Warning! This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the fictional characters and any live person is purely coincidental. This story contains fictional descriptions of sexual activity between consenting minor youth. If you are under the age of 18, and/or if you are offended by this content, and/or if it is illegal in your jurisdiction to possess or read such material, please leave now.
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be transmitted or reproduced in whole or in part in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Author or Publisher, except where permitted by law. Copyright (c) 2016 by Flip McHooter.
Please send your comments to Flip at firstname.lastname@example.org both good and bad.
I pulled into Uncle Scott's driveway in twenty-nine minutes flat. No one was out in the neighborhood – unlike yesterday with all the Amazon delivery dudes and cable guys – save for Milo, who was standing on the front porch waiting for me. He looked epic in his chef's jacket, apron, and black-and-white checkered pants. And of course, he was wearing his red Titans ball cap on his head, backwards, his curly dark hair poking out from underneath. So epic!
"Hey, buddy!" he shouted at me as I got climbed out of my car. "I'm pumped you're here."
"Me too. Dude, don't you look the part. Wow. Look at you. You look, well, you look hot. Way hot! I had no idea a chef could look so good." I practically floated through the air over to him, with the bottle of champagne clamped tight in my hand and tucked stealthily behind my back so he couldn't see it.
"This old stuff? Naw, it's nothing special. Uncle Scott gave it to me a while ago when he found out I liked to cook. The pants are almost too tight, now."
"No, dude. They couldn't be more perfect. Totally epic on you!"
"No they're not. You're being a tool!" he joked, but still took a quick peek at his ass, trying to see what I saw. "So what are you hiding there? Is that my surprise?"
"Yeah, it is. You're not going to believe it. One of my favorite customers gave me a bottle of champagne. He told me that it's supposed to be the best stuff ever, and it's totally expensive, too. I had to badger this clueless guy in the liquor department before I left," I said. I was super excited all of a sudden to be doing something like this – this grown up – with Milo. And I'm pretty sure my grin said it all.
"Oh wow, that's totally awesome. He must really like you if he gave you that. But wait. How did he know you were gay?" Milo asked.
"So weird. His husband's great nephew or something was the cop up at the Overlook last night. Fucker ratted us out."
"Asshat. So back to the old guy. Why did he give you this? Don't tell me you have to send him a naked selfie or something? That'd be kinda sketchy, don't you think?"
"Now it's your turn being a tool. Seriously? He's like a grandpa. I helped him out to his car with this big load of groceries. He's a nice guy. You'd like him. He and his husband are celebrating fifty years together tomorrow by throwing a huge party up at Yanis' ranch."
"Sounds like fun. But wow. That's a long time for anybody, let alone two gay dudes," he said. "That's super awesome. Good on them."
"I know! So check this: They're also fairy godparents to a couple of gay dudes a little older than us that went to school here. One plays basketball for the Gauchos. Yanis says he's really good, but has been having injuries lately. The other is a fashion designer of some sort."
"They sound awesome. I think I've heard of the guy on the Gauchos."
"Me too. The designer guy I don't have a clue. Yanis wants us to meet them sometime. Says they're cool dudes and we'd get along great."
"No kidding? I think I'd be up for meeting them sometime, as long as you were with me. I don't know any other gay's like us, so it might be cool to meet some dudes our age."
"Yeah, no kidding. I don't either. Except, I shouldn't say this, but do you know Parker on cheer..."
"Sure. But he's kinda..."
"Obvious. I know," I said. "And you know Nacho from football, right?"
"Yeah. Brutus? He's scary."
"Yeah, he totally is. He had his tongue thrust all the way down Parker's throat when I jammed in the boy's room to take a wicked piss. Scared me, and scared them. It was way awkward."
"No shit. Who'd a thought?"
"I know. Anyway, Yanis also invited us to their anniversary party tomorrow, but I told him I didn't think we could make it. I'm not sure we're ready for that. I know I'm not. I'm not ready to be out and proud with a bunch of adults I don't know. At least, not until I get used to all of this. It's so complicated keeping up. Anyway, I'd rather be alone with you, chef," I said.
"Me too! You get a special kiss for that, buddy!" For the second time in two days, he moved in and kissed me hard on the lips, right there on the front porch. I sighed, and decided I didn't care who saw us anymore. These kisses were just too epic and if the neighbors got weird seeing us, who f'n cares?
"So we have to say a toast to them when we pop it open," I said when we broke apart.
"Can't wait. Let's get inside," he said, heading into the big house with me hot on his tail.
I set the bottle of champagne and my daypack down on a modern-looking side table and turned around to face him. "Damn, it smells great in here. I can't wait to see what you're making."
"You'll find out soon enough, buddy. Hey! C'mere." He held his arms out and by some magical force, I was instantly reeled into him once again. We kissed, and kissed, and kissed some more. We couldn't stop! I was immediately rock hard, and I could feel Milo's boner pushing right back into mine through his tight chef's pants. "Ummm, I missed this, Mase. For some reason, I can't keep my paws off you."
"Me, either," I sighed, as we held each other tight, arms around our backs and our crotches tight together. "So how'd it go with your folks? Was Cass there?" I said into his ear. Dude wouldn't let me go. Not that I minded it.
"No, Stupunzel bailed. But it turned out great anyway, luckily for me. No problem. It seems my mom quizzed Cass a couple weeks ago, and of course, she spilled like a glass of milk in front of a four year old."
"You pissed at her?" I asked.
"Cass? Naw, not really. My dad said he wondered about me for some time now, but he didn't want to talk to me about it until he knew I was ready. He said he wanted me to come to him first. Said he didn't know how to approach the subject, so he's been researching it online. I thought that was cool, but still, it would have been nice to talk about it earlier. My mom had no clue until recently."
"Do you honestly want to know?" he asked. I could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks.
"Yeah. I do now. What happened?" I asked, leaning back and looking at him in the eye.
"Spill it, dude," I demanded. "This sounds too good."
"Okay," he sighed, releasing me and walking towards the big, open kitchen. "I'm such a girl. I wrote your name on my notebook, which I left on the kitchen table with my homework. And...um...it had a bunch of little red hearts on a surfboard surrounding your name. My mom saw it."
"Oh my god," I said, busting up. "That's too fucking funny."
"Shut up! But yeah, I guess it is," he said, his face totally burning red now. "Oh well. It's all out in the open. So that's what prompted her to ask Cass about me."
"Cool. Wish I could have seen that exchange."
"No, you wouldn't have. But, um... this part you might not like," he said quietly.
"Because they want to meet you."
"Oh. Well. That shouldn't be a big deal, should it? I suppose I can do that." I wasn't thrilled, but for Milo I'd do it.
"You would?" he asked, amazed. I'm sure if he was meeting my parents he'd bail. I sure as hell would.
"Sure. If it allows me to keep seeing you, then I'm totally up for it."
"So awesome, Mase," he said, giving me another big hug.
"What about going to Dubai?" I asked, after we broke apart.
"I don't know. I think they're still going to make me go, although, they did say we'd talk about it later. I've got less than two months to work out a plan to stay here. I've pretty much made up my mind I'm not going, though," he said, sounding kind of sad. "That's going to be the fight of the century. I guarantee it. I can't miss playing baseball this spring. I'll miss my family like crazy, but I gotta stay here."
"Hey! What about me? Aren't I at least a little bit important? Won't you miss me?"
"Of course I will, Mase. Shit! You're the whole reason I'm doing this. Baseball's not as important as you are. I play great at our school, and maybe I'll do okay for a college team, but that's about it. I know I'm never going to play for the big leagues, and I'm cool with that. But you, Mase, I can't leave you. No f'n way. Not after all this stuff that's happened. I think it's Kissimmee."
"Dude, I don't think so. That's down in Florida. Try Kismet."
"Oh, yeah, Finland," he laughed. "Anyway, I need to stay here."
"I hear ya, man. That's great. I'd miss you too. So I started researching how to get a passport so in case I won the lotto, I could come see you."
"Yeah." And then our lips were instantly slapping around together again.
"So, can you stay here with your uncle?" I asked, panting, when we finally pulled off each other.
"I don't know. I'm not sure he'd want me messing up his lifestyle. But it would be cool if he let me."
"Well, I'm sure we can figure something out," I said.
"We? This is my problem."
"Yeah, well maybe. But...I don't want you to go either. I'll miss you too."
"Really?" Milo asked.
"Yeah, really dude. Didn't you hear me? I'll miss you, and I don't want you to leave."
"Ahhh. C'mere, you."
We started kissing again, super-seriously kissing this time, and after a few minutes my lips started to sting. Luckily, Milo had other ideas and he jumped off me. He sure was hyper.
"C'mon. Let's pop the champagne and have a toast. We have lots of things we can celebrate. Have you ever had champagne before, Mase?"
"No. Never. I didn't trust the guy in liquor so I looked it up when I got home. This is some seriously outrageous shit. I also read that the carbonation makes you get drunk faster."
"Okay, cool. We'll have to test that theory," he laughed. "I'm glad I made some appetizers. If we're going to that party tonight, one of us has to be sober."
"I agree. But we could always use Uber like Rocky and One-Eye do. Anyway, I'm glad you made some snacks, too," I said, kissing him again. I didn't want to stop. I was totally beginning to love kissing him.
"They're appetizers, not snacks, doofus," he said, stepping back.
"Oh, excuse me." Guess you can't dis on a wanna-be chef.
"So, you know how to open the bottle?" he asked.
"Duh, I just told you I watched a video on the interweb. I kept it cold, too, because they said that makes it easier to open for some reason. And a forty-five angle works best."
"Good job, Mase. Okay, you do that and I'll get some glasses and the cheese and fruit tray I made. I'm not sure you'll like all of it. Some of the cheese is super-stinky, but it's seriously tasty and the figs are f'n amazing. I think you'll like it. If nothing else, food like this is supposed to make you crazy-horny."
"Oh, wow, like we need that," I deadpanned. "So you really are serious about cooking. That's awesome. Okay, I'm game. I'll give it a try."
"Yeah, I am serious. Be careful where you point that bottle. I don't want to have to pay for a broken window. Here, put this kitchen towel over it like a sommelier would use."
"Isn't he that dude in Vampire Diaries?"
"Okay, okay." I had the bottle open in no time, with barely a blurp, and the small amount of foam that spilled out I quickly wiped up off the cool cement floor.
"Good job, buddy. Here, pour me a big glass. It looks delicious," Milo said.
"We should toast Yanis and King first, since he made this possible."
"Okay, right! What should we say?"
"Well, I guess we should start with, here's to fifty years. That's a monumental thing, especially for two gay dudes. To Yanis and King. Cheers!" I said.
"Cheers, Yanis and King!" he said, and then after a couple of seconds added, "Oh, yum! This is awesomely delicious."
"No kidding. Okay, your turn, shortstop."
"I guess I have to toast you, buddy, because you're finally here with me and I couldn't be happier, and I'm not talking shit, either. I'm really glad you're here with me. So cheers, Mase!"
"Thanks, Milo. I'm glad I'm here too." We clinked our glasses, downed the contents and after another couple of glasses and silly toasts, we started kissing some more. I really was totally stoked being there with him.
After a few moments, Milo finally broke off and said quite seriously, "We gotta stop. C'mon. We need to work on dinner now. I'll show you what you can do to help out. This is going to take longer than I originally thought. You're not starving, are you?"
"No, I'm all good. Do I get to wear that fancy get-up you're wearing? And what kind of underwear do you wear under that? Your boner feels like a Nazi helmet. You wearing your cup? Is Coach Johnson on his way over to check you out? Maybe I should go and leave you two alone."
"Buddy, not hardly. How would you know what a Nazi helmet feels like anyway? And no, I don't have any extra chef's gear for you, you perv. For your information, I'm wearing a new jock that I ordered a while ago. Not one of those cool Andrew Christian ones. Those ones are kinda hot, but sort of porny and way too twinky. Anyway, they're too expensive and I could never wear one of those in the locker room without being laughed at. But this one finally got here today. You'll like it when you see it. I like wearing jocks. I think they're sexy. This one's black."
"Seriously, dude? Black? Shit. That sounds so freakin' hot. Let me see it!"
"Down, boy, down. Get out of my damn pants! We've got food to cook. Sorry, you only get to wear an apron."
"Only an apron? That's all? How come I'm the only one that gets to be practically naked? That doesn't seem fair," I whined. "Is that because this is my first time cooking? Like I'm a rookie or something? Is that what you learned playing high school sports? What if you splatter grease on my ass? I could be wrecked for life."
"Shut up, you doofus," he laughed. "What's gotten into you today?"
"Nothing," I laughed. "Maybe it's the champagne. But seriously, I'm just happy I'm here with you. You make me weird. But a good weird. And I like it. So what do you want me to do?" I asked, slipping on the red Williams-Sonoma apron he handed me, still thinking of Milo on his hands and knees, naked, except for that black jock, his head turned back over his shoulder, and his killer smile egging me on.
"Do you know how to cut vegetables?" Milo asked.
"What?" I asked. I had no idea what he had just asked me because I was so lost in my vision of him posing for me.
"C'mon, dude. Wake up!" he yelled into my face, making come around. "Do you know how to cut vegetables or not?"
"Oh, sure. Yeah. You grab a knife out of the dishwasher, flick off any leftover bits that might still be on it, grip it like this, and go whack, whack, whack."
"Oh my god. Haven't you ever watched the Food Network?"
"No, I don't think we get that station. Anyway, I don't watch much TV."
"Mase, you are so clueless you're cute. Want to hear a secret?"
"Every time I stay here I like to go crazy and cook all kinds of new and different shit. I make big meals to freeze so Uncle Scott has something to eat when he's home. It's the least I can do for him for letting me stay here all the time. Besides, I'm practicing so I can be on Chopped sometime." he said.
"Chopped? What's that? Is that a good thing?"
"Hell to the yes! One of my biggest dreams. I want to be on their Teen Challenge, but I think I'm getting too old for that now."
"That's too bad. So tell me, is there like a young hot-dude competition where the guys wear only aprons and jocks?"
"I don't think so. Although, that might be hot. But probably not for the Food Network. You never know."
"All right, all right. I'm just funnin' you. So let's get this show on the road, then, so you can start dazzling me with your culinary expertise. I want to see what you can do."
"Awesome! C'mon over here and I'll show you how to help. Let's start with the mushrooms. You take the knife in your hand like this, and with your other hand, hold the mushroom like this. Keep your fingers kinda curled. See? Since the mushrooms are so small, rest this part of the blade on the cutting board, and rock it like this. That way you get small, even sizes."
"Okay, I can do that. You make it look easy, shortstop. Let me try it now," I said. I sure hope I didn't cut off a finger, because the blade was super sharp. Not at all like the old, dull shit we had in our kitchen at home.
"Yeah, that's it. You're doing good. But try it like this," Milo said as he slithered up behind me, and forcefully wrapped his big arms around my body, locking my elbows to my side. He put his hands on top of mine, and showed me how to slice the mushrooms thinly, in even sizes, nice and slow. The problem was, he had to move in super tight and up on his toes behind me so he could look over my shoulder to see what we were doing down on the cutting board. And naturally, his crotch, hard against my ass, and his sweet breath across my cheek and ear, made me instantly horny and I could hardly concentrate. It wasn't just me! I could feel his hard boner poking me in the ass, even if it was trapped in that mind-bending jock he said he was wearing. We had to stop chopping, once Milo let go of the knife and started to nibble on my earlobe. His arms wrapped around me got tighter, and he pushed his crotch even harder into my ass crack. "So good, Mase, so good. You smell so awesomely great. What cologne are you wearing?"
"Um, none. That's me. Eau d' Conover." I started to giggle. "Dude, get off me. Someone is going to get hurt."
"You're right. But damn! You get me so, so..."
"Yeah!" he laughed.
"I meant horny, you fucker."
"Um, yeah, I guess. No, yeah! I guess you make me horny. Only a little though. Hey! Don't tickle me," he laughed. "Stop, already. Okay! You make me horny. A lot horny! There, I said it."
"About time. But we can't live on horny, chef. Let me do this myself, okay?"
"Sure. Do those, and I'll have you cut up some other stuff we'll need for the duxelles," he said, draining the last of the champagne in his glass. "I can't decide if I like this stuff or not. It sure is making both of us silly, though. I'm gonna go refill our glasses."
"Me? Silly? Impossible. Not in my DNA," I said as he walked away to grab the champagne bottle. "I'll take some more but I'm not sure about it either, but I think I like it. Anyway, what in the heck are duxelles?" I asked. "We're having tiny ducks? Duck-ettes? Like, little baby ducklings that are always crossing the road? That would be sick, and not in a good way. Do we have to pluck them? Do they have like, teeny-tiny feathers? Do we get to ring their necks? How weird would that be? It might be cool, if we pictured them like, someone we hate. Like the walkers in Walking Dead, or some serial killer. Wait! I know. Kanye Kardashian. I can't stand him."
"No, you doofus. Are you really that stupid? You're totally fucking with me, right?"
"Yeah," I laughed, "I am. Totally fucking with you. It was totally great." Milo's face was priceless. "Sorry. I have no idea what in the hell you're talking about. Duxehall. Sounds like the name of one of my neighbor Angus' weird old cars from down under."
"It's duxelles. I tried to translate it once, only it came up with the same word. It's French for something or other, who the hell knows what. All I know is that it's going to taste great once it's slathered all over our meat. The roast! Don't look at me like that. Will you stop, already? It's going to go over the meat and the whole thing gets wrapped up in this amazing pastry crust. It's going to be fucking killer, dude. You watch."
"Okay, cool." This was way fun, working in the kitchen with Milo and being stupid. Not only did he make me laugh, he made me super-horny, too. Once I started concentrating, I quickly had all the mushrooms cut up exactly like he wanted. They turned out pretty good, and I was actually proud of my accomplishment.
"Perfect. Put it in this bowl."
"All right," I said. "This is awesome. I like cooking with you, shortstop. What's next?"
"Yeah, this is fun. Take this. It's a shallot. Peel these outer layers, there's only like two or three, and roughly chop up the insides. Be warned though, they might make you cry."
"Why would I cry? I told you, I don't cry." Before I could say any more, I got a good strong whiff and immediately my eyes teared up. "Shit! These are like onions, only juiced up on steroids."
"Yeah, that's a good way of explaining them. They have a more subtle and unique flavor and a great mouthfeel. You'll see. And Mason?"
"Yeah?" I sniffed.
"It's good to see that you're human."
"Shut the fuck up, you tool," I said, smiling and crying at the same time. "Okay, I think I'm done." I was still wiping my eyes with my sleeve. "What else?"
"Slice these carrots but don't chop them. They're for the salad, so they can be a bit bigger. They came a couple days ago from this farmer-to-you place. Local growers around here, and maybe up by San Francisco, too. I'm not sure. They're all organic. My uncle likes that kinda stuff, and he orders a box every week. It shows up on the porch on Thursday's, first thing in the morning. How cool is that? And it's all good stuff, even if some of it looks weird."
"I don't doubt that. Maybe our market can hook up with that company, and they could sell their vegetables in our store. That would be cool. I'm all about stuff grown or made here, especially here on the central coast."
"Me, too. For some reason, these veggies taste better."
"Yeah?" I said, popping one of the slices of carrot I cut up into my mouth, then fed one to Milo. He sucked in my finger, along with the carrot, making me giggle. His mouth was warm and moist, and I instantly popped another woody. "They're crunchy. How come they're this dark color? They're almost purple."
"My uncle told me some of the local farmers try to raise heirloom vegetables that big farms don't grow anymore," he said while he started unrolling some pastry dough. "Supposedly, they taste much better. I think they do, anyway."
"I agree. I'll have to talk to my boss about this. We have lots of customers who would pay extra money to have good quality produce like this. Plus, if a staff member recommends a new product, or a way to save money without skimping on quality, we get a boner. I mean a bonus. Fuck! A bonus!"
Milo looked at me again, and started busting up – actually doubling over and busting up. I had never seen him like this before. But it made me start to laugh, too.
"Mase, dude, you're so cute, being totally silly today. I never thought you would have such a crazy sense of humor. You always seem, so, so, serious."
"Normally, I am. I can't help it. And it's not the champagne, either. You're driving me completely stupid, and you're making me super horny in that hot outfit. It's the weirdest combination. Not only that, I can hardly get the picture of you running around the pool almost naked in only that hot jock strap out of my mind. It's making me woozy, and that disturbs my brain cells – in some, weird-strange way. But it's good! Can you at least pull down your pants and let me see it? Only one cheek? C'mon. Just for a quick second?"
"I can do better than that," he said, giggling at my begging. "Put those three bowls you're working on in the fridge, and I'm going to wrap this pastry back up. This stuff can f'n wait. We'll eat later. Right now, we need to see what's going on in my room. I think I may have heard a noise. It might take more than a minute or two for us to thoroughly investigate it and make sure it's clear. And when I say investigate, I mean investigate every Single. Thing. Thoroughly."
"Oh, yeah? I didn't hear anything," I said with a laugh, looking over my shoulder towards the hallway.
"Yeah. And you know what else?" he asked, with a funny smirk on his face.
"No. What?" I said, trying not to laugh.
"I may have a surprise for you. A special jock. Just for you."
"Seriously? No fucking way. You're kidding me, right?"
"No, I'm totally serious," he said.
"Is it one of your sweaty-smelly ones that you wear to work out in, or when you play baseball with all your buddies? Now that I think about it, I could be into that." I said, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. I had no idea why I said that. But Milo was pushing my buttons, all the sexy ones. And truth be told, I always liked the stinky smells of dudes my age. That was the only part of P.E. that I liked. "I bet it smells, well, hot!"
"Um, no, I don't know, but yeah, that might be cool to mess around in those things together sometime. I like the way you think, buddy," he said with a lecherous grin. Then, after a minute, "So, yeah, that one's a red one. Brand new. I ordered it when I ordered the black one. I saved money when I bought two. I never thought in my wildest dreams, ever, that we'd be wearing them together. You and me. That's f'n crazy, dude. Way off the f'n chain."
"No shit! I think it's awesome, too. I'm totally up for it. It's been a while since I've worn a jock, but shit, I always got a woody every time I put one on. Can't wait to see you in that thing. That jock and nothing else. Well, maybe your cap, too. This sounds weird, but can we take pictures of each other while we're wearing them?" I asked.
"Are you serious?"
"Sure. Why not?" I said, cramming the last of the cut-up vegetables into the fridge and slamming the door shut with a bang. "It wouldn't be porn, exactly. I mean, some butt action, sure, but nothing else," I giggled. "Those Kardashians do that all the time. Why can't dudes do that too? Wouldn't that be cool if one of the Jonas brothers did that?"
"Can't stand them. But you! Buddy, I'd love it! It'll be porn when I get finished with you."
"Damn, dude. Who's horny now?"
End of Chapter 9
Please send your comments to Flip at email@example.com both good and bad. It's the only way Nifty writers know if anybody is reading their stories.
Special thanks to my editors Hans Schreiber (on sabbatical) and Paul S. Stevens, both prolific authors here on Nifty. Be sure to check out their stories.
Finally, please consider making a donation to Nifty to keep this great site running.