Date: Thu, 19 Oct 2006 03:44:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: Joel Ingenious <uaingenious@yahoo.com>
Subject: South Padre Island Part 4

South Padre Island
(c) 2006 Ingenious

	This is a work of fiction, depicting teenage males in romance
and/or sexual positions. The people depicted in this story (to the best of
the author's knowledge) do NOT exist... in the rare case that they're based
on real people, the names HAVE been changed...

	If you are under 18 years of age (or whatever the legal age in your
area is) you may not be legally allowed to read this story.  Your call.

	Also, if you are repulsed by the concept of homosexual romance
and/or sex, please feel free to leave at any time. In fact, now would be a
good time. But hey, it's your call, of course... I can't make you leave,
either... but if you choose to stay, feel free... who knows, you might even
change your mind! My only question is: why are you here if that's the case?

	Please feel free to email me with your comments/suggestions. My
email is: uaingenious@yahoo.com.

---------------------------------------------------------

   My head hurts.  I mean, it is throbbing.  Not really like a headache,
but more like I got knocked the fuck out.  I don't remember anything, and
come to think of it, I don't know where I am.  A quick sanity check tells
me I was wasted last night, and I realize I'm in Travis' room.  In his bed,
wearing nothing but my grey boxer-briefs.  I panic.
  
  --"Hey, you're up.  Are you alright?" he says, walking in the room.
  
  "Yeah, well, kind of.  My head is killing me!  What happened?  Why am I
in your bed?"
  
  --"It's a long story, Jake.  Basically, you got drunk and got in an
argument with some kid from the south side, and he sucker-punched you in
the side of the head.  You passed out and I drove your car here.  I hope
you don't mind, I wasn't drunk."
  
  "Oh, damn...  That's why I feel like shit.  I didn't even drink that
much..  How did I get in your bed?" I ask, fearing what I may have done the
night before, my memory failing me.
  
  -- "I had to carry your ass in here, you were completely passed out.  I
let you have my bed, and I slept on the couch in the other room.  You
didn't drink that much?"
  
  "No!  I only remember having like 3 beers..  Do you think, someone might
have given me a rufy?"
  
  -- "Man, I dunno.  I've only heard of that happening to girls, but it's
possible.  At least you're OK, for the most part, and nothing terrible
happened."
  
  I agree, and still a little out of it, I stand up, but almost fall down.
Trav grabs my arm and steadies me, looking concerned.  As usual, I start to
get a bulge down there, but in the state that I'm in, I don't even notice
until I see him staring down at my now rock hard dick, tenting my
underwear.
  
  -- "What's this?" he says playfully, to my surprise, and embarrassment.
  
  "Nothing, I mean, it's .. I'm not ...", I blushingly stumble.
  
  -- "Jacob, if you like me you can tell me.  Shit, we've known each other
for a dozen years, I don't care."
  
  "No dude, I ain't gay"
  
  -- "Dude, what about all the times this year I've caught you looking at
me in the shower at school?"
  
  "Well, I, I just ... ...  Well ..... what if I do like you?  What if I'm
secretly a big fag, and all I ever wanted was to make out with you?"