This is a story about kids who seek the shelter of each other's company and sexual companionship. It has boys with boners. If you're not down with it, please move on. Obey your local laws, be good and you will eventually come to your reward, as will we all. These stories are Copyright (1999) 2000 by the author, who has placed a single copy in the Nifty Archives. No other reproduction or distribution than Nifty archives is permitted, without the author's permission. Be kind, be safe, be joyous. Be beautiful.

Luke & Loren

Chapter 1

Wherein Our Heroes Get Off Their Rock

Hi, my name is Loren, and this is about Luke and me and how we kinda beat the system.

See, Luke's my... Guess you could say my best friend, although that is a bit misleading. Well, that's good, I guess!

See, Luke and I both have sort of the same... problem, if you want to call it that.

See, we both go to the Westphalia Charter school. That's a public skewl that sort of has permission to try new things. As long as the school's test scores stay high, we stay open and the state pays for it. Westphalia Charter is basically an accelerated learning situation: every kid is on his or her own independent program, so the butt-heads tend to fall behind & get kicked out, back to the district, so that makes us kind of a smart-kid school.

See, I'm kind of halfway through 7th, by the calendar, but closer to the end of 7th, beginning of 8th on paper. According to my birthday, I should be halfway through 6th.

But that doesn't explain: See, Luke and I both got skipped a grade before our parents finally gave up and moved us to Charter. We both look pathetically young, or so the girls all seem to think. I happen to think Luke looks OK, but then, I'm completely hopeless.

I'm Loren With. Yah, I know: weird last name. He's Luke Furlow. My problem is I'm young, I look like a bird, and I'm a geek. His is... He's just young. None of the girls will even look at either one of us, and that kinda hurt and made me angry, until recently, anyway.

It sorta pissed me off: all I wanted was to be treated with a little respect. At least get a smile and a little conversation. Maybe have a shot. It sort of hurts your feelings when they totally dismiss you, you know? It's not like I hate girls. I hope to meet a friendly decent one, eventually, when I get to that point. It's just, I don't know... What does it say about the girl, if her only measure of you, when she meets you, is whether or not she wants to carry your babies? Nope. Not you. Nope, Nope, Nope. Yup! Aiyee! Falls on her back and the penis-and-money unit is to report for duty.

Geez: did I offer to LET you? You know? Like, I may be a dork, but at least I possess some higher functions? I think it says a lot more about her than she realizes.

So anyway, my problem is I look like a freakin' bird. At the beginning of last year, I had my hair down almost to my shoulders and it sorta fell over my face and into my round wire-rims and I was always brushing it away and I have these long thin arms and legs and bony fingers and, well, I sorta look like a bird.

Luke has the same color eyes as me, blue-grey, but his problem is he looks like a cherub. He's got this pinkish-blond hair and round glasses, but he's a lot stockier than me, in a little-kid looking way. Mostly rounder. If you saw him without a shirt, you'd know he's not exactly fat. He's plenty strong. It's just that when his muscles are relaxed, they look like baby fat. Plus, he actually does still have some of that and, especially in his face, it makes him look all young and chubby so none of the girls will take him seriously.

Well, anyway, since we both skipped 4th, we are both way younger-looking than the other guys in the combined 7 & 8 class. We don't get picked on, exactly: the school won't tolerate that stuff. But it's not like we get invited over to the other kids' houses much, either. And just forget the girls. They treat us both like a babysitter would. Polite, but: "Be nice and run along."

If they only knew... Well, it's good they don't.

Anyway, you get the picture: Luke and I were relegated to the category of children, rather than kids or teens, in our schoolmates' eyes.

At the Boys' and Girls' Club, it was even worse. They have a teen center. I guess you could be a 7th grader, but you have to be 13 by Christmas to get in. Neither of us qualifies any time soon. That sux. We were stuck out in the common area with the little kids. Figure it out, man! We won't be allowed in 'till we're in High School! So, we both quit going after school started. I mean, we used to take the bus there after school every day, but when we ran into the teen center thing, we just gave up and started going over to Luke's house or mine in the afternoons and hanging out there.

Luke & I have been hanging around together since he moved to town the summer before last. I used to ride my bike up the canyon road a couple of miles, to the curve right before it gets real steep, and there's this huge orange building-sized rock that sticks out and makes the creek go roaring around it. So I liked to sit up on top -- the top is level with the road, cuz the creek is 20 feet below -- up on top and hang out and read and think about stuff.

My folks are fairly cool: at least they don't think I'm a baby. For one thing, I am a grade ahead. And I know my way around. I am expert with map and compass, I'm a good shot, I can build and configure a computer. I even know a little PERL. The folks have even let me fly by myself a few times (On an airline. My arms aren't that strong.).

Luke's folks aren't quite as cool -- they can be kinda strict -- but at least they don't treat him like some kind of total ga-ga. That would suck.

So anyway, I was sitting up in the canyon on my rock, listening to the creek roar and reading, the summer before last, when I heard that sharp ticking sound a bike makes? I figured it was some tourists doing the Canyon Bike Tours thing, 'till I looked around and saw it was a kid. As he came closer, I realized he was about the same age as me, possibly a few months younger.

I smiled & gave a kinda wave. You know, "Hi, glad to see a kid," that sorta wave. He waved back & set his bike over by mine, against the one big Juniper that grows on top of the rock. He came over & sat on the other flat place, the one in the shade. Just sat there and looked down at the creek rushing by.

I guess there was some kind of instant understanding. Neither one of us said anything. It's like we didn't need to. We were both kids, both boys, same age, both found our way to this place of a summer's morning. To sit and be in the cool and the... not exactly "quiet." Natural racket. Guess that said a lot more about who we were than, "Duh! Hi, my name is Weenis, and I'm from Milwaukee," or something.

After a couple of minutes, there was this huge commotion and a big huge raven flapped by, being chased and attacked by 2 smaller birds. They were screaming and diving and trying to peck the raven, who must have been 5 times the size of the 2 smaller birds, combined. And he was getting the hell out of there, about as fast as he could!

"Whoa! Check that out!" he said, in a husky kid voice.

I think I said the same thing at the same time. Anyway, he looked over and our eyes met and we both grinned. He was sorta stocky, with this pinky-blond hair, kinda long like mine, but parted in the middle. At that time, I parted mine on the side. Luke is a very pink guy: he has that freckle-and-burn skin, with lots of large freckles and these... well I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Oh! I'm Loren."


"That was COOL!" he said, "Do you live up here?" Excitement dancing in his grey eyes.

"Not up here. Down in town," I said, friendly, looking at his boyish face.

"Me too! We just moved out here from L.A." He said it like he was ashamed. "Well, Orange County, actually," brightening a little.

"Kewl! Anywhere near Anaheim -- Disneyland?"

"Naah. Way South. South-a Irvine. I like Sea World better, anyway. We used to... I had a season pass. Still do, not that it's gonna be much use to me here." He said it cheerfully. Not like he'd miss So. Cal. all that much.

That's cool, cuz we get a lot of Angelinos through town, and they all seem to think that everyplace else is small cuz it was just simply incapable of being as kewl as LA. Sor-ry Du-hude! We like the space. And the quiet. And the nature noise. I like the riparian micro-climate along the creek and the transition zone to the desert, and the little hidden perches that you can find among the towering rocks. Sometimes, you can even find evidence of the ancient local Indian tribes. Little potsherds. Little graffiti -- petroglyphs -- up in some particularly cool perch. Some Indian kid probably did them 500 years ago, so some other kid would find them. Like time travel. Sends a shiver up my back, some times.

Anyway, this place sure beats the 5 at rush hour. I know, I lived there for a year, while my grandfather died. I mean, it's not like it took him 3 months to fall over or anything. But he knew he was terminal & just wanted Mom there for his last few months. He was actually pretty cool about it. He was a Buddhist, and I guess they aren't as freaked out about death as most Americans are. Grandpa told me you don't see a lot of Buddhists at the plastic surgeon's office for face-lifts. He died at home, right there, with a smile on his face, and we all cried. But I mostly cried cuz he made such a kewl exit. I hope I go out that cool.

Till I met Luke, I couldn't talk about stuff like that. My oh-so-high-and-mighty classmates wouldn't understand. Too absorbed in the subtleties of their latest zit. Nice one! You should have it preserved: Time Magazine's pustule of the year.

Anyway, we came here right afterwards, and I'm happy here. And now here comes Luke. And he seems to be a cool guy.

"So what kinda stuff do you like to do?" asked Luke, breaking the silence.

I made a kind of sweeping gesture, at the creek: "Ohh, you know, hike. Climb. Computers. Read 'n stuff." A little shrug. I mean, let's face it: most of what everybody does is about the same stuff, right? Get up, take a piss, brush the teeth. Hair, breakfast, blah, blah, eat, blah, blah, brush the teeth, take a piss, go to bed. Hasn't changed a lot, no matter what people believe. Grandpa used to say something about "Before Enlightenment, cutting wood, carrying water. After Enlightenment, cutting wood, carrying water."

Well, I don't know how enlightened anybody is, but most of it is a bunch of cutting & carrying, anyway.

"Yah? What kinda box you run?"

"Just OSR-2 on a P-2."

"Cool. I've just got this old Cyrix 200 piece of crap. How much RAM you running?"

"One twenty eight. DIMMs."

"Cool. All I got is 96. Had to give my dad his 32 back & stuff the board with these old 4's I had."

"They fast enough?"

"Yeah," he said, shrugging, "fast enough, I guess. I mean I don't see any smoke coming outta the case or anything." We both grinned at that.

"Do you have an ISP, yet?"

"Naah. My dad was gonna just add it to the phone bill."

"US WORST? Fuck! Don't do that! They suck the big one! Tell your dad to call... Look, I'll introduce you to Jeremy & you'll see. You don't want to deal with those pricks at US Worst. They broke Mrs. Mallory's phone line and then tried to sell her a $48-a-month 'Internet line.' Modem wouldn't even connect over it. She called US Worst and they basically said, 'Fuck you, we didn't promise anything.' But Mr. Mallory is this mega-lawyer & he basically said here's your newspaper ad and the work order sez 'Internet Line,' and fuck you make my day. They ended up on wireless to Jeremy's. Man! Just tell your dad to wait a day or 2. I'll have Jer take care of him."

It all came out in a rush, but I have pretty strong feelings about being hostage to those assholes. I tell everybody, every chance I get. I musta cost them $20,000 by now. That's a start! Let's see, I'm 11: maybe I could personally cost them a million dollars, by the time I'm 15. All it would take is a couple of decent business accounts. Besides, Jer is teaching me PERL and does stuff for me, like overlook multiple logons when he's on duty.

Anyway, that's pretty heavy talk for just meeting this kid and I was afraid he'd think I was a butt-face. But he looked like he got it all, and just nodded.

"Okay, I'll tell Dad that story. Mind if he calls you? Cuz he needs a decent connection for his work and he can't afford to fuck around." Cool: so we'd both used the 'F-word.' And in appropriate context, not to impress. I was starting to like Luke already. It was like we shared information, we didn't compete with it. Not like "Oh, YEAH? Well I got more RAM, blah BLAH!"

"So what do you like to do, Luke?"

"You know, same things: hang out. Swim, bikes, mess around."

"Where do you guys live?"

"We're camped out in an apartment, 'till we can find a house to rent."

"Yeah? Where's your apt?"

"Renaissance East."

"Oh, WOW! I'm over at West! Right next door!"

"You guys got a better pool. It's got that island."

"Too bad they don't ever clean it. I think all the leaves are making coal back there, under the little bridge thing."

"Yeah, well, we got the hot tub and it's got, like, a foot of foam on the top and it smells like ass."

"That's probably exactly what it is," I said.

Luke got this brief look of dismay, and then grinned.

Well, we spent most of that summer together, and we were both in 6th last year, just at different schools. He got wait-listed for Charter and it was 7th before we could get him in. He likes it a lot better. Partly, I think, cuz we don't have a locker room, so he doesn't have to shower with the older kids and feel like micro-dick. That's what he says. I don't think he's a micro-dick anyway, but I'm getting ahead of the story.

It was last year that I really started with the heats. Man, sometimes I get horns so bad I'm just deaf and blind. I had to actually force myself to focus in school, for the first time, cuz I would slip off into humma-humma land: going in, going in, uhh, uhh...

"Loren. Loren WITH! Loren, you were day dreaming again!"

Shit! If she only knew! I was slipping into Timmy Johnson's hot little undies for a little... Arrgh! Earth to Loren: this is Dick Control. Uhh... Pfft! We've decided to delay re-entry 'till Hell Freezes. Pfft! Prepare for the hand-over to Goldstone. Pfft!"

"Sorry, Miss Goldstone."

"Just try to pay attention, Loren." After class, she asked me if there was anything wrong. Anything at home. Blah, blah. There's no way she would ever look at bird-boy and see the clawing sex-beast within. Clueless. Along with the rest of the universe. Well, mostly.

It was during winter break. Luke's family had moved into their new house, by then. It's on the other side of where I live, but not much farther that his apt used to be. And about the same distance from Charter.

We had gotten sick of video games. There was snow, but we were done outside. His modem was fucked again. So we were just laying around his rec room, slouched way down on the couches, facing each other. And he was sort of out of sorts, which wasn't like him, and I was so fucking bored and horny. The beast raged within. And I recognized "the look."  Me too! And my heart rate went to about 200 for a second as I felt that little... oozing feeling. RRRR! I can't stand this anymore. I want to cry or scream or fight or... fuck, actually. I want to fuck so bad I... RRRRR! The Beast Rageth!

Well, Luke and I had talked about it enough. I mean, I knew 6 months ago that he wasn't getting the heats yet, but I was and I told him about them and about the fact that it was so bad I'd do it with anybody -- a dead male badger -- if they'd hold still for it. I'd worry about gay-straight, fleas, cloaca-burn, fang marks, vultures -- whatever -- later. Just get me off! Well, he knew me well enough, by now, to know I didn't give a fuck. And he knew how it hurt me that I was the fucking bird-boy and all the girls just shined me on. My take-whatever-you-can-get attitude didn't seem to bother Luke any. Omnivorous. "Omni-hump-erous."

So when I saw the look, or what I suspected was the look, I went over and sat down and gave him a friendly shove with my right elbow. He looked up, sort of unhappy and flushed, and I smirked and shoved him over on the couch and he started to half-heartedly protest, in this sorta sleepy voice.

Yup, definitely the look. Our boy's got the horns, big time. I hopped on top of him, pretending to wrestle. Well, actually wrestling, actually, and got him stretched out to where I just naturally fell on him with our crotches touching. Well... pushing, actually. I saw to that, actually.

He got this surprised look, and sorta shy, but not protesting, and I pushed a little harder, feeling a blast of pleasure shoot up from my dick. And Luke got this desperate yearning look and put his hands on my ass and shoved back, and I said, "Ohh, God that feels so good! Ohh! I can't stop," and I started grinding into him and he was grinding back. And we did that until it really started to feel wonderful and I was all shaky and I looked at his face and saw how cute he had become, all of a sudden, and he got cuter and cuter and I felt myself build and it was way too late and I cried "Ohhh!" Like I'd been stabbed, and shot about a gallon into my jockeys. The top of my head flew off. Then I suddenly couldn't stay awake & collapsed onto Luke, passing into a deep sleep.

I don't think it was long before I woke up and Luke had his arms around me & was slowly, slowly humping up into my crotch, starting to breathe pretty fast. I smiled at him and helped, until he shuddered and jammed his bulging meat into mine and started groaning as he shot and shot.

I rolled off and laid next to him, but I made sure I left my arm over him, so he wouldn't get shy on me and forget we were friends and that we had come with one-another.

Well, that was the start of it. We were both cool with it. At 11, I sure wasn't worried what people thought of my choice of sexual outlets. And Luke knew that and he'd had a great cum and I was his best friend and he knew I was completely loyal to him, so he was cool with it too.

Well, it's not like we drove the price of Vaseline stock off the charts in the next three days. There was a lot more grinding, before we had our first all-nakee cum explosion experience.

But now, at school, when the bigger kids just blow me off, I can look at them and smirk, inwardly, knowing I'm getting laid a fuck of a lot more than they are. And when I look in the mirror, I still see bird-boy, just a little longer of limb and... some other things.

Send mail to: I hope you enjoyed these kids. They'll tell us more of their story if encouraged. But, being kids, they've got other cool stuff they could be doing, instead. So let 'em know. Thanks to Soaringtoad for passing on The Eggman's technical advice to me. And for getting me stuck using those little three-dot thingies. All civil e-mail is read and answered.