with that.  That's like
the lowest of the low.  I warned you already; Ima tease you, but I'd never
be that kind of douche to follow through on what I say for shock value."

Jon's also right about Duncan, he is very quick witted.  I can't help but
laugh as I get Belinda out of her seat, "Let's air out this stuff on the
back deck and then you can have first shower."

Duncan' right back at it.  Pointing at a raccoon watching us from the roof
of a neighbour's shed, he says. "Aight yo.  I'll get started with this
stuff, and you can give that little darling some daddy time.  If your jock
goes missing though, Ima be upfront, I blame that raccoon."

"If my hockey shorts go missing I'm not checking to see if he's covering
his Texas toothpick with it!"

"His what now?"

"His toothpick."

"You guys seriously call your junk Texas toothpicks?"

"Nah.  Raccoons have real bones in their penises.  If you trap and kill
any, you're supposed to take out its love bone and dry it.  Then you put it
on a string and give it to a girl that you like."

"And exactly what does she do with a raccoon's dried penis?"

"Just the bone from it, not the whole thing.  She wear's it."

Duncan picks up my jock and cups it to himself, "Naturally.  Of course she
does, how silly of me!  Fuck that shit yo!  Can you say eww, gross?  I'll
just stick to human boners, the bigger the better, and hope to get back out
of this crazy state with my stuff intact yo!"

I'm taken aback that he just did that, even if his shorts and boxers were
between my shorts and his dick.  I have a little edge to my voice as I grab
them back off him and set them down to dry in the sun, "If my hockey shorts
go missing I'm wearing yours for the next game and you can go without."

"Hey, if you wanna trade all you have to do is ask.  I'm down with that,"
He jokes.

"I'll pass.  I did see your switch cups at the arena."

"Jon gave it back for today.  I always liked the way it fit."

"I'm not sure how I feel about it so I change the focus, "I thought you
have a guy back home for that?"

"Yeah.  But it's complicated.  I hate complicated.  I just wish he loved me
back the same way I love him.  Like you and Jon.  Sorry for getting all
emotional.  And sorry for being so, spazzy, on you all day.  I get too
carried away some times, that's nothing new.  I thought I'd have calmed
down by now though.  I think it stems from a twinge of jealousy of you and
Jon.  You guys have something special, I can see it already.  Then there's
a couple I met on the plane yesterday.  But yeah, like I said I get carried
away sometimes.  It's who I am I guess.  Sorta like when I sent my baseball
stuff in the mail to Jon.  Oops.  Um, you know about that right?"

"Yeah I know.  We just talked about it."

"Oh yeah, so we did.  And you're cool with that?"

In the moment I decide, "Yup."

"Cool-yo.  You're saying yes through your mouth but I'm hearing a definite
hells-no from the rest of you.  Ima drop it now."

After Duncan and I each have quick showers we form his mouth guard and then
get back to the guitars.  He's so excited that I am left handed too that I
can't hold out on him; I break out Merlin, my iced tea finished Les Paul.
Duncan is intently focused on learning the Eric Clapton part of the Beatles
`While My Guitar Slowly Weeps' when his cell phone rings.

As Duncan talks on the phone my mind wanders to the second guitar I got for
Christmas, Renegade, the vintage cherry ES-330, and how it would be perfect
for this song, until Duncan gets my attention, "Yo Paul?  I know I've only
been here for 24 hours and came to visit Jon and you, but I met these two
guys on the flight down here, they're staying in a hotel downtown, and
they're actually a pretty cool couple.  I told them to call me and maybe we
could all go out for dinner one night or something.  Are you cool with
that?  I could tell them no.  I don't know what Jon would say, I forgot to
mention it last night."

"For sure, go for it.  You could go tonight or tomorrow, or if you want to
go when Jon or I are working," I trail off.

I know part of this whole visit for Jon and Duncan is to feel connected to
a friend that's also gay.  To be honest despite Duncan's obvious crush on
Jon, and I'm thinking Jon's attraction to him, I too was looking forward to
getting to know another gay guy, especially one who lives where we're most
likely going to be going to college.  In that regard I can see why Duncan
wants to hang out with two more gay guys that he just met.  I don't want to
stand in the way of that, even if I do think it's more than a little rude.

Duncan obviously feels the same way, "Don't you guys don't want to come
too?  Strength in numbers, you know?  I was really hoping we all could meet
up.  I'll pay for Jon and Belinda and you, if you come.  In fact, I won't
go unless you guys come too.  I'll just tell them no, you guys are being
hella cool to me and I'm being rude."

As I said earlier, I'd actually like to get to know Duncan and this is
obviously part of who he is.  And being around another gay couple would
actually be nice.  Not exactly strength in numbers as Duncan suggests, but
feeling normal and just being with our own kind is appealing.  I take a
gamble, "No, don't.  We're in.  And you're our guest, we'll pay for you.
Just have to figure out where and when.  I'm not out and you don't strike
me as obvious, but I don't want anyone to know.  We still have 6 months
left here.  Do you think they're obvious."

"Nah," Duncan says for benefit of them hearing over the phone but
immediately begins tilting his head from shoulder to shoulder as if
contemplating, and fluttering his free hand in a `so-so' manner.

I suggest, "Well if they're downtown, Jon used to work at a restaurant that
way.  We could do dinner there tonight or meet up anytime tomorrow."

Duncan makes the plans for tonight and uses me to give directions.  I call
the restaurant but they don't take reservations, so Duncan calls the guys
back and asks them if they mind going a little earlier to get our name on
the list if there's a wait.  With Jon finishing work at five it's the only
way it'll work tonight.

After everything is set we play a few other songs on the acoustic guitars
until it's time to head back to the arena.  For this game we have one less
player, but the goalie that played in net the first game has player
equipment too, so we offer the other team to play just for fun.

This game is nothing like the last game.  We lose 14-4 with Duncan
collecting two unassisted goals this time.  In the dressing room afterwards
he is the center of attention.  I've played with or against all of these
guys over the years as this was our home arena for house league.  Only a
handful of the guys go to the same school as me, and of those guys, we get
along fine.  Everyone seems to buy Duncan's Georgia accent and that he's
Jackie's cousin.  I'll have to fill Jackie in on that tidbit as soon as
possible.

He handles the attention fine, but when we leave he mentions, "I stuck out
like a sore thumb.  Still, it's too bad I only got two games outta these
skates."

When we reach the parking lot someone says something in another language
that stops Duncan in his tracks, the guy is saying to a friend, "Blick auf
diese zwei sind hintern freunde." (Look at those two butt-buddies.)

Duncan looks at the guy and fires back, "Wunschdenken?"  (Wishful
thinking?)

That's where I recognize the one guy from, my ex Stacey.  He points at me,
"Tunte." (Faggot.)

Duncan only says, "Wo?"  (Where?)

"Ihr freund," The mouthy one says. (Your friend.)

Duncan is fluent in whatever language they're speaking and fires back, "Sie
wissen er hat eine Tochter?"  (You know he has a daughter?)

Still staring at Stacey's friend, Duncan quickly adds, "Fick dich."  (Fuck
yourself.)

"Arscholoch!"  (Mother fucker!)

Duncan is a solid guy.  Through a thin tee-shirt that is damp and stuck to
his body you can clearly see that he is chiseled with defined arms,
shoulders, and chest.  He drops my hockey bag, straightens his shoulders,
puffs up his chest a little and stares hard at the guy.  He makes a quick
move like he's about to throw a punch and the other guy flinches.  It's
clear by his tone that he's threatening the guy, "Nur verhandeln.  Nicht so
denken, Muschi."  (Just try me.  Didn't think so, pussy.)

Then Duncan drops his guard and clasps the two guys on their shoulders,
"Guys!  Peace-yo!  Lemme be honest.  I'm just messin with ya'll 'cause you
guys speak it and I love talking tough in it.  I mean really, it's so
intense even `I love you' sounds angry in it.  It's all like; how was your
day, spit!  My day was boring, spit!  Well that's too bad, my day was
great, spit!  Pass the salt, spit!  Here you go, spit!  Thank you, spit!
You're welcome, spit!  I mean it for real; no language is cooler than that!
It's the fricken bomb and I never get to use it."

The guys laugh, "Arscholoch!"  (Mother fucker!)

Picking up the bag of equipment, he makes a bee-line for my car, "Haha.
Ima jet with Paul, we're on a schedule.  Catch ya'll next game.  You guys
are good, too bad not enough guys are showing up.  We coulda won that one."

We're on the road minutes after we came off the ice, opting again to shower
at Jon's when we get there.  I ask him, "What was I missing back there that
you guys were fighting over in Russian?"

"I only know a few words and phrases in Russian.  French is the language of
love, while that, that angry language was German.  Someday I'm going to
visit there.  Have a schnitzel on a bun with some sauerkraut in the shadow
of the Berlin Wall.  So yeah, when fucktard called us butt-buddies to his
friend, I called him on it.  Then he corrected it to just you, so I told
him you have a daughter.  Then I told him to fuck himself.  He called me a
motherfucker, and I told him to just try me.  When he flinched I taunted
him and said I didn't think so and called him a pussy.  Then I smooth
talked them so your friend doesn't take shit over it."

Spotting a McDonald's sign a millisecond later, he switches gears, "Damn
I'm hungry.  The second Jiffy gets home we're dragging him by his
short-and-curlys to dinner.  Hell, if he's home I'll even skip a shower and
go smelling like this.  Everyone else can just enjoy the smell of you and
me.  And hey, you and Jon can tolerate me, so I know you guys will love
Bailey and Neville.  They are so opposite me.  Well, the one is; Neville.
He's all zen-like, calm, and collected.  At first he was all spastic like
me, but he calmed down in minutes.  I think he's a man of few words too,
direct and to the point.  And tall, shit is he tall!  He's like six and a
half feet.  Just a gentle, quiet giant.  I think he's more the wallflower
type; you know, sits back and observes, adds a deep thought here or there.
Of course I'm clearly not a man of few words.  Now Bailey on the other
hand, I can see him being a total spinner like me."

Duncan has been wound tighter than a juiced ball, "Those two guys really
upset you, huh?"

"Yeah.  It's that noticeable, huh?  I had a couple friends that were like
that.  They're the guys I told you about earlier.  Seriously, other than
one dipshit at school that turned out to be cool, they're the only two guys
that ever really gave me any crap, but they sure gave it to me.  They quit
our band over me.  Well, the rest of the guys told them not to come back.
I stopped playing hockey because of them though.  The made me feel
so...wrong.  Powerless.  Sorry.  I tried not to react."

Maybe Duncan's right.  Strength in numbers.  And I'm not just talking about
dinner tonight.  I think going to school in Canada, and being accepted
might really be a good thing beyond a way for me to disappear from my
family.


>>).:.(<<

Yes!  I know it's just Hallowe'en right now and this chapter takes place
around Christmas.  That's what happens I guess when I fall a couple months
shy of two years behind in posting.  Bad me.  I am comitted to finishing
the story and have the remaining 5 chapters of Wings of Tomorrow now
complete and in varying stages of revision.  For a sneak peak email:
phantomscorpio77-subscribe@yahoogroups.ca or go to:
http://ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/phantomscorpio77

Cheers,

~Jade