Date: Thu, 30 Jun 2005 17:48:34 -0500 From: H. Rick Cantwell Subject: Rascal 19 Rascal Part Nineteen Pay Ups and Paybacks That Saturday after the Championship win, Ryan called me and begged to come over. When we got to the apartment, he immediately turned on my computer even before he stripped. While it was warming up and going through its diagnostics, he said, "C'mon, Spunky, get undressed. We've got to check my e-mails," Then he headed down the hall to put his clothes away. After we were both naked, I followed him back to the computer. Because he and I use the computer together so much when he comes over, I exchanged my computer chair for one that was a little more comfortable. That way, I could sit behind Ryan and wrap my arms around him--or fondle his jewels. He was also beginning to enjoy nipple play. I had my right hand across Ryan's chest fondling his left nipple and my left hand cupping his balls. While Ryan opened the first e-mail, I jiggled his nut sack a little. I saw his cock head was tickling his navel. Footballer88@easternmail.edu sent, [You got out of here last night before we could hook up. Since we won, name the time and place. Will need at least two hours. :-) --88] "I can't believe Robert used his school e-mail ID. At least the message wasn't incriminating," Ryan said. Fagmasher@easternmail.edu sent an e-mail that read, [I think what you said in the field house last night showed a sick sense with regards to Jeremy. If you need help, let me know.] Ryan clicked on 'Reply' and typed, [Thank you for your response to my comments. It just proves you weren't listening. Nothing I said could be taken as "sick." Only the perverted mind of a blind bigot would take an act of kindness and twist it into something disgusting. You need psychiatric help. PS Tell your dad I'll see him Sunday at the same time and at the regular place.] "Don't send that," I said, just as Ryan clicked on 'Send.' "Oops!" Ryan said with no real conviction. "Besides, Jeremy's the one who's out with a broken collarbone. Who gives a shit about who does what as long as the team wins!" "Apparently THAT guy. Why do you want to make him mad, anyway?" I asked. "So he'll reveal himself. Daddy says, 'always know your enemy.'" We went through about eight more e-mails of the 'name the time and place' variety, before Ryan opened one that read, [Does that offer extend to that hot looking adult that came in with you? I could get into that!] Ryan said, "I bet he typed STUD but overwrote it with ADULT." "Why do you say that?" "Well, I know I'd say 'stud' or 'dude' but it looks like he's using a fake ID, too." "Whaddya mean?" "See, he's using one of those free e-mail accounts instead of his school ID." I looked up to see the e-mail address was hornEboi@freemail.com. "Is that a problem?" Ryan right clicked on the name and went to properties to look at the origin of the e-mail. "Hummm." "What does that mean?" I asked. "He's using his freemail name but it's being sent from a school computer," Ryan said. "Ya see, at school, we can only have one e-mail account and it can only be activated by linking it up to our school enrollment number. Apparently this guy doesn't want to be identified. He's probably still in the closet." Ryan clicked on the 'Reply' button bringing up the 'Compose' message screen. "Before you e-mail him," I said, successfully stopping Ryan's impulse to 'JUST SAY YES,' "we have to make sure he's legal." "Legal?" "Eighteen." "I don't think anyone on the team is eighteen except Robert--88-- and he's already e-mailed me." "Then the answer is 'NO'," I said. "Why? Tyler's not eighteen. Neither is Taylor, for that matter." "But we have those two under control. You have to realize, your dad can't protect me if I keep fuckin' up. He can only cover for me so many times before HE gets caught, too. It's my job to keep my life felony-free." "Let's see who it is. Maybe it's Coach! Would you do it with Coach?" "Is he a top or a bottom?" "Definitely a top! It was all I could do to keep him from fuckin' my butt before you did." "What did your dad tell you about 'Don't kiss and tell?'" Ryan twisted to look over his shoulder at me with an expression of horror. "See how easy it is to slip up? You have to be aware of what you're saying at all times." "But you wouldn't tell." "That's not the point. You have to be on top of the game every waking moment. It could just as easily be a classmate who could get you in trouble or an undercover cop. What if it were Fagmasher that tricked you?" "Yeah, I see what you mean. But you still didn't answer my question." Hell, yeah. I'd bottom for Coach. How's he hung?" "Not ... oh, no you don't. I'm not falling for that trick twice in the same night." "I knew he was gay before I tricked you." "Bi, actually. He's married and got a half-dozen kids. Say, how do YOU know Coach is gay?" "I don't kiss and tell." "But you haven't kissed. You just said you'd bottom for him which tells me ..." "What are you gonna do about hornEboi?" "We'll have to be as cryptic as he is and try to find out who he is." Ryan began typing. [Hot looking adult is willing to help make good on Division-Champ-Win offer. Meet with me Monday in the lunch room. I'll tell you about the stipulations that apply!] "How's that?" Ryan asked before clicking on the send button. "Send it. We'll see if he takes the bait." Ryan sent it and began checking the rest of his e-mails. Six asked how to hook up with 'the girl.' Two asked if they had to choose one or the other, or if the offer extended to both. Ryan replied that both were definitely an option. While Ryan was responding to the last one, another e-mail came through from hornEboi@freemail.com The message read, [Can't do lunch. R U IM able?] "Want to do Instant Messaging?" Ryan asked. "I don't have IM." "I'll try using mine," Ryan said, typing [Call me at AIM Rascal69. I'll try to respond.] "If he IMs me, I won't have to recreate the environment on your computer. In the meantime, I'll try to download the IM program." Within two minutes, hornEboi got an IM through. [can't meet at school cuz i go to another school.] [How come you were in the field house then?] Ryan typed but then he deleted the word 'then.' "Don't want it to sound accusatory," Ryan said as he pressed the enter key. [helpin' dad square away the field house with the end-of-season cleanup.] [Who's your dad?] [he works for the school.] "It could be Coach," Ryan said. "He has kids 11, 13, 15, 19 and 21. There's one more, but I don't know his age--or her age." "So this could be the 19- or 21-year-old," I said. "OR it could be the janitor's kid." "True. So how do we find out?" Ryan asked while typing [You're being careful. I can appreciate that.] and sent it. [yeah, gotta be. dad doesn't know about, you know what.] "Just ask his age," I said. Ryan typed, [ASL] "What's that?" "Age, sex, location." [m. downtown library.] "He's underage," Ryan said. "Yeah, he didn't give his age." "That and he's at the library." "So?" I asked. "It's a public library." "If he was of credit card age, he'd be at the Computer Cafe or Kinko's. Whaddya want me to tell him?" [need to meet about age!] hornEboi sent. "Whoa!" Ryan said surprised. [You got a lotta splainin' to do, Lucy.] [can we meet?] hornEboi sent. [please?] followed immediately thereafter. [Where and when?] Ryan sent. [here? today?] we received. Ryan turned to look over his shoulder at me. "I told you, no minors." "If he's the janitor's son, maybe he's too poor to have a credit card," Ryan said with hope in his tone. "Let's hear him out. Maybe there's a good reason he's being closeted." "Yeah, like he's a cop," I said. "He's interested in YOU--the adult--not me, the kid." "Oh yeah." "Maybe he's like fifty or sixty or something." "That would make his dad--who works for the school--eighty or older." "I hear old guys make good lovers--when you can get 'em hard," Ryan giggled as he typed [Wait]. "Let's go anyway. You'll be old someday. You can use this as a learning experience." "Tell him twenty minutes," I said reluctantly. [20 minutes. What you wearing?] [great! i'll recognize you from last night.] [TTYL] Ryan sent and X'd out of the IM. On the way to the bedroom, Ryan said, "Would you go commando so your package will be on display better?" "Why?" "Bait. We can get more answers from the guy by dangling your carrot in his face." After scrambling into some clothes, we drove downtown. Ryan had quickly become the designated driver whenever we went ANYwhere together. The library as it turned out, was a block or two from the city bus station. I was just going to ask Ryan if he knew the security guard there, when he asked, "What if the guy's ugly? Should we have some way to get out of the commitment?" "I think you already told him I was willing to help. But I can get past ugly. Prison ain't full of male models, you know." "You are so kewl, Daddy Two." Ryan parked in the ramp across the street from the library. I watched the windows as we approached to see if any one was watching for us to arrive. There was no one there. We went in and passed by the check-out desk, went through the anti-pilfering detector and entered the main reading room. On the left, was a large open area with "quiet" toys available for the younger children. In the center was a "story-telling pit" where they could have books read to them. On the right, was the carrels with the computers. To my relief, there were several older-aged--18 to 60--patrons using the computers. We stood there for a minute--a full sixty seconds--waiting for someone to recognize that we were there. "Stay calm," Ryan said, "he's just trying to screw up his courage to meet you. After all, it's kinda like a first date." "Rascal69?" a voice behind us asked. I turned my head but didn't see anyone. "Uh, hi." Ryan said. "Are you ..." "HornEboi? Yeah. I play the English horn in the band." I looked down to see a kid about eleven years old, talking to Ryan. "Let's go upstairs. It's not as crowded," HornEboi said. "It's a no!" I said sternly. We can tell him upstairs," Ryan said as he headed to the elevator and pressed the button. We exchanged angry looks but I went anyway. I knew this time, there was no way I'd cave, just to please Rascal. After the doors closed, Ryan asked, "So, what's your name, hornEboi?" "Zack," He said, pressing the sixth floor button. Then, looking up at me and thrusting a thumb at Ryan, he said, "I know he's Ryan, what's your name?" "Dick," Ryan said, "but his friends call him Spunky." I shot him another nasty look of warning. The whole time Ryan was talking, Zack was staring at my cock as it hung heavily down my right pant leg. "Fuck!" Zack whispered. "Is that real?" "Sure is," Ryan said, "but you wanna know what's even better?" Zack's eyes got huge. "It gets even bigger." "That's enough," I said. Then the elevator doors opened. We followed Zack to the back of the room where he sat at a square-topped table. "It'll be safe back here. I think Roger ... he's the janitor ...is the only one who knows I moved this table back here." "You moved it? Why?" Ryan asked. Blushing, Zack said, "Me and him ... you know ... do it." "He and I," Ryan and I said at the same time, correcting Zack's grammar. "Not me and him," I added. "Can I ... you know ... uh ... blow you guys?" Zack asked. "I've been thinkin' about it a lot." "How could you? You just saw me for the first time yesterday in the field house." "Yeah, but ... uh ..." "But what?" Ryan asked. "Promise not to get mad, okay?" "About what?" "Well, some of the guys on the team talk about you. Of course, they don't think anyone's around, you know ... me. I'm pretty much non-existent as far as they're concerned." "What do they say about me?" Ryan asked. "For the most part, it's nice stuff. There's one guy who hates your guts and a couple of guys go along with whatever he says." "That's pretty standard," I said, trying to make Ryan feel better. "But those same guys say nice things about you when that other asshole's not around." "Wait a minute," Ryan said. "How is it that you're in the locker room that much?" "I help clean up. You know, pick up the towels, mop up the shower room after everyone's gone. But only during home games--you know, Friday night after school. I go to St. Sebastian." "I know a guy ..." "Ryan," I warned. "Uh, okay if I have him look you up?" "Sure. What's his name?" With a jerk of his head toward me, Ryan said, "We don't tell others without getting their permission first." "Kewl," Zack said. Then, after a thoughtful moment, he said, "I guess I shouldn't have told you about the janitor huh?" "Right," Ryan said. "But it's okay. We won't tell anyone." "So can I?" "Can you what?" Ryan asked. "No," I said. "Oh, that," Ryan said, remembering Zack asked if he could give us a blowjob. "Could I at least look at it?" "No," I said. "You must get to see a lot of dicks if you work in the locker room," Ryan said. "Nah, not really. Occasionally, sure, but not often." "Why not?" "I'm mostly in the locker room. I can't go in the shower room till everyone's done in there." "But the guys CHANGE in the locker room." "Yeah, but they like to keep their backs to as many guys as they can, and that includes me. Besides, there's only two or three out of all of 'em that ... you know ... 'let it all hang out' long enough to actually see it. Most of 'em pull their underpants up while they've still got the towel wrapped around 'em." "Shit! You're givin' me a boner just thinkin' about it," Ryan said. "Can I see?" Zack asked leaning around the corner of the table to look in Ryan's lap. Looking at me, Ryan asked, "Is it okay if I show him?" "You two are both underage. You can do whatever you want. But I'm ..." "Really?" Zack shouted. Then in a whisper, "Honest?" "No!" I whispered authoritatively. But Ryan had his pecker out of his pants for Zack to admire. "Let's see yours," Ryan said. As Zack stood to unzip, he walked around the corner of the table toward Ryan. "Can I touch it?" "Sure, can I touch yours?" "Mine's not very big yet, but Roger says it'll get bigger as I get older." He let his pants drop to the floor and he stepped out of them. He stood next to Ryan in his Jar Jar Binks underpants and a DNKY logo T-shirt. I presumed Roger was Zack's janitor friend but I didn't want to interrupt the natural flow of dialogue between the two boys. I wanted to learn as much as I could without causing Zack to clam up. "Mine was your size a couple of years ago and look at it now," Ryan said. "Wow! That's nice. It's bigger than Roger's." "Well, don't tell HIM. Most guys are sensitive about their size," Ryan said, slipping his pants off while remaining seated. "Not Roger. He knows his is small. He told me most guys with little dicks are "size guys" but not him. He says, 'If it's big enough to pee, it's big enough for me.'" "Me, too," Ryan said. "Is that why you wanted to do it with Unc ... Spunky?" "No. I just think he's hot!" Zack said. Then, turning to me, he said, "Sorry, I mean, I think YOU'RE hot! Honest. And that's before I saw your ... you know ... your bulge." "Thank you." Having had my presence acknowledged, I felt obligated to say something more. "So, who's your father?" Zack lowered his head. "Coach Wallace," he whispered. Both Ryan and I were stunned. Even so, I flashed Ryan an expression of warning, for him not to say anything about Coach. "So your dad doesn't know about Roger, then?" I asked. "No, sir," Zack said, like he was talking to the school principal--or whatever the equivalent is in a Catholic school. "What makes you think ... no, strike that ... what has your dad said or done to make you afraid to tell him?" Zack got pensive. "Well, he's always playin' basketball and football with my brothers. It's like he can't spend enough time with 'em ... which doesn't leave much time to spend with me." "What sports are you interested in?" "I'm not. I like music." "Does he go to your recitals?" I asked. "Yeah ... unless they're on game night." "Well, he IS the coach," I defended. "It's his JOB to be there. It's not like he can phone it in." "I know," Zack said unhappily. Pretending that I didn't know anything about the ages of his siblings, I asked, "Are you the oldest?" Ryan looked at me remembering he had told me their ages but I frowned to keep him silent. "No, I'm the youngest. I've got three older brothers and two older sisters." "Oh," I said, like it was news to me. "Well, it's just possible that your dad's spending more time with your older brothers, now, because they're gonna be leaving the house sooner." Picking up on where I was headed, Ryan said, "Which means he'll have more time to spend with you once they're gone." "That makes sense, I guess," Zack said, none to assured. "It's not like he totally ignores you, right?" "No, he tries to include me in stuff. It's just the other boys are with him ALL the time." "That's because they play sports and he's a coach. Pretty soon," I said with a wink at Ryan, "he's gonna be around so much, you'll wish you could get rid of him." "Like that's gonna happen," Zack said, dejectedly. Realizing it was safe to be open with Zack because his dad would understand, I gently ran my hand down my hardening cock. Ryan picked up on my 'suggestive' motion and said, "Spunky, you really should let that out to breathe. I bet if you looked at it right now, it would be purple from lack of oxygen." "I better not. Someone might come along." "No they won't," Zack said. "This is like the archival room. Nobody comes up here ... maybe once a month to get one book. The only other one would be Roger and he's cool. Besides, he owes me. I got him a job at your school, too ... at night ... after he leaves here." "So you and your dad have sex ... but ... no, you said your dad doesn't know about you being ..." Ryan looked around and whispered, "gay." "He doesn't. Jeeze, he's so fuckin' macho, he'd whip my ass till the flesh fell off and then tan the hide to make me a wallet--just so I'd always remember why I'd gotten the whipping." 'Rather imaginative for a ...' I thought. "How old are you?" "Eleven." Ryan said, "Spunky ... do it. It'll be okay. You know that." I unzipped and Zack rushed around the corner of the table to where I was sitting to get a closer look. "I'm gonna unbutton my pants and open the flaps, then I'm gonna reach in and lay it up on my belly. Get a good look because then I'm puttin' it away." "Okay," Zack said like he was short of breath. By the time I gripped my sausage and gave it a yank out of my pant leg, it was already starting to bone up. It landed on my belly, leaving a wet spot on my T-shirt. "That's fuckin' HUGE!" Zack whispered in awe. "It's only half hard," Ryan said. "It gets even bigger." I shot Ryan another warning expression. "Let him touch it, Spunky. It's not like he'll ever see one that big again--anytime soon, anyway." "Oh, please," Zack begged. "Can I touch the juicy stuff? I don't have juicy stuff. I wish I did. I love the feel of it. It's like ..." "How many guys have you ... you know ..." Ryan asked. "Only four," Zack said. "I have to be very careful. I don't want to, you know ... get caught." "I don't either," I said uneasily. Using tremendous self effort, I tried not to think about all the ramifications if I were caught in a public library with two under aged--not to mention--half-naked boys. "Go ahead, Zack, but hurry," Rascal said. "When Spunky gets nervous, it shrivels up and gets all useless and all." Before I knew what he was doing, Zack had his tongue tip in my cock slime. Then he flattened his tongue and swiped away the whole mess. "Whoa! Don't be doing that! I'll get thrown in jail." "Here," Rascal said, stepping up next to Zack. "You can have mine." Again, faster than a laser beam, Zack was on Ryan's boner--while still gripping my monster meat possessively. "You'll have to hurry," I whispered to Ryan, "this is not the best place to be doing this." With his eyes rolled back in his head, he nodded that he understood my eagerness to get out of there. Zack must have been good at what he was doing because Ryan popped a nut faster than a nutcracker. "Okay, that's enough. I'm not gonna get caught in public like this," I said when Zack let go of my dick to wipe his mouth. Lifting one flap of my fly front, I tucked myself back in. I knew I'd have to let my erection soften before I could walk out without creating a spectacle. "Awh, jeez," Zack whined. "I was just gettin' to the good stuff." Reaching out, I gently cupped his head in both hands and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I know you're disappointed." Soulfully, Zack said, "You promised." "He's right, Spunky," Rascal said. "I promised the team if they won ..." "But Zack's not on the team," I said, glaring at Ryan to let him know he wasn't helping matters. "I know you're disappointed ..." "But he's Coach's son, so by all rights, he's an extension of the team because he's family." I glared at Ryan but tried again. "I know you're disappointed but I promise you right here and now ... in person ... man to man, that I'll make it up to you." "You promised," Zack whimpered like his heart was broken. "I'm keeping my promise," I said. "Just not right now ... not here ... like this. What I have in mind will make you so much happier ... you'll forget all about this." "Nuh uh," Zack argued politely. "You're so hot!" "Being hot is one thing, but when I'm done paying off my promise to you, you're gonna thank me for making you wait." I kissed him on the forehead and released his head. "Okay," Zack said sullenly. I got the impression he got lectures like this from his family all the time but they were filled with hollow promises. Ryan's face lit up and he shouted excitedly, "Zack! He's right! You're gonna fuckin' love what he's got in mind." "How do you know? You don't even know what he's thinking." With a devilish smirk, Ryan put his arm over Zack's shoulders and said conspiratorially, "Oh, I think I do. After all, Spunky IS my protegee, so we think a lot alike." Somehow, I knew Ryan was reading my mind. Either that or he would try to influence me into doing whatever it was HE had in mind. Either way, it was going to be a great promise-fulfilling reward for Zack. "You have to promise me one thing," Ryan said. "What?" Zack asked warily. "You can't have sex with anyone until we get back with you. Okay?" "Why?" "We don't want you to get sick." "Sick of sex? No way!" "No, sick FROM sex. We want to teach you how to have safe sex and stuff. Then I'll introduce you to some friends of mine. Hey, by the way, can I tell a special friend of mine that you're gay? He's gay, too, so it'll be okay." "Who?" "Can't tell you. I haven't asked him if it's okay to tell you. So I have to do it the other way around. You know, ask you first." "Oh, yeah. I get it. Okay. Is he cute?" "Cuter'n me!" That surprised me, coming from the egotistical Rascal. "No way!" "You'll see ... if he agrees." "It's fine with me. I'm tired of doin' it all by myself." "If I have my way," I interjected, "that problem will be solved very shortly." Zack looked at me with such admiration, I almost blushed from pride. "We've got to go. Can Rascal get a message to you at your e-mail address?" "Sure." "I mean, nobody else reads 'em?" "Just me." "C'mon Rascal. Get dressed, we've got work to do." Zack, although not happy, was at least a little more hopeful by the time we left the library. Once we were back in the car--Ryan driving--he asked pensively, "You gonna tell Coach?" "He'll understand, don't you think?" We discussed the ins and outs, the upside and downside of it all during our drive back to Ryan's place. I dropped him off and went home to plan the best way to go about executing my plan. Before I knew it, it was time for bed before work on Sunday. When I got home from work on Sunday, the phone was ringing. It was Rascal's mother, Amanda. She was so distraught I could hardly understand her. 'Ryan,' 'hospital' and 'emergency room' were all I needed to hear and I said, "I'll be right there." By the time I got there, Lyle was sitting in the waiting area comforting Amanda. I didn't want to upset her by having her reiterate the details so I didn't ask what happened--only how he was. "He's been beaten pretty badly." Lyle said. "He's got a fractured kneecap, a broken femur, and a broken arm." "And his hand. Don't forget his hand," Amanda said between sobs. "Amanda," I said, "he's gonna be okay. He's not gonna let this set him back any. You know that." With a weak smile, she said, "Yeah, I know." "Nothing helps the healing process more than love and he's got plenty of that to draw on. You, Lyle, Taylor, Tyler ..." "Jamie, Jeremy, Juanita," Lyle said. "He gonna be overflowing with love," I said. Lyle grinned at me lasciviously and I thought about what I'd said. What I read in Lyle's expression was, 'Yeah, he'll have love cumming out the ass!' "I thought laughter was the best medicine," Lyle said, trying to lighten Amanda's spirits. "If I know Ryan," I said, "he's in there jokin' with the doctors right now." "I hope so," Amanda said. We all three kind of wound down at the same time and it got quiet for a while. A doctor came over about twenty minutes later. "We'll be moving Ryan to his room shortly. It'll take a few minutes to get him settled in and then you can see him. The cafeteria's open 24 hours if you want to get some coffee or something to eat." "What room?" Amanda asked. "Stop back at the nurses station down there," the doctor said, pointing to a horseshoe-shaped desk, "in a half hour and they'll be able to tell you." "Thank you," Lyle said to the doctor as he urged Amanda toward the elevators. "I could eat a sandwich or something." "I couldn't eat a bite," Amanda said. After I grabbed a soup and salad special and Lyle nabbed the last Reuben sandwich, Amanda picked up a fruit plate--the large size, not the small one. While Amanda paid and we went ahead to claim a table, Lyle said, "Ryan was already in surgery by the time Amanda got to the hospital so she has no idea what he's going to look like when we finally get to see him. Let's take our time eating, to give Amanda a chance to calm down before seeing Ryan." I was anxious to see Ryan but I took my time like Lyle suggested. As it turned out, after we got up to his room, I wasn't as ready as I thought I was for what I saw when we walked in. Even so, I smiled, hoping Ryan wouldn't read on my face how bad he looked. His left leg was in traction, hanging from a sling-like device. His left arm was in a cast and kept out at an angle from his body by some metal bridge-like structure. His right leg was in a cast from the knee down to and including his foot--except his toes. His right hand had bandages wrapped around it the size of a football. The only thing that wasn't damaged--as far as I could see--was his face. 'How can you smile at a time like this?' I thought as I looked at Ryan's bright smile. I could tell it wasn't 'put on' either. It was a genuine Rascal smile. Lyle helped hold Amanda up long enough to get her over to the chair. Thankfully, she was so shocked she couldn't scream. I'm sure it would have disturbed the whole orthopedic wing if she had. Although he was sedated, Ryan was able to tell us what happened-- even if his speech was a bit slurred. "I was leaving the gym after helping Coach with a few things." I wondered if it was the thing between his legs. "Anyway, when I walked out, some guy swung a lead pipe at my right shin and when I heard it crack, I knew it was broken. It hurt so bad, I fell over." Amanda sucked in a deep breath but still couldn't speak. "That's when he hit my left leg and broke my kneecap. I knew it was dislocated 'cuz when I curled into a ball like I'd been taught in self-defense class, I felt it move around in there--you know, to the side of my leg." Amanda whimpered but didn't say anything. I was getting the impression that her desire to hear what happened strongly overrode her desire to comfort him at the moment. "When I covered my head with my arms, he hit this arm," Ryan said, nodding toward the arm perched on the 'bridge.' He kept beating me and one of his blows struck this hand and he broke my fingers." "You did the right thing." Lyle said. "You learned what they taught you in self-defense class and reacted just exactly the way you should have." Amanda finally couldn't handle her grief any longer and began to sob. Lyle ushered her out into the hall. "C'mon, we can't upset him, honey." "Bones heal, Mom. I'll be okay," Ryan shouted after her as they were leaving. "Who did this to you?" I asked. "Don't know." Ryan slurred. "Don't know or won't tell?" "Don't know. It was so sudden and so unexpected. Because I'd been taught to protect my head, I couldn't even LOOK at him." "Don't blow smoke up my ass, Ryan. If you know who it is, you've gotta tell me." "Daddy Two, I don't know. I really don't." When he said 'Daddy Two' I knew he was telling the truth. "Do you need anything?" "A kiss." I looked over my shoulder to make sure Amanda wasn't walking in, leaned down and gently kissed his lips. "I love you, Rascal. You've gotta get better real soon." Ryan closed his eyes, smiled and was asleep before I knew it. I stepped out in the hall and told Lyle and Amanda that Ryan was asleep. "Why don't you guys go home and get some sleep. I'll stay here in case he wakes up. I'm pretty sure he won't. He's pretty drugged up." After a normal reluctance on Amanda's part, Lyle convinced her to go home so she'd be fresh in the morning when Ryan might need her. After they left, I settled in for a long night. As expected, Ryan didn't wake up all night. Amanda relieved me around six in the morning but Ryan didn't wake up before I left. I raced home, showered, changed clothes and went to work. My mind wasn't on work until after I called the hospital. Amanda answered and held the phone to Ryan's ear so I would talk to him. My afternoon went much better knowing he was in good spirits and not in pain. After more than twelve hours at the hospital, Amanda was more than ready to get out of there. She said she'd be back in a couple of hours but Ryan convinced her to get a good night's rest. When I reminded her she'd probably be up there again--all day Tuesday--she agreed not to come back. "Have you seen Jeremy today?" Ryan asked. "No," I said, "I thought it was more important to come see you." "You think he could come down here? I didn't get to see him yesterday OR today. He's gonna think I've forgotten him." "I think he'll forgive you once he finds out why you didn't show up. After all, he's only got a broken collarbone." "Maybe you can go get him. No wait! Get the phone for me, will you?" "How can I say no?" I was amazed that Ryan was virtually a basket cripple but he was worried about Jeremy. I dialed Jeremy's room and put the phone to his ear . "J man, it's me. Sorry about not hangin' with ya yesterday but can I get you do me a favor anyway?" I'm pretty sure the muffled sound I heard from the phone was "What's that?" "Could you come to room 1327. It on the same floor you're on but at the other end of the wing. I'd come down there but I wanna kinda stick right here right now." It was said in a very nonchalant, everyday tone of voice. "Yeah, everything's okay. I'll tell you all about it when you get here," Ryan said. "Done?" I asked. "Yeah, he'll be here any minute. I think you should pull the curtain closed partway, so he can't see me when he first comes in. That way, he'll be close enough for you to catch him if he faints." "Ryan, this is NOT a good idea." "You sit in the chair where he can see you ... and act casual," Ryan urged pleadingly. "This is cruel, Ryan," I warned. "You wouldn't want him to do this to you." Nevertheless, I drew the curtain around to the first curve and sat at an angle so I could see Ryan in the bed and the hallway door, too. We were quiet for a couple of minutes while we waited for Jeremy before Ryan said, "Shit!" "What?" I asked, worried. "I should have had you give me a blowjob before he got here. Just look at the sheet." Rascal junior was tenting the sheet obscenely. "We'll have to check with your doctors before we engage in any sexual activity." "But my boner!" "Shhh!" "Hey, Spunky," Jeremy said as he walked into the room wearing pajama bottoms, the obligatory open-backed smock and blue sponge rubber slippers. Ryan and the others used my nickname so often that Jeremy had started calling me that, too. Then, as he came around the curtain, he screamed, "Jesus! Ryan! Oh my god!" "Yeah, I've seen better looking road kill," Ryan smiled. "The doctor's allowed you to see what you look like?" Jeremy said in astonishment. Pointing one finger toward the plate glass window--the only finger he could move without pain--Ryan said, "They make great mirrors." Jeremy looked at the dark night sky and saw their reflections perfectly. "Do you know who did it?" "No." "Not even a clue?" "Some guy with a lead pipe." "Ryan ... if you know who did it, you can tell ME, even if you DON'T want to tell the cops for some reason." "Reason?" Ryan asked with a look of incomprehension. "Like maybe it was someone you were with, you know ... what you DO. I thought the guy might have been a ... uh ..." "I know. But I can't. I don't know WHO it was." "I won't tell anyone, I promise." "Jeremy ... I don't KNOW who it was. I was with Coach, helping clean up. When I left, I got jumped." "What did he smell like?" "What!" "Garlic breath? Fishy smelling hands? Did he smell like BO or Old Spice or ...?" "I never got that close. Once he knocked my legs out from under me and I knew I couldn't stand up to fight him, I had to curl into a ball with my arms over my head. That's what I've been taught. When you realize you can't fight back--protect your head and your groin. Bones will heal, brains don't always fare as well. As for the groin, well, I don't plan to have kids but I still have a lot of fun planned for my thigh bangers." "I swear, Ryan, I can't believe you're taking this so lightly. If it were ME, I'd be beating the bushes looking for clues." "That's the difference between you and me." "What?" "You beat the bush, I beat the meat," Ryan said, with a chuckle. The chuckle erupted into a coughing fit, causing him to wince in pain. "What can I do?" Jeremy shouted, looking at me for answers. "He'll be all right. They want him to cough every once in a while to keep his lungs clears." "But not like this!" Jeremy said in disbelief as he watched Ryan grimace again. A moment later, just as quickly as the coughing started, it stopped. "Did you know your cough muscle is directly connected to your asshole muscle?" Jeremy frowned like he didn't know what Ryan was getting at. When Ryan recovered a little more, I explained, "Once the guy knew Ryan couldn't fight back ... he kicked him. The toe of his shoe landed one hellava bruiser on Ryan's butt hole." "Oh, man," Jeremy said with a wince of his own, just thinking about the impact. "Is there anything I can do? I mean, I feel terrible. I promised to protect you and LOOK at you!" "Jeremy," I consoled, "this is NOT your fault." "Yeah, there is something you can do for me," Ryan said, in a weak, pathetic voice. "Just name it, Rascal," Jeremy said with such sincerity it just about broke my heart, "I'll do it." "You can kiss my boo boo and make it feel better." Ryan grinned rather than giggle this time. "At least he hasn't lost his sense of humor," I said. "Bare it," Jeremy said, "I owe you, man." "Just jokin', good buddy. I wouldn't do that to you. After all, you're no mental giant when it comes to matching wits with me." "I'll do it! I promised!" Jeremy said. "I'd fuckin' jack you off if I thought it would help." "Maybe later," Ryan said, "it'll help me sleep better." "Ryan," I warned. "Oh, I forgot, I've got Daddy Two here for that. He gets jealous when I let anyone else touch his toy." Jeremy rolled his eyes at Ryan's lame excuse. He apparently wasn't enjoying Ryan's light-hearted banter, so I sliced my flattened fingers across my throat indicating for Ryan to cut it out. Frowning in thoughtfulness, Jeremy said, "Oh, god, Ryan ... now I know how it must have been for my brother Brad." "What was?" "Wanting to protect mom and not being able to. I get it now. He wanted to do something but he wasn't old enough or strong enough. And BECAUSE he was so ... powerless, he got so angry about his ... impotence, he took it out on me. Just like I want to go out and beat up somebody for doing this to you. It's like ANYbody would do right now, just so I could pound 'em." "You don't mean that, Jeremy," Ryan said, scolding. "You fight injustice with the voice of reason and kindness." "Ryan, I mean it. If I knew who the guy was, he'd be dead. He'd come up missing and never be found." "Don't talk like that, Jeremy," I said. "You need to calm down." "But I promised to protect him," Jeremy whined in agony, "and I failed." Tears welled in his eyes but they didn't spill over. I couldn't tell if the tears were because of Ryan's pain or if they were from Jeremy feeling badly about not being able to protect Ryan. Either way, I figured Jeremy needed comforting, too. "There's no way you can be with Ryan 24/7. That's why his dad has him taking self- defense classes." "For all the good it does. Look at him," Jeremy said bitterly. "It sounds to me like you're more upset that you couldn't protect him than you are about him not being able to protect himself," I said. "It's not all about you. It's about me, his dad, the coach, everyone." "He's right," Ryan said. "Two unarmed guys against a guy with a lead pipe--well, the confrontation is gonna go in favor of the lead pipe. Hell, once I was down, he could have come after you and you'd be as beat up as I am." Shaking his head like he didn't want to admit it, Jeremy said, "I guess you're right. I'm not much of a fighter." "Besides," Ryan said, "you've got a great chance at a football career. Me ... all I've got is a mediocre chance at being one hellava porn star." Jeremy smiled. I saw Ryan's eyes beginning to droop. Getting up to walk Jeremy to the door, I said, "Let's let Ryan get some rest, okay?" "Hey, what about my handjob?" Ryan said as we left. I knew Ryan was stable and only needed to mend so I walked Jeremy back to his room. On the way, Jeremy stopped near the elevators. It was one of the small areas the hospital set aside with a comfortable sofa and chair. He sat down heavily. "Spunky," Jeremy said, "is Rascal telling me the truth? I mean, he's never lied to me before, but I guess there's always a first time for everything." "I'm sure of it," I said. "But more importantly, don't beat yourself up over this. Even if you'd been there, you couldn't have prevented it. You've got a broken collarbone." "But I might have got a good look at him. Or he might not have attacked if there were two of us. Or ..." "Your being there might have only postponed the beating. The guy would keep stalking Ryan until the perfect opportunity arose. Besides, whoever did this to Ryan would have come after you, too." "How can you be sure?" "By the amount of damage he did. Anyone just looking to HURT Ryan would have quit after he broke the first bone. This guy was a maniac. He meant to kill Ryan but for some reason, he didn't succeed. Once Ryan was down, the guy would have attacked you. If he'd landed one good blow to your head, you could be in a coma right now." Jeremy was shaking his head in disbelief. I said, "Trust me, I've seen 'get even' beatings and beatings by a maniac and there's a difference." A quizzical look crossed Jeremy's face. "When I was ... " I looked back over my shoulder, "... working with the prison system." "Oh," Jeremy said accepting my explanation of Ryan's condition as valid. "As far as retaliation, you can be sure Lyle will find out who did it." "Yeah, I guess you're right," Jeremy said uneasily. "And Ryan knows a lot of state police officers," I said. "Yeah, he does," Jeremy said, "if the tent sale is any indication." I smiled remembering the 'Cop a Feel' popcorn sale. "They'll do everything they can to find the guy." "When Kevin finds out, he'll want a piece of the guy, too," Jeremy said. Then, after a moment to think, he added, "I want to be there." "I'm not sure you'll be able to watch what Kevin will do to the guy. I mean, after the popcorn sale ..." "That was my dad ... and ... well, Ryan and I talked." "I guessed as much but, just so you know, he's never mentioned a word of it to me or his dad." With a look of shock, Jeremy said, "Well, he could have! Nothing happened ... you know, sexual! We just talked!" Comfortingly I said, "That's probably why he's never said anything. We--Lyle and I--know he'd tell us if something DID happen. I mean ... he wouldn't go into detail but he'd say something like, 'We fucked around,' and that would be it." "Yeah but ..." "We know you're straight. We know that not every guy Ryan meets gets the honor of partaking of his personal fruit basket." Jeremy smiled. "We mostly talked about my dad and my brother that day after the tent sale. Especially my brother. All this time, I thought he beat up on me because he hated me for some reason. I could never figure out why he would be so nice SOME times and not others." "He explained that, though, right?" "Yeah. I knew Dad was feeling me up and putting his middle finger ... well, you know where, but I never knew he was actually butt fuckin' Brad. Oh, man, that must have been ... disgusting!" "Because it was his dad doing it?" "Yeah. No. I mean, being FORCED to do it was bad enough but for it to be your own dad forcing you, damn!" I nodded my head, understanding where Jeremy was coming from. "If Brad had WANTED to ... you know, that would have been different. Actually," Jeremy said, thoughtfully, "I'll bet dad made him suck him, too. God! How gross." "Under those circumstances, I'd have to agree but the act itself isn't gross," I said. "Ohmigod!" Jeremy shouted. Then, in a whisper as he looked around the vacant lobby area, he said, "I'm not saying what YOU guys do is gross ... even though it's not anything I'd ever do. The way Ryan talks about it, it's like a ... a ..." "... a momentary visit to heaven?" "Yeah! Sometimes, when he's talking about it, I almost think ..." "You think maybe you'd like to try it?" "Yeah. NO! Not DOING it! I'd like to get to a place in my life ... a comfortable zone where I could let Juanita ... you know, blow me." Then with downcast eyes and a bit of a blush he said, "I'm still a virgin to everything but my own hand. Remember when we had crossover day at school and you helped sell cookies? Well, right after we were done in the boys' room, you know ... after we had ..." I made a 'jack-off' motion with my hand. "Yeah, I remember--a favorite memory of mine, actually." Jeremy blushed. "Well, I told you I'd never done 'it' with another guy." "Yeah." I said it casually without any tone of acceptance OR disbelief. "There was something else I wanted to tell you but there wasn't time. You asked if I thought my dick was gonna fall of because we, you know, did what we did. Well, I told you I had something to tell you." "Oh, yeah, you told me you'd tell me later." "Well, while we were jackin' off in the boys' room, I was thinkin' how nice it would be if I could do ... jack off ... in front of Juanita. You know, her doin' it, too--doin' herself, I mean. Then I got to thinkin' ... it wasn't so bad doin' it with you. In fact, I was thinkin' that doin' it with you was hot, real hot ... just before I shot my load." "Well, it doesn't make you queer, so don't lose any sleep over it." "That's nice to know." "But if you ever want to try it again, just to prove that it can be stimulating, let me know. I don't have any written contractual agreement with Juanita, you know." I smiled good-naturedly. Jeremy smiled. "I'll let you know." "There's a lot to be said for abstinence." "Yeah. I think it's called blueballs. The thing is, I see all these other guys gettin' laid--hear about it, not actually see it--and I think I'm being cheated out of a big part of my life." "An 'important' part but not a 'big part'," I said. "I've seen your dick, remember? And it ain't that big," I chuckled. Jeremy laughed along with me. "You guys can talk about this, even joke about it, but I'm so fuckin' up tight about it I could ... damn I hate my old man!" Jeremy immediately calmed down and said, "But that kid in there, has helped me out so much, there's nothing I wouldn't do for him." Then with a look of horror, he quickly added, "I wouldn't blow him or anything but ..." "I know what you mean," I consoled. "And I know Ryan would never hold you to any stupid promise you made out of your devotion to him." "After we left the tent sale, we went back to my place. My fosters weren't home so the three of us went up to my room. They know I take Juanita up there all the time. It's okay with them because they know nothing ever happens. Anyway, all we had on were the robes and Ryan flopped down in the chair, opened his robe and said, 'Let's not try to hide shit from each other anymore. You too, Juanita. Let's get undressed, just to prove we have nothing to hide.' Like I say, it was the night of the tent sale." "The night he slept over at your house." "Yeah, Juanita was there, too--all night!" Jeremy said to clarify, no doubt, that nothing 'gay' happened. "He told me he loved me ... the way Juanita loves me." Then almost tearfully Jeremy said, "But I just can't love him back--not in the same way. And YET, I'd do anything for him. In that respect, I love him more than my own brother." Then Jeremy got that frightened look again like he had said something he shouldn't have. "You know, Jeremy, whenever the two of US are talking about Ryan, you don't have to feel uncomfortable. I know Ryan. I know you. I know you're straight. You can tell me what you two talk about and I won't read anything sexual into it." Bowing his head, he said, "I know." "You're handling things just fine, right now--and so is Ryan. He's just happy to have you as a friend," I said consolingly. Even so, Jeremy's hospital robe had slipped open and I saw his gown tenting. I wondered if it was from all this talk about Juanita. "I hope so," Jeremy said. "I sure as hell don't want to lose him as a friend. You know, that night, while we were talking, Ryan would get a boner and it would go away, then I'd get one and I was so embarrassed. But he just kept on talking like nothing was different. He said, 'So long as I'm alive, you'll have the security of knowing I'll be there for you.'" "He's a pretty deep thinker for all his outward appearance of being just a lustful airhead." "I found that out later that night when we talked about my dad and Brad. We even talked about Juanita a little ... and I got another boner." "When they first met," I said, "Ryan thought Juanita was ... how did he put it? 'Liking me a little too much a little too soon.'" "She just couldn't be around him enough," Jeremy agreed. "At first I thought she was falling in love with Ryan. Then, later, I thought we were seeing so much of each other because SHE thought I wanted to ... be ... to go ..." "Gay?" "Yeah. There was even a time when I thought she was trying to turn Ryan bisexual just so we could have a three-way ... you know, to find out if I was gay ... since she and I never ... uh ..." "Did the deed?" "Yeah." "Well, you see, Ryan thought SHE wanted to have a three-way hoping YOU would make a move on her before Ryan did." "So I wouldn't have to take sloppy seconds?" "So you could say YOU took her cherry, at least that's what I think she was hoping for. In my opinion, for Juanita anyway, Ryan would only have been a means to an end. A pawn in her master plan to get in YOUR pants!" "Well, that makes me feel a little better. Even so, I eventually realized that spending so much time with Ryan was just the effect Ryan has on some people." "I know that feeling," I acknowledged. "Then he said something that, at the time, I thought was strange. He said the only way to get through life with the least grief is to get in touch with my feminine side." "You know, that doesn't mean you have to dress up like a woman," I said. "Yeah, that's what he said, too. It means my softer side, my emotions, my .... Well, anyway, I'm actually making some headway with that. At least Juanita says I'm more considerate of her." Jeremy stood up and I saw his hospital gown was tenting slightly. "Maybe you should close your bathrobe," I said. He looked down and quickly wrapped his robe around him. "It's all this talk about Juanita." "Yeah. Talking about Ryan has the same effect on me," I said with a grin. "How are things going between you two ... Juanita, I mean, since the tent sale?" "Better. Much better. I still have some ... issues but she's patient," Jeremy said as he fumbled with the sash, trying to get it tied. Looking around to insure that we were still alone, he said, "We've started ... masturbating together. A couple of nights after the sale, Juanita convinced me she'd really like to watch me, you know ..." and Jeremy made a jackoff motion. "'Whatever it takes,' is my motto." "I felt funny doing it in front of her but she really looked interested--excited even. A day or two after that, she asked if she could ... play with herself while I jacked off. We've been doing it like that ever since." "Good for you." "To tell the truth," Jeremy said, "if you and I hadn't done it in the bathroom at school, I don't think I would have given in to her. So, I guess, I owe you a debt of gratitude for ..." "For forcing the issue?" "For cracking my shell, at least. That's made some of the things I'm starting to do a whole lot easier. I don't know how I can thank you." "Let's go back to your room and take care of that before you make a mess here in the hall." "Us or me?" "YOU if you feel uncomfortable but US if you don't mind. I've kinda gotta a problem, here, and I don't have a robe to hide mine." "Let's go." When we got to the room, Jeremy got in bed while I drew the curtain all the way around. I knew nurses usually announced themselves before pulling back a closed curtain. Raising his index finger to his lips in the 'shhh' motion and jerking his head toward his roommate's bed on the other side of the curtain, he indicated for me not to say anything incriminating. I nodded in agreement as I unzipped. I had to unbutton my jeans, too, because my dick was just hard enough that I couldn't drag it through the opening of my fly. Jeremy wasn't as enthusiastic about revealing himself but he kept his eye on my cock, nonetheless. I flipped it at him to break his concentration. As he looked into my eyes, he slowly drew his dick out of the fly of his pajama bottoms. I stroked myself leisurely, waiting for Jeremy to catch up. He started stroking and I stepped a little closer to the bed, resting my thighs against the mattress for support. He nodded like he understood I would need the assist once I started cumming. Once I started stroking, Jeremy looked away and it took a while before he glanced in my direction. When he saw I was staring blatantly at his jackoff hand, he alternated between looking at his own cock and mine. I changed up the rhythm and tempo of my stroke and even did some swirly motions around my cockhead. A moment or two later, he tried the same motion. As I started to ooze pre-cum, I used my left index finger to bring some to my tongue. Jeremy shook his head adamantly like there was no way I was going to convince him to taste his own. I nodded accepting his decision. I whispered, "It's not something everyone has a taste for." Jeremy looked over at his roommate's drawn curtain. Again, in a whisper, I said, "He doesn't know what we're talking about." "Oh, yeah," Jeremy sighed. "May I?" I asked, raising the index finger I'd used to scoop up my pre-cum and pointing it at Jeremy's pre-cum. His eyes rounded in fright. "It's not like I haven't touched it before," I whispered. A shudder coursed through Jeremy. "Okay, but just the juice, please. I'm just not ready to ..." "I understand, Jeremy. I don't want to do anything that would send you back to square one." "Yeah, I know, Spunky. I just don't know why I can't let it go." I leaned slightly to gently touch the drop that was beginning to trickle off the head of Jeremy's cock. Then I pulled away, trailing a streamer as I brought it to my mouth. Jeremy watched my reaction closely. "Ummm, tasty. Not as good as 'fruit' juice but not bad." I used one hand to make quote marks as I said "fruit." The other was busy stroking. Jeremy smiled. With my dick pointing in his direction, I asked, "Want to give me a hand with this?" Again he looked toward the curtain, thought about what I said and realized his roommate would have no way of knowing what we were doing. "Yeah, I'd like that. I'm trying to ease myself into ... resolving my problem by being more open when it comes to others ... you know, Juanita ... and Ryan of course." Then he gently held my dick-- barely enough pressure for me to know he was holding it. "So you and Ryan have ..." "He convinced me ..." "Gee, why am I not surprised?" I said, rolling my eyes. Jeremy grinned and gripped a little harder before he began stroking me. The strokes he used on me were synchronized with the strokes he was using on himself. After a while, he realized he needed to make longer strokes to reach my cock head and titillate my cock crown. "Sorry," he said, "I'm not used to ..." "Not a lot of people are. I've been blessed." "Fuckin' A." Jeremy got pensive for a while as he stroked the two of us. Then he said, "Okay, you do it but let go if I tell you to." I drew a cross over my heart with my index finger. Jeremy removed his hand from his cock and closed his eyes, steeling himself for the first touch. He continued to jack my cock nonetheless--almost mechanically. "Open your eyes. You need to see for yourself that everything's gonna be all right." It took a moment but he opened them. I reached for his dick and gently lifted his erection off his belly, using just the tips of three fingers. I slid my flattened hand under his cock and held it there. A rush of air escaped his lungs like he had just released a ton of tension. "Look at me. Who am I?" "Spunky," he said like I was crazy. "That's right. Who's your friend?" "You are," he said, as he looked into my eyes. His expression showed he was slowly realizing this was a learning lesson. "And what do friend do for each other?" "They help each other, protect each other ..." "And respect each other," I said comfortingly. "Yeah," Jeremy said with a quick glance from my eyes to my hand and back, "I can see that. I can feel that ... the respect." "I'm glad," I said, sincerely. Then, without warning, Jeremy started crying. Not the sobbing kind but the weeping kind. I thought, 'What the fuck have you done to the poor boy now? You know he's fragile when it comes to touching.' It was then that I realized he had stopped stoking me but he hadn't let go. But he hadn't demanded that I let go of him, either. "Jeremy, tell me ..." He had to release my cock to raise his good arm up to me like he wanted to hug me. I leaned over and he pulled me to him. In a tear- induced whisper he said, "That was the problem. I never felt the respect. That's what I've been missing. With dad it was all about him--never about what I needed. Oh, god, thank you Spunky, that's what I needed to realize. It wasn't about ME! It was about HIM! Thank you. Thank you." "So you're okay?" I asked hopefully. "More than okay. I finally get it. I can do this. I can get over this." Then to my surprise, Jeremy let go of me and began searching for my cock. "It's okay," he said nodding toward his cock. "I understand now. And I really need to ... you know," he said looking at the curtain again. I began jacking his cock in earnest. Within a minute or two, he was ready to unload because he said, "Get me a Kleenex, please." As much as I would liked to have sucked the cum out of his lube tube, I decided not to suggest it. From where I was standing, I was able to pull a tissue out of the box and hand it to him. Instead of taking it from me, he asked, "Could you catch it? I've got this broken collar bone, you know." Then he grinned from ear to ear. He was obviously proud of the fact that he could finally allow someone to not only touch him but catch his pearls of passion, too. "My pleasure," I said, proud that he was allowing me to be the first. The quietest "Unngh" I'd ever heard barely escaped his throat as he ejaculated. His hips jerked with each spurt. When his stomach spasms stopped, I lifted the Kleenex away from his piss slit. His head lolled back on the pillow. Then soundlessly he mouthed, "Thanks." I gently removed Jeremy's hand from my dick and began a full- fledged assault on my cock. "Sorry, I just ..." "No problem. I'm kinda used to it. It comes with the territory," I said, thinking about all the guys I'd gotten off in my life only to have them fall asleep on me--or worse yet, get up and go home. Even so, Jeremy watched as I jerked myself off. I reached for another Kleenex. "Let me see how much you shoot," he whispered. "Ryan says it's a ton." "You saw me cum in the boys' room at school, didn't you?" "Fuck, I was so nervous, I didn't know if I should shit or go blind. I didn't see a thing." Smiling at his witticism, I held the Kleenex flat in the palm of my left hand and aimed my cock at it. Just knowing Jeremy was interested in my output caused my 'nads to go into "over-production" mode and I started shooting a huge load. It even impressed me. Before I was even done shooting, I got so weak I had to turn and rest my butt on the edge of Jeremy's bed. "Man!" Jeremy said, "Fuckin' awesome!" Breathily, I said, "Anything for a friend." Jeremy smiled. Once I recovered, I tucked, buttoned and zipped. "You gonna be okay?" I asked concerned, now that the full effect of what we'd done had a chance to sink in. "Absolutely." "No guilt? No regrets?" "None whatsoever. Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you. Anything." "Within reason," I added, implying he should be cautious with his promises. "I'm gonna go check on Ryan." "Tell him I said 'hi.'" "Before you even ask, it'll be up to YOU to let him know what happened here. If you decide you want him to know, that is. Okay?" With an angelic quality to his voice he said, "Yeah, I'll tell him ... for sure." "Good. Get some rest. You've got a bone to heal." "It's gonna heal just fine from now on," Jeremy said, patting his softening cock. I left the curtain drawn when I left. On the way back to Ryan's room I thought about the breakthrough Jeremy had just experienced. I knew, although I was there, that I was not the reason for the breakthrough. I might have helped, but without Ryan breaking the way ahead of me--like an icebreaker across a lake--Jeremy would still be frozen in that hard cold place he'd just escaped from. Ryan had soften up Jeremy's resistance to change and that allowed whatever just happened to happen. As I approached Ryan's room, I decided I wasn't going to over-analyze it because I was happy for Jeremy--that was enough. "Ya know how we experimented with golden showers?" Ryan asked the moment I got back--like I'd never left. "Yeah," I said, warily, hoping he wasn't going to suggest that we engage in such activity in his hospital room--especially with all the plaster casts. "Make a note ... it's not as much fun in a hospital bed." "You didn't!" I half-shouted. I was glad, because of his multiple injuries, he was in a private room. "Well," Ryan said, batting his 'Rascal' eyes, "I had to go and I couldn't reach the buzzer so I figured, since I'd peed on myself before, it would be okay but then I had to lay here in it for over a half hour before anyone heard me calling for help and the pee got cold and it got real uncomfortable. Did you know there's a rubber sheet under this one?" "Yeah, I get the idea," I said, hoping he'd take a breath before he passed out. "You wanna know the worst part?" "There's a worse part?" "It was a woman who cleaned me up. I mean, I thought it would be a guy. After all, an innocent young man like me shouldn't have to endure the embarrassment of having a woman seeing his developing manhood, should he? There should be a law that says ... uh ... if a guy's old enough to go to the bathroom in public without having to go in the ladies room with his mom, then ... uh ... men should help you go to the bathroom in a hospital." "I'll have the state legislature look into that." "Did you know that I can't take this leg out of this sling for three weeks! I had to poop and they put this plastic dish under me. It was curled up on the sides like ...." "I know what a bedpan is. Just consider yourself lucky. The last time I had to use one, they were still using stainless steel bedpans. Talk about cold!" "You never told me you were hospitalized." "It was when I was getting my education at the state-run ... uh, university." "Oh, there." Ryan said wrinkling his nose like he understood the hospital care at the penitentiary wasn't as friendly as it was here. "So, you gonna jack me off?" "Huh?" I asked, thinking Jeremy had already called. Then it occurred to me that Ryan couldn't answer the phone even if he wanted to. "Jeremy promised to do it before he left but you'll do," Ryan said with that impish smile of his I could never refuse. I knew, too, that if I didn't do it, Ryan would embarrass the whole staff--in one way or another--until he got some relief. "Let me clear it with the doctor, first. I'll be right back." "I'll be right here." I smiled at his valiant attitude under such adverse conditions. I found a male doctor--Dr. Wasserdyne--who was willing to review Ryan's chart once I told him what the concern was. He told me it would be okay. As I left, I heard the doctor say, "Room 1327 needs thirty minutes of quiet time. Don't schedule any tests or vital signs until uh ... let's say ... twenty-three hundred. I looked at my watch and saw that eleven PM gave us almost forty- five minutes. When I walked in, I said, "Sorry, Rascal, the doctor said no sex for six weeks." "What!" he shouted before he saw me smile. Then, in a grandmotherly voice I said, "That nice doctor out there even made sure we wouldn't be disturbed." "Really? You mean we could ... do we have time to ... can we ...?" "Yes, yes, and I don't think so," I said, reminding Ryan that he doesn't always finish his sentences when he's excited--sexually excited anyway. I reached my hand under the sheet and gripped my favorite little soldier. I thought 'Ryan's dick could be the perfect prototype for a weapon. Hand held, small enough to be concealed, but as powerful as a Howitzer.' Using my free hand, I lifted the sheet, stuck my head under and began sucking his erection. "Oh, god, Spunky, you do that so well. I could have a thousand lovers in my lifetime and none will ever be as good as you." I mumbled around his cock, "Except Lyle." He tried to lift his hips to thrust into my mouth. Grunting in reaction to his bones aching from the sudden motion he said "Aaagh! Shit that hurt!" "If it hurts, you're doing it all wrong," an unfamiliar voice said. I just about broke my neck when the sheet got wrapped around my head as I tried to get out from under it. I looked up and saw Dr. Wasserdyne standing there. I felt myself blush. "I forgot to tell you, don't change his position. He needs to remain in traction." "That's okay," Ryan said, "I've been wanting to try sex in a sling, anyway." "Ryan," I scolded. "Well, that'll have to wait until your bones heal." Then deliberately looking at Ryan's rampant hard-on, he added, "All but that one. From the way you're treating that one, it'll never heal." "Uh," I said eloquently. "By the way, what you were doing is probably the best way to help him out. The 'other way' COULD cause just enough jerking around of his bones that we'd have to reset them every day." "Three times a day," Ryan said proudly. Dr. Wasserdyne raised one eyebrow. "Or more ... trust me," I said. "There's just one thing, Mr. Hickey ..." then the doctor's beeper went off. After checking it, he said, "Gotta go. Could you check with me before you leave?" "Uh, sure. Uh, you're not gonna send me to the principal's office, are you?" "No, just doin' my job." Then he left. "What was that all about?" "He wants to talk to me before we do anything that could undo what they're trying to fix." "Is it okay to undo the ache in my balls?" "Uh, yeah, but let's pull this curtain all the way closed, Honey," I said, "you can't move a muscle while I do you. If you do, you could dislocate your knee again or move your bones out of alignment and you'll have deformed limbs the rest of your life." "I promise, I won't move. I just gotta get my nutts off." "I'm not sure this is such a good idea." "It's either you, or I seduce an orderly ... and I'm sure the one I choose won't care if I get hurt or not!" "Okay, okay, just stay calm." "That would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" Then authoritatively he said, "Spunky, get between my legs ... now!" "Yes, master," I said in a zombie-like voice. I put one hand between his legs to support as much of my weight as possible. The other I propped against his pillow to keep me from falling into him. Then I began sucking. "Yeah, that's what I need. Damn, Uncle Dickey, I just can't get enough of you. I swear, you are the best argument I know for why we should allow cloning of humans." I cringed when he used the word 'uncle' and I hoped Dr. Wasserdyne wasn't within earshot. Even so, it was too late now. I eased my right hand up the bed so I could tickle Ryan's balls while I sucked him. I also thought about how happy he was going to be when I brought up his vibrator--once his butt hole healed from the guy's boot to the ass. That at least would help Lyle and me get him off when sucking wasn't possible. 'Even Tyler could do it if we taught him how,' I thought. 'Or Taylor.' "Gettin' close. It's been so long, I can't hold back much longer." "Unnngh unngh," I said, trying to let him know it was okay to pop a quick nutt. "Aaagh!" Ryan groaned a little too loudly as I felt his boy juice squirt powerfully against the back of my mouth, almost gagging me. 'Hopefully the nurses are used to sudden cries of agonized pain and won't come running,' I prayed. Once Ryan calmed down, I saw he was getting drowsy. I said, "Think you'll be able to sleep through the night?" "No." "Why not?" I asked with genuine concern. "They keep wakin' me up to take my blood pressure and temperature and shit like that." "Oh," I said, glad to hear it wasn't because of pain. "Are they still giving you pain medication?" "Yeah. They gave me one just before you got back." "Is there somewhere I can put the buzzer that you can reach it?" "No, the nurses tried last night but it kept slipping down where I couldn't reach it." "Hummm," I hummed as I twisted the cord around the bed's side rail several times. Then I loosened the coils I'd created enough that I could push the call button device under the cord coils which held it in place. "I'll bring some duct tape tomorrow." "Thanks, Daddy Two," Ryan said sleepily. "I love you." "I love you, too," I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He raised his chin so I kissed him on the mouth instead. "See you tomorrow?" "Uh huh," and he was asleep. I guess the pain medicine helped make him sleep, too. I stopped at the nurses station and told them Dr. Wasserdyne wanted to talk to me. They directed me to a small office between their station and a supply closet. "As a physician," Dr. Wasserdyne said, wasting no time, "I have to tell you, what I saw earlier went beyond what I thought you were talking about with that young man." "In what way?" I asked confused. 'Actually,' I thought 'it was pretty tame considering SOME of the things Ryan and I do.' "It's not every day a doctor catches a father and son--an under- aged son, I might add--engaged in such activity. As a doctor and because of confidentiality, I can't report the incident from my patient's standpoint but as a father, myself, I feel obligated to report your behavior toward my patient to the authorities." "Doctor, you don't understand ..." "If it were just ... idle curiosity--one boy to another--I could overlook it. But a father and son ..." "But I'm NOT his father ... biologically." "Step-fathers are included in the laws governing incest." "I'm not ..." "I heard him call you 'daddy,' so there's no need to deny it." "Yes, he calls me that but his real father is the one who gave me the ... title ... the designation of 'Daddy Two.'" "Because ...?" Doctor Wasserdyne asked. "Because Ryan is too much boy for one daddy to handle. He's conniving, inventive, demanding--in a loveable kind of way--and very, VERY precocious." "That's easy for you to say in your own defense but it still doesn't negate the fact that you were engaged in ... fellatio .. with ..." "Ask him!" I said, defensively. "Right now, before I have a chance to talk to him. He'll tell you the same thing. I'm not corrupting him." "Perhaps I will." "No! You have to," I said snidely. "So you'll be able to sleep well tonight." I hoped my brave front would convince him to put off notifying the cops until after he spoke to Ryan. "Why don't you go on home." Dr. Wasserdyne suggested. "Uh, yeah, I guess he's in good hands." "The best." Thanks for coming back for more. Maybe some of you readers know of websites that buy stories. Or maybe you know of agents who represent authors. If so, let me know. Thanks. Keep in touch with me at zestful@myexcel.com