Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2017 04:17:25 -0400
From: Neo <hello_neo@protonmail.com>
Subject: "Will you be my boyfriend?" Chapter 4

Author's note:

Thanks for donating to keep Nifty running. And thank you to everyone who
has corresponded with me by email. Please get in touch if you have
questions or comments of any kind. I reply to every message.

Neo.

hello_neo@protonmail.com

***

EPISODE FOUR

"Come over. I need help."

Lewis looked at the message on his phone. It was typical of Kieran's
flirtatious, commanding tone. At least, that was how he read it at first.
It wasn't until he brought his fingers to the screen to reply that he
hesitated. The black-on-white lettering on the screen was neat and regular,
offering no clue to the sentiment behind the words.

"What kind of help?" he texted back quickly. He almost added a winking
face, but thought better of it. However unlikely it seemed, he couldn't
shake the thought that Kieran might really be in trouble.

Seconds passed without a reply. Now Lewis was worried.

"I have to go out," he called to his mum as he tied his shoes.

"Lewis!" she complained. "I made you dinner. Where are you going?"

"Um... to see Alex," he lied. "It's important." Alex was a friend from school
he knew his mother had a soft spot for.

Barbara smiled resignedly. "Okay," she consented. "Don't be too late."

"I'll make it up to you, mum," Lewis promised, already halfway out of the
door. "I'll do double chores."

He pedalled anxiously, his mind racing in circles almost as fast as the
wheels of the bike. Kieran was probably just horny, and teasing him with
texts. Maybe he would be waiting naked. Lewis could almost picture it. The
thought sparked an excited adrenaline rush. But then there was the nagging,
unquiet voice that said that something could be wrong. That was an
adrenaline rush of a different kind. The twin sensations of apprehension
and anticipation clashed uncomfortably in Lewis' stomach.

An ill-cleaned car was roughly parked outside Kieran's house when Lewis
arrived. Someone else was at home. His consternation increased.

Instinctively, Lewis chose not to knock. He pushed open the door gingerly,
peering into the hallway.

"I told you Romy, I don't want to anymore." The voice was Kieran's. It
sounded determined, though Lewis thought he could detect a slight nervous
shake.

He tiptoed forward so that he could see into the living room. Kieran was
sitting, quietly naked, on the edge of the low coffee-table. The sun-dulled
once-black laminate surface looked hard and uncomfortable. Ordinarily
Lewis' eyes would have been transfixed by the young boy's form, but for now
something else had his attention. A figure stood beside the table. Its back
was turned, but Lewis could make out a mop of mid-length hair and the glint
of a silver ear stud.

Caught by a surge of rage he didn't understand, Lewis stepped forward
without thinking. Kieran saw the movement in the doorway, his brown eyes
opening wide with alarm as he recognised Lewis.

The figure by the table turned, instinctively following the naked little
boy's startled gaze.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked the uninvited fourteen-year-old.

Rough stubble the colour of dirty straw gave Romy's face a rugged look,
though he couldn't have been much more than seventeen or eighteen. His
features looked as if they were permanently set in an angry leer.

Lewis shot a desperate, apologetic look at Kieran. He had lost the element
of surprise--not that he had much idea what he would have done with it.

Romy stepped forward, blocking the line of sight between the lovestruck
pair. He began to advance toward Lewis.

"Oh, you're here for a piece of my sweet little brother?" he said, with
mock courtesy. "Well you're shit out of luck, mate."

"Leave him alone!" cried Kieran.

"You know this kid, squirt?" inquired Romy, looking back over his shoulder
at his brother.

"He's my boyfriend," the nine-year-old replied. His shirtless chest lifted
slightly with pride as he said it.

"Is that so?" Romy raised his brow with a smirk. "I guess you have a type."
He had backed the terrified Lewis against the wall as he talked, and now he
used his left elbow to pin the fourteen-year-old's chest.

The gruff older boy's face was only inches from his prisoner. Lewis dropped
his gaze awkwardly. As his eyes travelled down in the dim light, he saw
that Romy's waistband was undone. The belt buckle hung loosely, alongside a
limp but sizeable circumcised cock that was beset by matted hair.

Romy was not unaware of the fourteen-year-old's roving eyes. With his free
hand he suddenly grasped Lewis' crotch, daring him to respond.

Lewis looked up, startled, as the aggressive face drew in even closer to
his own. Despite himself, he felt the unmistakable twitch of his insatiable
teenage dick starting to grow.

"Hey squirt, I think your boyfriend likes me," Romy grinned.

"Get off him," Kieran yelled, darting at his older brother like a
cannonball. He tackled the threatening figure fiercely, trying to drag him
away.

Romy was unconcerned by the little naked body tugging at his ankles. He
stepped back coolly. Lewis rubbed at his windpipe as the pressure was
lifted from it.

"Leave," ordered Romy.

Lewis didn't move. He still hadn't spoken a word.

"Or stay," Romy conceded. "Doesn't bother me." He turned his attention back
to his little brother, who was on the floor by his feet. "Get up, squirt."

Kieran rose to his feet obediently. The mark his warm body had left on the
cold table-top was still visible. He shot a supplicating glance over his
shoulder at Lewis as he walked back over to retake his seat. Romy followed
unhurriedly.

"Now, where were we?" Romy asked, running a finger roughly over his younger
sibling's bare shoulder.

Lewis' fist curled as he contemplated the older teen. He was still
possessed of enough sense, though, to realise that physical aggression
might just make the situation worse. The last thing he wanted was for
Kieran to get hurt.

"Wait," he said.

Romy turned with a disdainful smile. "Still there? I told you I'm not
sharing," he said. "Maybe if you're good I'll let you lick my jizz off his
chest."

"Maybe we can make a deal," Lewis went on desperately. "I can help you
out." He tried to sound seductive, hating himself as he realised his plan
was making him a little aroused.

"Oh yeah?" said Romy, pausing briefly.

Lewis saw his opportunity. "Yeah. I can do all kinds of things," he lied,
trying to emulate the provocative twinkle he had so often seen in Kieran's
eyes.

"Nope. Sorry." Romy returned his attention to the nine-year-old. "Nice try,
but the little squirt wins."

So much for that. Lewis thought fast. He needed a new plan. "Shame," he
said, buying time, his heart pounding. "I, uh..." He tailed off.

Romy heard something in Lewis' voice that made him turn his head one last
time. His arrogant composure slipped as he saw that the fourteen-year-old
was lifting his phone camera.

"Smile," said Lewis, feeling the painful irony in the word as he pointed
the lens right at Romy's face.

"Oh SHIT!" yelled Romy furiously. "Give that to me," he demanded, trying to
keep control of the situation.

"Too late," replied Lewis matter-of-factly, tapping the screen a couple of
times. He tried to sound more assured than he was. "It's already saved. And
backed up. Online."

"Delete it." Romy was rapidly sensing defeat.

"Don't worry," Lewis assured him. "Nobody will ever see it." A pause.
"Unless you come back here."

Romy lifted his arm as if to snatch the phone, but then lowered it again.
He clutched his fingers to a fist. Several times he made as if to open his
mouth, only to close it, stuck for words. He turned speechlessly to Kieran,
then to Lewis, then back to Kieran again. He knew when he was defeated.

He walked slowly, glowering, to the hallway. In front of Lewis he stopped
for a moment, to fasten his fly with a final enraged glare. Then he was
gone, shutting the door with a thud that rattled the floor and made Lewis
suddenly aware of his nervously shaking limbs. The sound of an angry car
engine split the air, fading as it drove away at speed.

Kieran's arms flung themselves around Lewis, making him jump as he was
knocked back slightly. The nine-year-old felt reassuringly real. Lewis'
heart was still racing as he held the little boy tightly to him.

Slowly, Lewis' knees gave way beneath him. He was still standing against
the wall where Romy had pinned him, and now his back slid down it. He came
to rest on the carpet, exhausted. Kieran sat down next to him, leaning his
head against Lewis' shoulder.

"I never want to see that video," said Kieran, quietly.

"There isn't one."

Kieran looked up at him questioningly.

"I lied to him," confessed Lewis. "He thinks I have it. That's all that
matters."

There was a pause.

"You were amazing," said Kieran.

They sat in silence for a while.

"You saw me naked," Kieran realised, with an almost-giggle. It was true: in
all their previous encounters, Kieran had been clothed, at least partly.

Lewis' breathing was returning to its normal pace, now. His thoughts began
to come together into a painful realisation.

"Kieran..." he began slowly.

"Yes?" said the nine-year-old, his hand holding Lewis' arm as he clutched
himself to the safety of his boyfriend and protector.

"I don't... I don't think I can be your boyfriend."

Kieran sat up mutely, his eyes expressing more than words could have done.

"It's not... I don't... I can't..." Lewis couldn't form his next sentence.

"Why?" asked Kieran, not understanding. "Are you angry? About what I used
to do with Romy? I don't want to do it anymore. I told him."

"No!" Lewis quickly reassured him. "That's not it."

"Then why?" The young boy waited, then added, "You saved me."

"Saved you from what? From an older boy that wanted to... to..." Lewis broke
off, a tightness in his chest constricting his speech. He took a deep
breath, and began again. "What's the difference between me and him, between
me and Romy?"

Kieran's eyes filled with tears as he fiercely held onto Lewis' arm again.
He knew perfectly and intensely what the difference was; he just couldn't
have put it into words. His anguish went unspoken, falling wetly as
teardrops onto Lewis' shoulder instead. "I... I..." Kieran tried to say, as
sobs overcame him.

"You should have someone your own age," Lewis said. He was trying to
persuade Kieran, but he was also trying to persuade himself. "You deserve
that."

"But I want you!"

"I'm sorry," said Lewis. "I can't." He felt he had no choice, even if he
couldn't fully have explained why.

Carefully, Lewis stood up, extricating himself from Kieran's heartbroken
hand. The wounded boy didn't look up from the floor where he sat.

"Romy won't come back," Lewis said, matter-of-factly, as he tried to
suppress his still wheeling emotions. "I'm so sorry," he finished feebly,
as he made his way to the door.

***

"You never told me where you were that night when I covered for you," said
Alex.

"You're never gonna let me forget that, are you?" asked Lewis. "I said I
owe you one, okay?"

"I guess. It's just... wherever you went, I'm not sure you ever came back,
buddy," Alex replied.

It was true. Lewis' thoughts were miles away from the school steps he and
Alex were climbing. He had been distant for days.

Since his tearful split with Kieran, the pair had had exchanged only a few
short text messages.

"I miss you," Kieran had written. "Please be my boyfriend again?"

"I can't. Are you safe?"

"From Romy? I think so."

"Earth to Lewis," joked Alex. "Dude, focus. I'm trying to introduce you to
someone. This is Denver."

Lewis was back from his reverie the instant his eyes alighted on Denver's
face. The new arrival was tallish, black-haired, with a clean-cut bad-boy
look that kicked Lewis' teen hormones into high gear.

"He's new," Alex went on. "He's in our music class."

"Oh--that's now, right?" Lewis said. "Let's walk and talk," he smiled at
the new boy.

The boys shared more than one class that day, and Lewis and Denver hit it
off at a dangerous pace. Denver seemed to know exactly what to say and do
at every moment to deepen Lewis' budding crush on him. It wasn't that Lewis
was getting over Kieran--quite the opposite--but Denver was something
entirely different. Kieran had been astonishing and unforeseen. Denver, on
the other hand, was exactly the boy Lewis had fantasised about for years.
Lewis couldn't believe that the handsome new student actually liked him.
Denver was the perfect distraction.

The trio regrouped after school was over.

"Wanna hang out? I know a spot," Denver said.

Of course he knew a spot. Lewis tried to keep his cool, though his
heartrate was speeding. He had always played the good kid, and Denver's air
of mischievous disreputability was turning him on.

Alex and Lewis had seen enough of Denver that neither was surprised by the
tell-tale chink of glass when he sat on the ground and opened his backpack.

"We can share," said Denver, cracking open a beer and offering it to his
two new friends.

It wasn't a question. Lewis didn't think he would have said no anyway.
Unconsciously, he was hungry for distraction: anything and everything to
engage his adolescent senses and cover his emotions. Consciously, he was
hungry for Denver. He tried to look nonchalant as he took a sip and passed
the bottle along. Surprisingly, he found he actually liked the taste. In a
way, it reminded him of the taste of ass, he realised. And pee. He fought
to suppress a giggle.

Alex only stayed until the first bottle was empty. "I should get going," he
said, climbing to his feet. "You boys have a nice time," he added, with the
faintest raise of an eyebrow.

"Oh, we will," Denver assured him.

Lewis listened nervously to their exchange. Was his crush on Denver that
obvious? He was afraid of what might happen next, but even more afraid of
leaving.

"Here," Denver said, opening the second bottle and handing it to him.
"Relax," he added, with a smile.

"Thanks." Lewis took another sip and passed the bottle back. The alcohol
was calming him, halting the racing thoughts he was trying to ignore. He
could get used to this.

Denver's next move had Lewis' cock suddenly awakening in his jeans. The
dark-haired teen raised the brown glass bottle for a sip, fixing Lewis'
eyes to make sure he was watching. As he lowered it from his lips, he
carefully licked the smooth thick rim, allowing a liberal trail of his teen
spit to land on the glass. Then, without breaking eye contact, he
wordlessly handed the bottle back to Lewis.

If Lewis had been crushing on Denver before, now he was just horny for him.
He felt his chest thump as he lifted his arm to drink.

The bottle was slick and wet against his mouth. Body-heat from Denver's
bag, or from his lips, had permeated the glass. He took the sip. Maybe it
was the alcohol, or maybe it was the thirsty bad-boy horniness that had
gripped him, but he reciprocated Denver's gesture, tracing the rim of the
bottle slowly with his tongue. In truth, he couldn't taste anything but the
beer. It was the sight and feel that sent a rush coursing through his
horned-up adolescent body.

The atmosphere between the two teen boys was growing palpably. Lewis looked
at his watch nervously. "I'm going to get in so much trouble," he said. He
was learning what being drunk felt like, and he was certain his mum would
be able to tell.

"Yeah you are, you bad boy," Denver replied, beginning to unbutton his fly.

When he looked back later, Lewis wasn't able to say exactly how Denver's
five inches of fourteen-year-old cock ended up in his mouth.

"Mmmph," he moaned, gently inebriated, as he hungrily swallowed the teen
meat.

"Ohh, you're so hot," Denver encouraged him, one hand behind him to support
himself, the other hand on the back of Lewis' neck.

Lewis doubled his efforts. He couldn't remember being called hot before. He
wanted to repay the favour. He lifted his head slightly, letting saliva
drool from his mouth onto the Denver's slender dick. Immediately he felt
the pressure of Denver's grip on his neck, pulling him back toward the
scent of teen crotch sweat. The broad elastic waistband of Denver's
underwear was pulled down just below the base of his cock, and a patch of
his dark hair was visible. Lewis gulped in a lungful of air as his face was
forced back down, breathing in the boy's animal smell.

The pressure lifted from Lewis' neck momentarily. He looked up, mouth still
full of dick. Denver was reaching for another sip of beer. Was he bored?
Lewis pressed his lips tighter around the spit-slicked cock, sucking
slightly as he moved his head faster. With satisfaction he felt a shiver
travel through the other boy's body. He focused all his attention on
pleasuring his crush.

"Oh... oh... yeah... suck me..." Denver moaned, his beer still clutched in his
hand.

Lewis felt his eyes water slightly as he swallowed Denver's teenage
hardness even deeper, fighting the reflex to pull back as the urgent taste
of cock pierced the back of his throat.

Denver saw the effect his verbal encouragement was having on his new
acquaintance. "Yeah... you're such a bad boy" he murmured. He knew how to get
what he wanted.

Inside his jeans Lewis' cock strained at the words. He could almost have
cum right there. He supported himself with his elbow as he shifted his body
position so he could move his head faster.

"Nnnh... I'm gonna cum..." let out Denver at last. As his muscles tensed, he
thrust his crotch even further into Lewis' sweating face.

Lewis' neck and arms ached. He wasn't sure how much longer he could support
himself. He forced past the pain as he worked desperately to bring Denver
to his climax. His own package was throbbing fiercely in anticipation.

Denver let out a low grunt as he began to shoot his load, his taut
midsection jolting even further upwards before relaxing the few inches back
to the ground.

The spurts came fast, one after the other, so that the cum seemed to flow
in a single stream that lasted only a few seconds.

Like any fourteen-year-old boy, Lewis knew the curious taste of his own
ejaculate. This was his first drop of someone else's, though. Denver's
quick, pulsing, unchecked flow was teasingly similar, yet undeniably
unique. It felt thicker, with more flavour, and more of that sharp salt-
bleach tang, too. The feeling of having another person unload tremblingly
right into his mouth felt deeply, thrillingly personal. Lewis swallowed the
jets of hot teen spunk with surprising ease, savouring the tingling warmth
squirting down the back of his tongue. The light, insistent, stroking
pressure in his mouth was a new sensation that Lewis already knew he wanted
more of.

He rolled to the side and sat back next to Denver, exhausted but proud. A
bead of sweat rolled down his neck.

"Thanks, buddy," said Denver with a contented grin. "We gotta do this
again."

The panting body next to him was too out of breath to reply.

***

NEXT TIME ON WILL YOU BE MY BOYFRIEND:

Denver knows what he wants, and how to get it. But does Lewis?

hello_neo@protonmail.com