By Blue C.
Disclaimer: Don't be stupid. This story depicts homosexual males kissing, dancing, having sex, and other activities that they find enjoyable. If that is not your thing, then really, why are you here?
Copyright 2003-5 by the author. This story is not to be posted anywhere without the author's permission.
Part 1-"Anything you Want"
Fall was just staring to settle in for the long, cold, and damp slumber of winter on the day that Jake asked to sleep with Drew. Darkness had already started to fill the trees, shadows were filling, joining, reaching far from the forest that cast them, into the motel were the boys were staying.
The shadows made everything seem dark, indistinct, as if the whole world was being looked at through a filter. Despite the darkness on the ground, the sky was still bright and glorious. The clouds still rolled along, passing overhead, oblivious to the darkening world below, like Ivory kings riding the cerulean carriage of the sky.
Jake and Drew were also like kings, secure in their positions, touchable by none. Both were on the varsity soccer team, the only team the High school gave a damn about, after the hope crushing loss of the star quarterback to injury. It was unknown how exactly he was injured, at least to Jake, and if Drew knew, he wasn't talking. The whole matter was covered in silence and lies, and murmurs of "It's a private matter"; impregnable defenses for boys their age. Jake was only a freshman, but had great potential, though he was having doubts about his placement on the Varsity team. On JV, he could have starred, or at least started. Instead, he warmed the bench, and watched on as senior Drew fumbled in their shared position, right midfielder. Every time it looked like the coach had finally had enough, Drew would do an amazing run out of nowhere, kicking and dribbling past defenders like they were standing still, running circles around the offence, snaring back his slot for another game.
Of the two, Jake was the more typical jock. Naturally a very handsome brown haired boy, he had bleached it blonde, bringing out what little darkness his skin could offer and causing Drew to dub him "Peroxide." No one else called him that, no one else was allowed. Not even his girlfriend Denise, a cheerleader, who like her boyfriend had made varsity and now wondered why. She wondered why about a lot of things, like why Jake would look up to Drew, the position stealer, and the enemy of the jock led "A group".
Drew was not a jock. His pretty looks and high GPA did not mesh with his ultra manly teammates, who seemed more concerned with comparing various bulge sizes than homework. The only reason his presence was tolerated was that Drew just happened to be able to run very fast for long periods of time, thanks to yearly doses of soccer every grade since third. The track coach tried repeatedly to interest him, but Drew first politely, then much less politely, turned the man down. Truth was, he didn't really care for his sport, or his team, but it was the least painful way to get through his PE credit. So for one season a year, he'd sell his soul to the soccer coach, who in exchange excused him from having to take an actual PE class. Sometimes it was worth it, sometimes it wasn't.
Quirky Jake was around for many of the "worth-it" times, and was more often than not the cause of them. Drew the unpopular and social misfit, enjoyed being looked up to by the muscular, blonde freshman god. Oh hell, even if he didn't look up to Drew, Drew would still find it hard not to smile at the sound of Jake's sexy laugh, or to not long for moments of laying the arms of Jake, breathing his scent through his skin. Not that Drew was unattractive himself; he had his share of followers and devotees. Just, standing next to Jake, there was no comparison.
Jake knew of his looks, and their effect on other boys looking for someone to dominate and find release in. That was why, on an overnight stay during a tournament hours away from the rural town they all called home, he picked Drew over the other two roommates to split a bed with. He simply didn't trust the other two to keep their hands to themselves. One, a senior like Drew, had acquired the nickname "Fag" within days of his arrival freshmen year, which he had been unable to shake to this day, despite a long string of ever changing girlfriends. The other, a junior who had transferred at the start of the season, was known to flirt with just anything that walked, male or female, and was too new for anyone to decide yet if he was serious or not. Neither were the kind of guys Jake would have liked to spend the night with, if given a choice. As an added bonus, Drew, despite being the least built member of the soccer team, could dominate a room with his voice and stance alone, and would be perfect protection from the "fags", in case they planned any midnight raids on his innocent young body.
Jake said all this to Drew, as they made their way to the motel room. "Drew, I HAVE to sleep with you. You are the only one in the room that I KNOW isn't a faggot, and won't try to feel me up in the middle of the night."
Drew didn't respond at first. He didn't trust himself to, with the emotions coursing through him from that one sentence. One hand, he was disappointed at the apparent orientation of Jake, not that his dreams would stop so easily. On the other, he was more than a little excited, in more ways than one, at the prospect of sharing body heat with this drop dead gorgeous boy.
Of course, he was also trying not to laugh at loud at how off base this poor misguided freshman was in discerning real fags from rumors. Not that Drew would correct him. In fact, when he was sure of this voice, he said "Sure thing Peroxide, whatever you want."
'Too bad I can't get whatever I want,' he thought to himself. 'That would include you.'