Date: Sun, 1 Jun 2014 21:33:14 -0400 From: Jade Subject: Gay/High School : In the Shadow of Our Lives - Wings of Tomorrow 13 Copyright © 2013-2014 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.) Nifty would like our help to continue to provide us with wonderful stories. Please donate if you can. >>).:.(<< In the Shadows of Our Lives Part 2 - Wings of Tomorrow XIII ~ The Getaway Plan ~ "I'm the shiver that runs up your spine, A strange kind of piece of your mind. You've been lonely, I'm the only. I know you're damaged goods, You did the best you could. I think you understand, (I'm) the getaway plan." The Getaway Plan, by Europe >>).:.(<< JON It's been a month since Larry gave Paul a set of keys for his house to use whenever he needs. Since then Paul hasn't used them once. He's going to stick it out at home and save every dollar he can. We're both going to try to save as much as possible from here on out. Although we finished one time without condoms, they're one area we're not tightening the wallet on. And lube. Our most frequent recreational activities is sex. It's still new, and highly addictive. Paul's cleaning up right now after a very quiet, very quick morning session. Last night's sex was in celebration of me getting my driver's license. This morning's sex was for fun. I'm sitting up with my back to the wall at the head of the bed. I can't believe how quickly things happen after nothing seems to have happened for like, well, forever. Life was slowly becoming routine for me leading up to Thanksgiving. I had two jobs and went to school. I mostly hung out with Tim at school because Neil and he were fighting. Outside of school we spent all our free time together. Then Paul and I managed to hook up. The next week Chris's friend and secret boyfriend from years ago committed suicide. I ended up quitting my job at the restaurant to be with Chris through that time. I ran into Matt Johnson at that funeral, holding hands with his boyfriend Eric. So they are the gay guys a year behind us at school it seems. Good for them that they found each other. I'll keep their secret. The day after Christmas I caught Kevin online. We apologized to each other for the way things went down, him seeing an opportunity to get head, and me a chance to see if his dick was as big as I pictured it. He explained his Messenger name that has read `Las Vegas bound..." for nearly a week. Apparently, just like that, Kevin's parents had decided it was time to move on again. Five days later his name suddenly changed to `Say hey, Santa Fe! Happy New Year!' It turns out they ended up settling there rather than in Las Vegas as they had planned. I long ago forgave him for taking advantage of me, but by that time it was too late. He was falling in with the stoners and we stopped talking anyway. I felt like a shit for how things happened between us. Tim really liked him for some reason and I fucked up that friendship on them. I also took Paul's `gay virginity' around a month ago. Then I taught him what it's like to ride my dick. After the first time, we had sex every night for over a week and I can safely say that I am quite happy being a bottom to my stud of a boyfriend. We're pretty well matched in endowment; I'm just a little thicker than him, he's just a little longer than me. Neither of us are porn star measurements, but we are both satisfyingly adequate. I quite like his penis actually, and have been full-on in love with my own for a good long time now! At any rate, based on the past month, when we start fooling around I'd say we fit together very, very well. After he slips into bed, he sits with his back to my front and lets me wrap our bodies together. I broach a subject we haven't really talked about yet, "These last few weeks mean everything to me, you know that?" "Huh?" He evasively replies. Trying to judge his feelings I go fishing, "You, me, us. Sex. I just want to know if you're nervous or unsure of yourself, like you don't know if we should have done it." By the sudden tilt of his head I know he rolls his eyes at me, "No. I've been thinking you're the one who's probably nervous; worried if I am going to go running back to girls or something. I'm not." "So you enjoy it," I ask. "I get off each time don't I," He points out. I counter, "Doesn't mean you enjoy it. You could still get off and decide you don't like it." He shakes his head and dismisses that thought, "What was it like for you, your first time?" I reflect, "Shitty. We were quick and quiet, and after I think Daniel had a big problem with it. He had to come to terms a lot longer than me. All the while I just needed him to tell me he loved me to make it all seem okay. He wasn't very supportive at all when I think of it now. I love you, you know?" "I love you too. Sorry Daniel was a jerk," Paul says, pulling my arms tighter around him and leaning back against me with his head resting back on my shoulder. I whisper into his ear, "I'm not. He showed me how not to be to you. If I'm happy we're having sex and think you're the greatest thing in my life I should let you know. No pressure but I want thousands of repeat performances from you as we grow old together." My heart flutters that I don't even have to look at him to know that his eyes are closed as he says, "No, you're sort of right. I thought it was such a big deal, sleeping with you. If you were just some guy it would have been. But when it was actually happening, I distinctly remember the way you were reacting. So into it, so sexy. I realized that I made a big deal over such a small issue. I felt stupid for my inhibitions as soon as we connected. Not because I was horny, but because I didn't feel any regret at all being in you, or having you in me." Of course I do lean forward and check his eyes, just to confirm my thoughts. They are in fact closed as he rests his head against mine. I ask, "And that's different than before?" When we talk about our feelings Paul has a tendency to talk quieter, almost as if it has to be a hushed conversation so that I know he's talking only to me, "Well, yeah. If I loved Stacey maybe it would have seemed right. I thought I could marry a girl and settle down, repress the gay thoughts. But I felt regret when we had sex because I didn't love her. And truthfully? I felt nothing at all when I fucked her. Nothing like tonight or any other night. Just promise me now that we've gone there that I didn't make a mistake falling in love with you." I emphatically tell him, "You didn't make a mistake in stealing my heart. It's the greatest thing to happen to me." "I love you Jonny," He says. He's working on a new pet name for me. He had taken to calling me Hun, short for Honey, but it's not man enough for him. Neither is it when I call him Babes. Watching him squirm when I call him that is just a tad evil, but also a tad fun! "I love you Babes," I state in return. "P! That's what Jackie and my brother James call me. People I actually care about. Can you call me that too? It's more manly than Babes." >>).:.(<< PAUL As I rest in Jon's arms I reflect. First off, I never thought I'd be the one being held. I always assumed I'd be the dominant one in my relationships. The strong one. The one doing the holding. Strangely, its rather comforting to realize I was wrong. It's comforting to know that Jon and I are equals. We can both be strong, and we can both be comforted. The fact that I can allow myself to accept him being stronger in ways excites me as much as that he is in fact stronger than me in those ways. Equals. It's so right. I'm getting to the point I feel I can let out my fears to him without reservation. My plan is the main fear. The plan is starting to fall into place and Jon is aware of it on some levels. I guess as we're looking over the information for the University of British Columbia I should fill him on the dangerous parts of my plan. British Columbia, I like the sound of the name, I have hope that life there truly is drastically different than here. I'm putting all my eggs in one basket on this one. It's the only University I plan on applying to. Sure, as far as my parents know I'm enlisting, but I have no intention of serving even if UBC falls through. No matter what, I am leaving my personal hell in the heartland forever. I'll be leaving my family without so much as a goodbye. They don't even know who I am. I'm just number 6 of 7 in the house full of boys. My brothers don't know me, my parents don't know me. Worse, I can't let them know me because of their intense hate for homosexuals. I've thought about leaving a note telling them that I am gay and they won't ever see me again when I leave. But they aren't even worth that. It won't spark any sense of loss to them, it would just give them closure. I idly run my hands along his legs that are spread out next to mine and broach the subject, "Jonny Appleseed, my life isn't going to be like the Phil Collin's song `Father To Son'. When I leave, there's never going to be any turning back. Think of it more as Soul Asylum's `Runaway Train'. I know I've said so, but I need to stress how serious I am. My family can't stand our kind. I won't ever be giving them the chance to tell me what they think of me. I won't be going back home to ring that bell. Not ever. My life forever becomes my own the day I leave. It's Belinda and me, and now you too, if you're ready for it. That's it. That's all. Slip out in the dead of night and leave forever. Never go there again, never call. No matter what happens." Jon grimaces at my pet name for him but I didn't like Babes and Hun. I know he doesn't like Jonny, or Jonny Appleseed, but it just comes. I guess it's better than Tim calling him Cheesedick, but not by much. "You sure you can do that," Jon asks, his chin resting over my collarbone and his arms snug around my chest. I nod and go on, "No weddings, no funerals, no Christmas cards, no birthdays. The only thing they'll ever get is Belinda's school pictures with the school info cut out and no return address. And I'll send that by some obscure method so that the postage won't give away where I am. Maybe to one of your sisters here, with a second envelop to send on, or something like that. We'll visit your family as much as you want, but I will avoid my family ever seeing me at all costs." Jon gently brushes his fingers up the inside of my forearm to the inside of my elbow. He knows this makes me shiver with desire, "I'm sorry P. I wish it didn't have to be this way." "You and me both, you and me both. I've wished at least a thousand nights now that my family wasn't so blindly religious and contemptuous of us. Even before I first saw you and developed a crush on ya. I knew then that I would be as good as dead to them anyways. So why not be dead to them on my terms. If they can be so cruel, so can I. I can keep them worrying for as long as they might. I can break my mother's heart a second time." "What about your brothers?" "Nah, my brothers don't matter to me. Only J does a little, but we'll both manage. Daddy doesn't even deserve the peace of mind that Belinda's alive and well. I'll even write her name and age on the back of the pictures so that they know it's from me. I'll sign it number 6 of 7 just so they can't deny that I am their son," I reveal. "Well, number 6 of 7, you'll have me," Jon says with a sympathetic look. I laugh, "They named me wrong, you know. Of all the Apostles they'd like to think their sons are, I should have been named Judas. I'll never be the saint I'm named after. How twisted that they named all seven sons after Apostles. I'm sure Mama wanted to go for a clean sweep and have four more boys so that she could have given birth to all 11 of the `good Apostles'." I don't really want to concentrate on that so I show Jon my collection of guitars that I have begun to stash in his room. Aside from Belinda, my babies are guitars. I have 6 over at his house right now. Jon knows `Windy', my favourite acoustic guitar, a honey-finish J185 which I keep at his place. Daddy nags me to bring her home and play with him, but I don't intend to. I have a cherry sunburst acoustic named `Storm' that I want to hide away at Jon's too, but Daddy uses `Storm' when he performs weekly so I have unfortunately abandoned her. At least for now, and yes, Daddy is a southpaw like me. Instead I managed to sneak away Daddy's Les Paul electric/acoustic with a tangerine-sunburst-finish. So for now `Sunset' is mine in place of `Storm'. I have a root-beer-finish electric Les Paul Supreme named `Jailbird'. I open the case and introduce him to Jon. `Jailbird' got his name from my brother Luke, because his dark wood finish has a distinctly visible tiger-striped effect joined in the centre, like on a tabby cat and thus almost looking like the bars of a jail cell. In a rare moment of brotherly love, Luke had Uncle Ron make him as a gift when Belinda was born. As I am the first owner of `Jailbird' I hold him dearest. His deep tone also happens to be my favourite. I do have another electric Les Paul Standard, an iced-tea-finish beauty hidden here with my Marshall amps. He's like a pale version of the Les Paul's you see the guys in Guns `N Roses playing with the best maple wood grain ever. Head on you can see the distinct grain, from an angle it almost seems to disappear. Just looking at `Merlin' mesmerizes me. Uncle Ron made him for some left-handed musician, but whoever he intended it for signed a signature series with Epiphone instead. I named him Merlin after the fabled wizard and mentor of King Arthur because he has a deft and nimble yet commanding voice, just like the legendary Merlin. I also have a cracked mirror finish Flying V named Viper who I am working on mastering. `Viper' is not a very forgiving guitar. I can play songs I already know, but so far I'm not too good at making my own riffs on him. My last guitar that I show Jon is `Scorpio'. He is a wine red double-cut SG. Sonically, this line is Gibson's closest answer to Fender's Stratocaster. I'd love a Strat someday, but that would mean becoming more familiar with `Scorpio' first. One thing for sure, he can rock! Yes. I have a lot of guitars and not only that but they would all be fairly pricey too. The way my family gets guitars is through my uncle Ron, who followed my grandfather into the wood craftsmanship trade at a young age. Where Grandpa was a carpenter, Uncle Ron ended up working in Gibson U.S.A.'s Nashville plant, hand making guitars. The authentic, unlabeled guitars that we have amassed are all through him, whether they were prototypes of a reissue, or just left behind and forgotten about by famous people with money. Aside from the distraction, the reason I started showing Jon my guitars is that I want to take them all with me when I run away. I have six more guitars at my parents, three more variations of Les Paul's and three different models that all have their own sound, so that I have tons of variety available. Hey, excuse me if it's excessive or obsessive, but at least my addiction isn't guns or drugs. As I show all my guitars to Jon I explain my passion about them, "Maybe the musician loses the music. Maybe the musician dies. But the instruments? They need to live and play another day. They need to be heard. If I died I'd want you to keep Windy. I mean, keep whatever you want and would play, Merlin maybe. Definitely keep Jailbird for Belinda. But give the rest away. Duncan maybe. They need to be played." After showing Jon all my guitars we head downstairs and take a last look over the university applications we are submitting. Satisfied we have everything to apply, I go to my car to grab `Baroness'. I plop down on the couch and start into `Runaway Train' by Soul Asylum. I play an extended version of it as Jon's thoughts drift, and then start into `Two Steps Behind' By Def Leppard. Partway through my next song, Def Leppard's `Miss You In A Heartbeat', Tim walks into the room in his baseball uniform. His rep-league team had a tournament that started Friday and they have a couple games today. I feel a little bad that he gets subjected to Jon and I both staring at the bulge in his tight baseball pants as he walks in on us. Cupping his bulge at us, he winks and asks, "It's Sunday today so that means no work for either of my boyfriends. You guys gonna come and cheer my sweet ass on to victory?" "Only if we get to help celebrate in that ass later on tonight," Jon fires back while nodding to Tim's midsection. Tim teases on, "Suit yourself. A friend gave me this great lube that I just can't get enough of. No more friction burn! I think my ass will manage the celebration just fine by itself like usual, but you still can come and check me and the uglier boys out in the name of America's favourite past time all the same!" "We would, but we've got someone coming by to go over our applications," I start to explain. Jon jumps in, "Yeah, Larry has some guy from Houston University coming over for us to fill out some forms for the student sponsorship program they're working on for the school we're applying to," Jon explains. "Vancouver? You guys really are dead set on that on, huh?" "Pretty much, yeah," I admit. Jon cuts in, warning Tim, "Watch some of the words. She picks up on some and tries to repeat everything now. We don't need his parents overhearing the country to the north of us pop out. They don't know." Tim turns to leave, saying over his shoulder, "Gotcha. Well, wish me luck. And come watch if you can. Someday soon, you'll have to pay to see me play. Unless you support me now. Then I'll pay for you to see me." >>).:.(<< Every detail has been laid out for us. It's just a matter of actually getting accepted to the University of British Columbia. Mr. Milner got in touch with a Chrysler dealer in Vancouver. He is going to buy my car off of me and help secure a car for us there. On our way to Canada we're going to rent a van through Jon's Ma as neither of us are legally old enough to. We'll drop the van off back in Seattle once we've unloaded, and then make our way to the dealership to pick up our new car. The whole reason we are getting a car there is that speedometers and odometers on cars in Canada are different than the ones here in America. The car is going to be in Jon's name so as to avoid my parents being able to find me. Charlene is going to give us a cheque to put up any difference between the value of my car and the car we are going to get. It's quite a gift from her. Sitting in Jon's kitchen things get interesting. Larry's friend from the University got in touch with someone at UBC for us, and this guy in Vancouver sent us all the information about student housing. Originally when Jon told Duncan about getting housing through the school, Duncan had thought that we would be able to rent something cheap through the housing ads listed in the school, not knowing that all out-of-town first year students have to live in school operated dorms. The contact from Vancouver sent us information for housing that he says is tailor made for us called Barrett Hall. The story behind Barrett Hall is that it is named after a pro football player and former student of UBC, Michael Barrett. From UBC Barrett played in the Canadian Football League, a few years in the NFL, and then back in the CFL before injuries ended his career. Retired now for many years, that's not all there is about him. He came out of the closet a number of years ago and got involved with groups like GLAD (Gays and Lesbians Against Discrimination) and a gay alumni group that benefits the school. But that's not what got him involved in student housing. He got into investing and made some good money. He heads another group of alumni that bought and donated an old department store to the university, and it eventually got turned into a dorm bearing his name. As all first year students have to stay in residence if they are from out of town, what works for us is that this dorm is a residence set up for situations like us. The group of university alumni got together and put up the money to renovate the old store into a school dormitory. It is officially listed as a special needs dormitory and openly caters to gay students, although importance is placed on students that are disabled, or young parents. As such, we hope to qualify as a gay couple with a child. Every student requiring housing fills out a screening form after acceptance to the university that gears them to the best accommodation. Where we stand our best chance of legitimately being accepted is the family angle, as I am a father. It's not at all any stretch of the truth there, I am a special needs student in that regard as I am a father and need to have housing that accommodates Belinda. Where we stand to lose the chance is that I'm only applying as a part-time student while Jon is applying as a full time student. If this works though, it means that Jon and I are actually going to get to stay together, in the same room! Hopefully I'll be able to manage it all. Failing that, we'll have to make the best of whatever we end up with. If we get assigned different rooms, we'll explain the situation to our roommates and see if one of them will officially, or unofficially, swap rooms with us. >>).:.(<< JON We have enough time to make it to Tim's last game. I'm happy that they won their semifinal earlier today so that I could actually come and support him. I couldn't care less about the sport, but Tim lives for it. It is a part of Paul's life too, and a part of how we got together. Like last summer when the school team won whatever championship it was they played at the old Astrodome. Ah, memories. The game they won to get into the finals, that's the one Paul gave me a ride home from. In his baseball uniform. His awesome sweaty body in his game-dirty uniform! His lean and powerful legs repositioning the cup in his crotch as he'd shift or brake. That cup making such a beckoning bulge that he caught me staring at it. And even though he liked me and knew I was mesmerized by his crotch, he was too shy to say something like, `hey, if you like staring at it that much, do you want to see what I'm packing beneath the plastic?' As I drive Paul's car to Tim's game I playfully ask, "Hey, remember that time you gave me a ride home from the baseball game?" "Good times," Paul says with a huge smile. "Kay, so if you caught me perving on you, and you liked me, why didn't you maybe invite me to stop looking at it and start sucking on it or something? I thought I grossed you out! Clearly I didn't. Like, I'd hope I was maybe causing there to be less room in your cup, but you acted like you didn't catch me stare." "I was hard when we were sharing the joint, not exactly comfortable, but so worth it. It was the closest I thought I'd ever come to kissing you, putting my lips where yours were. I didn't even want to smoke, to be honest. But, you were with Chris. I was resolved to just playing it straight and then disappearing after graduation." "Aww! I think that's the sweetest thing I've ever been told. That you'd endure a painful erection just for me!" "Yup. You know we're going to have to really sensor our conversations as Queen B learns to talk. And I know you have your license now, but maybe keep both eyes on the road?" I am concentrating on the road, and not grinding the gears, but a realization just popped into my head, "Wait just a second there P. Is that why you wanted to share a joint back at the Beach Bash on April Fool's Day? And why you took my beer bottle off me and gave me another? Were you trying to swap spit then too?" "Nah. Both were just lucky happenstance. I really wanted to get a little high that night, and yes, maybe stare at you. And the beer was just having fun on you," Paul insists. "Love you P," I wink at him. He winks back, "Love you too, Jonny." >>).:.(<< After the game Mickey comes over with Tim. Neil, Tania, Jackie and Shannon all come over for hotdogs and hamburgers. Tim steals my buttercream vanilla candle from my room. Lighting the candle on the deck in the early evening, Tim smiles at me, "There you go Farrows. My bet is paid!" All eyes are on me, "What? I beat him at bowling, kay? His wager was to cook a candlelight dinner if he lost." Jackie mock punches Tim, "Wow. You're such a romantic! If frozen dogs and burgers with a crowd is you're idea of an intimate candle lit dinner then I had nothing to worry about with you and Nat." "Especially seeing as how I cut up all the condiments and made the salad," I goad. Jackie teases Tim, "You better marry a woman that doesn't mind doing all the work." That garners him a pinch from Shannon as Mickey echoes Jackie, "Nah. He better make it to the big leagues so that he can pay for a cook and a housekeeper. No woman is going to put up with how useless he is!" Tim fires back at Mickey, "Oh, that hurts. At least I'm not the one that's going to have Momma Dawson living with me and still doing my laundry and cleaning when I get married." Mickey laughs it off, "Hey, I'm my momma's little angel. Nothing wrong with family helping out. You leave her out of this! But you? You need a girlfriend already bro!" Tim tries to avoid that subject, "Another hot dog or burger anyone? Mickey, why don't you choke on yours for me? Hunter, you have a guitar somewhere handy don't you?" Paul pipes up, "You know who likes you? Nina Galloway." Tim scoffs, "Math club Nina?" Mickey puts his hand to Tim's face, "So what bro? She's kinda cute." "Yeah, math club Nina. She's also on the volleyball and soccer teams and has a dirty mind," Paul pushes. Mickey enthuses, "She's got abs bro! And a hot bod! Ray and I saw some of those volleyball games!" Tania speaks up, "One, that's so like you dogs to go watch girls volleyball just to see some tits bouncing. Two, refer to number one to see why you're always single!" As Mickey and Tania continue to play fight, Paul tells Tim, "Seriously. I'm partners with her again this year in AP physics and she has your name drawn in hearts on her binder." Tim blushes a bit, "Really?" Neil joins in, "Hey! Maybe you could take a page from Jon and Paul and you know, just happen to be there when she coming or going to all her classes, make ga-ga eyes at her." I shoot Neil a death stare, "Not funny." Neil snorts, "Oh my God, yes funny! I'm just happy you two wittle wost puppies finally grew some balls and got together! Now we don't have to race around school like there's a fire behind us just so you can pass Paul on a stairwell, stare into his soulful eyes, memorize what he's wearing, and check his out front or back bulges when you think we're not looking!" "Well look at him! He fills his jeans out perfectly," I protest. "I have to say he does too," Shannon agrees. Paul, Jackie and I turn to Shannon, forgotten in my banter. She brushes it off, "It's okay guys. I already suspected. I think it's hot." Jackie interjects, "But you think I'm hotter, right?" I stare Shannon down, "No one else really knows. Just a few of the other guys on the baseball team. Wayne and Ray, for sure. And Nat. That's it. It's kind of important to us, to our lives, that no one knows, kay?" "It's okay. You two are cute together. I think you're brave," Shannon suggests. Paul asks, "You're not going to tell your friends?" Her outside perspective is a bit of a blow, but at least it's honest, "Well, I'm sure it'll come up. The girls know Jackie and I were coming here. And most people sort of know. Maybe not that you're together, but that you're, you know, into other guys." I ask, "People talk about us? They think we're together?" Shannon nods, "Yes, at least since last Valentine's day people have known about you Jon. And now people whisper about you guys, and Matt Johnson and Eric Young." I ask Paul, "Remember I saw Matt at a funeral with his boyfriend? I didn't even know Eric's name or that he went to our school." Shannon tells us, "He doesn't. His parents pay for him to go to private school." That explains the connection. Eric must have gone to private school with Chris and Drew, the guy that commit suicide. Matt was there because of Eric. I won't let it go, "So how do you know about them then?" "My brother knows Matt," Shannon states. I push, "And he's okay with him?" She nods, "Yeah. There not best friends or anything, but Jamie doesn't care that Matt's gay. No one really does." "Huh," Is all I can really say. That's a new one for me. No one cares that Matt Johnson is gay. No one cares that Brent Liddle, the asshole that he is, is bisexual. Why the hell do people seem to care that Paul or I are gay? It doesn't make sense. Maybe if we just came out people would let it go. Maybe it's the gossip, and once we answer it, it would all go away. That's something to think about. But either way we can't. Paul doesn't want it getting back to his parents. So, no. We can't do that. >>).:.(<< PAUL Jon and I keep our first Valentine's Day simple. Charlene and Larry go to a nice restaurant, and Tim takes Nina on a non-Valentine's date to a movie and sundaes at McDonalds afterwards. This leaves the house to us. Following our recent chat about censoring our dirty talk in front of Belinda, we're also working on ways of having sex without the risk of her seeing or hearing her Daddy going at it. The most obvious way is to not have sex. Which just isn't going to happen. Sex is awesome, and we want it as much as we want each other. We don't really do a gift. We did the watches for Christmas. For Valentines we just take a couple pictures Nat has of us, one with Belinda, one without, and get them enlarged to 5" x 7" and framed at a local Wal-Mart. Tonight, after we sit down to the spaghetti and meatballs, garlic-cheese bread, and Caesar salad I find a way to thank him for the hearty dinner. With Belinda secured in her booster seat and tucked in to the table, I sneak under the table and unzip Jon's jeans. It's the same idea as a blanket on the side of her crib; so she doesn't see us. As I fish him out through the fly of my boxers he protests, "Not here! Not at my Ma's dinner table!" We'll see...yeah, that's what I thought! All fight is gone the moment he's in my mouth. The angle is different, and the confinement is a little problematic, but when his legs start quivering and he raises his butt off the seat I know it is working just fine. My top lip is right up against his body and my nose is tickling his abdomen when he lets out a quiet `oh shit' in time with his shooting. He later repays me on the couch, under a blanket. Before I head home we decide to hit McDonald's and share a Rolo McFlurry. A couple and their kids stare at us and the dad makes a few derogatory comments, but neither Jon or I pay him any attention. The cashier goes to our school, as do the guys at the fry and bag-packing stations. We're not doing anything more than sharing ice cream. They can take from it what they want. >>).:.(<< The next warm weekend when the guys from the school team organize a Saturday morning pick-up game Jon and I go with Tim. Jon's all proud that he's hiding my cup under the baggy baseball pants he got from Tim, and that he's got me wearing the cup he got from Duncan. I won't complain though, the thing is roomy enough that it never pinches. Sexually charged as Jon makes it, it's all about the fun when we're playing baseball, not the sex. When everybody's had about enough warming up and the late comers show up, we are all lounging on the school bleachers waiting to pick teams. Half the group isn't from the school team, and a couple girls are playing with us, but I figure it's time to finally say something. It's something Jon told me about Duncan; how he got all of his friends together for a game of pick-up hockey and told them he was gay in the dressing room before the game. I'm not as bold as Duncan, but I get my point across, "Hey guys. Thanks for not hating me. Jon and me." Mostly everyone just nods or says something generally supportive or non-committal. When sides get picked Jon and I are on different teams. It doesn't bother either of us as he knows some of the guys on his team enough to feel comfortable. It works out well this way so that Nat and Jackie on his team, or Tim on my team, can keep an eye on Belinda in the shade of the protected dug-out while one of us is batting and the other is out in the field. When my team is fielding and Jon comes up to bat, Shawn, our pitcher winks at me on first base, then taunts Jon, "Hey Farrows. If you actually hit one off me and make it to first base, I'll let you kiss my first baseman!" Shawn is a good pitcher. He has a strong fastball and can put some good movement on his pitches. Shawn is actually the guy that replaced me last year on first base when I wasn't playing. So, anyone that has played with him can see he's taking it real easy on Jon. Jon actually makes good contact with the ball and sends it over me to right field. Unfortunately Drew only has to take a couple steps to catch it. The next time Jon's up Shawn tells him, "Well I guess the prize wasn't good enough last time, but he's got some sweat worked up this time. He kind of looks sexy right now, for a guy. Ready for another try?" After a strike and fouling one off, Jon's bat makes contact with a tater-tot that Shawn throws him. Coming off the tip of the bat, the ball curves funny and gets between Ray and Tim before either can catch up to it. Dan, a spare player on the school team bare hand grabs it and fires it like a laser straight to my glove. Thankfully Jon is safely at first base when the ball hits my glove. Up next, Neil crushes the first pitch he gets for a home run. As Jon crosses home plate Shawn shakes his head at Jon, "I'm not taking it easy on your ass next time Farrows! You take my gift and make my shortstop and third baseman look like rookies and then you don't even pat my first baseman on the ass?" Jon smiles and nods at me, "Nah, he's here to play ball. I'm here because Tim and Neil tell me I have to be. And besides, isn't it supposed to be some big-boobed blonde that runs onto the field topless and tries to kiss a player?" Tim fondles his chest and jokes, "I am not taking my shirt off for you Farrows!" Ryan Chen is next up to bat once Neil crosses the plate. He's the first baseman on the team this year. He's also got a huge chest, shoulders and arms, and bleached hair. He shouts at Tim, "Who says he was talking about you?" "Yeah, but you're not a natural blonde," Tim fires back. Nat whistles loudly, "Jackie, Paul, turn away. These my boys are what the man was referring to!" I do as I'm told. I gather that Nat doesn't actually flash us, she just cups her breasts the way Tim did his chest. Of course this starts off banter that Nat feels right at home in, and can handle herself with. The chirping gets good to the point that we only play one more laugh-filled inning before the game breaks down into pure shenanigans. >>).:.(<< That afternoon I work a mind-numbing three to eleven shift. Tim watches Belinda until Jon gets home from his customary noon to six shift. When I get to Jon's house, Tim and Nina are sitting close on the couch watching the opening monologue of Saturday Night Live. I can't help myself, "Hey Tim, Hey Nina. A little advice Nina; Tim's not gay. He's just a gentleman, through and through. You're going to have to lead him. If you wait for him to make the first move you're in for a long wait." "Screw you Hunter," Tim says and throws an empty soda bottle at me. Nina simply asks, "Are you and Jon going to join us?" Tim shakes his head at me, trying to convey he didn't tell her. "Um, maybe. Depends on what he's up to," I calmly state. It's ambiguous enough isn't it? It's not saying that my boyfriend and I might join them. It could easily mean that me and my babysitter might join them. All the same, Nina scoots over closer to Tim. Jon heard me come in and is just behind me when Nina asks. He wraps one arm around me tightly and pulls me in for a quick kiss. Nina doesn't show any reaction other than to put a hand on Tim's knee, so we join them, me sitting on the opposite end of the couch and Jon sitting on the floor and using my legs as armrests. When the first break for the musical guest comes on Nina reminds Tim she has to get going. Once she has her shoes on, she peaks back into the living room. I've turned sideways and Jon is on the couch now with his butt between my legs, his head and shoulders resting on my chest and my arms around him. She waves goodnight and tells Tim that Jon and I make a good couple. Larry and Charlene are back home from Bingo by the time the musical act plays again. Tim isn't home until SNL is over and we're just getting into bed. He walks in an interrupts us in a 69, which he can clearly make out from the hallway light, "Oh wow, oops! Uh, cute ass Farrows. I'll let you two crazy kids do your thing, but I just wanted to thank you. You guys being gay scored me major points tonight. Not quite that far yet, but you were right Hunter, she is a frisky girl! Thanks!" >>).:.(<< Only two chapters of WoT left to go, and for those looking for more, I will be continuing Jon and Paul's adventures in college and will be bringing in the boys from IF You Could Read My Mind and In This Cruel World. (I'm not sure yet how it will be listed.) Drop me a line if it pleases you. (It really does make my day) 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. If you join the group it will send notifications to an email addy of your choice when new chapters are posted. No other junk mail, no spam. http://ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/phantomscorpio77