ARCH HUNTER

Bus Boy

Welcome to my new story. It's a short one but I hope you'll like it.

It contains explicit sexual scenes between a boy and a man but they're not at a core of this story.

There are other aspects of the story that some faint-hearted readers might find disturbing, so please keep that in mind. I love you all! Feel free to send me an email and let me know what you think - archhunter420@gmail.com

Chapter 1

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Bus Boy looking fucking sexy today. I can't help but stare.

To think I was cursing this meeting at work, a few weeks back. It was fucking boring and going on for hours. Of course, it was organized out of the blue and no one cared if I had plans. When it ended, I realized it could've just as well been an email. A short one. I don't hate my job but they really know how to push my buttons. I felt the urge to get home, grab some beers and spend an hour or two on job posting websites to finally get away from that little shithole.

Then, 40 minutes later than usual, I got to the bus and noticed him for the first time.

I see hot boys every day, no biggie. He wasn't even the hottest one I saw that month.

I like to sit in the middle of the bus, facing the back. He sat right on the back. That way, I could look at him all the way home. Because as it turned out, he is getting off at the same stop as me and always takes the same bus - that's how I came up with his nickname. What's more - we are almost neighbors.

On that first time, being a gentleman, I let him through the bus door first to watch his slim ass as he walked. I was about to learn that he wore sports shorts and a sweatshirt every day and everywhere.

He is tight. Very slim but his legs have muscle. I still don't know what sports he's playing but he's doing them a lot. I sometimes see him three times a day when I walk my dog and he leaves his block with a sports bag and his trademark absent stare.

As I said, he is hot but not the hottest boy I've ever seen, by far. Yet, there is something about him that makes him look careless and uninterested, you know? And by extension - intriguing. Call me a psycho but when I realize we are practically neighbors... I start leaving work late on purpose. That's right. I'm no longer looking for a new job. I'm fine where I am. I'm on a good way to get a promotion with the level of dedication I've been showing. As a side result, I do start seeing him more. Not every day. Sometimes, I don't see him the whole week and my soul weeps. But he always takes the same seat and I do too. I look at him a lot. He looks down at his phone and pays me no attention. Our eyes meet more than once, make no mistake. My heartbeat speeds up and my dick gets hard. But he just looks the other way and then back down to his phone.

You'd think I'd be smart enough to take a hint and leave him alone. You'd be wrong. I'm trying to figure out smart ways to get him to talk to me. He is a challenge. I'm convincing myself he's playing hard to get on purpose - to tease me and make me want to work to win him over. In reality, he seems faintly aware of my existence at best.

Now he's holding his phone the way the teens do now to listen to Tik Toks or play voice messages from their friends - holding it horizontally, the lower side of the device to his ear. I do hope it's a Tik Tok and not moans of some fucking girl he's probably exchanging nudes with. He's totally old enough to be doing that. And if he is, then he does. I really want to think it's not the case but he's sitting with one foot on the seat, almost resting his chin on his knee, adjusting his dick from time to time. He's fucking fondling himself and he doesn't care. It's the middle of the third lockdown here in Poland and the bus is almost empty. He's sitting there, 15 feet away from me and absentmindedly playing with his dick through his shorts. Listening to something making him horny while he's supposed to be looking at me! Or at the very least, at the doggie.

The doggie - Ares. My sweet, sweet, COVID puppy I adopted a few months ago. That's my new plan to get Bus Boy's attention. I nicked him Bus Boy in my mind and it became official when I told some of my readers about him. "How's it going with Bus Boy?" I would hear from them from time to time, or "got any new pictures of Bus Boy?" Yeah, I'm guilty. I've been secretly taking photos of Bus Boy and sending them to people. I couldn't stand being horny for him alone. I had to share him. And share him I did. It was becoming real, at least in my head.

Anyway, it seems like Bus Boy is way too old to be crazy about cute little doggies. I look down at Ares and he looks back. I give him my best disappointed look. You had one job, doggie! Luckily, it turns out I don't need the damn dog.

You must know that my Bus Boy is one cute little sleepyhead. The bus takes about 40 minutes from A to B and sometimes the boy gets sleepy. He tucks his phone into his pocket, crosses his arms, and rests his blond mop against the window. It's one of the moments I can stare at him shamelessly without the risk of getting caught. Then he shakes off a minute or two before our stop and proceeds to get off the bus to - once more - let me watch him as he walks home to mommy and daddy. As I said, I have no fucking clue what sports he does but the evidence suggests horseback riding. I mean, I'm just kidding, he's not fucking horseback riding but as he walks, he sways from left to right like a cowboy that's spent his whole day in the saddle. It's obvious that he's grown a lot during the last year and he's not feeling very comfortable in his newly developed teen body. As you might've figured out by now, I'm addicted to imperfections and it turns me on endlessly. His awkward little frame begs to be taken care of. But I'm not all about that, no! I want us to be friends. Yeah, a guy in his mid-twenties and a young teen. His parents would surely approve. The case is, I'm not looking forward to meeting them, not just yet. I mean, teen boys should be allowed to make their own friends, right?

So today his training had to be pretty fucking rough because his head is swaying from left to right all the way and he's cutely shaking it off and jerking his head up as his consciousness is leaving and coming back to him. The doggie on my lap is nodding off, too, and I'm switching my attention from one puppy to another, trying to figure out which one is more adorable.

We're closing in on our stop and Bus Boy's lights are out. This is my chance, I realize with panic. Damn, I'm really about to do it. He's completely out of his senses and there's no way he'll wake up by himself. Someone's gotta be the better man and help out the poor boy, or else!

We're really close now and I don't know what I'm doing. To make matters worse, some guy enters the bus and sits next to my boy. Way to ruin our intimate moment, creep.

The bus bumps over a hole in the road and the boy jumps as everyone else inside does. Fuck Polish roads. I'm gonna lose my chance to talk to Bus Boy just because the town council can't keep the fucking roads in a decent shape. By some miracle, Bus Boy doesn't wake up. The game must've been really rough.

Time to get up. The advantage of small dog breeds - they easily fit in your hand and you can carry them with your other hand free. And I need that other hand, alright.

I slowly approach where Bus Boy is sitting and I feel my courage leaving me. The guy sitting next to the boy gives me a look. Probably because of the dog, I tell myself. Anyway, I don't fucking need any audience. It is going to be awkward enough without it.

I'm there. I press the stop button and look at the boy. He's looking fucking sexy today. His blond mop, his slim frame, his cheapish sports outfit. His head swaying from left to right. Gotta do it now. The bus has almost stopped. I reach with my hand and nudge the boy. The man gives me a weird look. Fuck. This. Fucking. Guy!

Bus Boy jumps when I poke. He looks around in confusion, slowly coming back to reality. Then he looks up at me.

"Your stop," I say. It takes him a while to register what I just said to him and only when the door opens and I step off the bus, the puppy trustfully resting on my forearm, he snatches his backpack and jumps from his seat. I'm already outside and watch him hastily exit the bus, the double doors nearly cutting him in half. He makes it last minute.

I put the doggie on the ground and look at the boy intently. He's adorably spooked.

"Thanks," he says.

The way he says it stops me in my tracks. Thanks is a short word but long enough to reveal his accent. Eastern accent. It's Russian or Ukrainian but judging by how many Ukrainians live in my city, I bet he's Ukrainian, too.

Now to the bad news - Bus Boy rushes past me as I'm standing there, lost in thought. He just walks away and I'm staring at him like a lunatic instead of initiating a small talk just as I intended to. Then he crosses the street and is gone.

I look down at the doggie. He's taking a piss and giving me a perplexed look. Ares doesn't think much of me right now, that's for certain. I'm not feeling the best about myself either but I'm disappointed about the lack of support from the little guy.

A few days pass. I tell my readers about the developments and they encourage me to make a push for it. I reply that he doesn't seem interested and why the hell would he need this kind of shit in his life anyway. They tell me something about all those boys and girls falling in love with adults in the movies. I say there's a reason why it's only in the movies.

Then, a miracle happens.

Bus Boy starts noticing me on our rides home. I nod at him every time he enters the bus. He is almost always late and I love watching him running from around the corner to make it just before the bus door closes. I swear it's gonna cut him in two one day. I can't make up my mind which half I'd be taking back home. Okay, I'm just kidding, I'm not that messed up. Anyway, every time he enters the bus, I nod at him and he nods back. Another day, I see him near my house when I walk Ares and he says, "Hey." I'm elated.

I don't say shit about all that to my readers. This is getting real. I mean - nothing is getting real. He's just polite enough to acknowledge his fucking neighbor. In my head, though, we're getting married next summer.

Two weeks later it's Friday and a breakthrough happens. I'm not even remotely interested in shitting you, so either keep up with me or go away now because it's gonna get batshit crazy and I'm not using this ancient phrase lightly.

So yeah, it's Friday. I'm visiting my friends. We're drinking beer, smoking weed, and watching freaky stuff on YouTube. That's my life; that's my leisure of choice; judge me all you want, I couldn't care less. Sorry if I sound frustrated - it's because I am. It's almost midnight when I'm back in my neighborhood. I'm walking slowly, enjoying the fresh night air and feeling pleasantly weightless.

Then I hear it.

"Psst! Hey!"

It comes from the bushes. My sight is hazy as it is and conveniently, the nearby street lamps are dead and I can't see shit. I know there's a bench there and sometimes mothers sit on it while their kids play around or just sleep in the strollers. I stop in my tracks and try to calibrate my sight but it's not working. Dark shapes are dancing funnily in front of my eyes.

"Come!" the voice says again and I'm almost sure I recognize this faint eastern accent. This time, I'm sure I'm not hallucinating. I make a few steps towards the source of the sound and only when I'm practically right in front of the bench, my eyes get used to the darkness. There he is, sitting, all sexy and casual. Bus Boy.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," he says. He's looking up at me and I take a hint to sit down.

"Not hanging out with your friends?" I ask, checking the first item from the list of things not to say to a teenage boy.

"No, I'm just chilling," he replies. God bless his accent. "And you?"

"Been visiting friends, I was about to go back home."

"We ride the same bus," he notices. His voice is still high-pitched but raspy. His eyes, maybe not very sharp, but curious and thinking. God bless everything about him.

"Yeah. I take it to go home from work."

He makes a short pause. "You've been looking at me."

"Yes," I reply with fake confidence. "I've been meaning to talk to you, but you always seem absent."

"Yeah, I'm told I look like that sometimes," he says, and for the first time, he smiles. Bless that boy!

"Yeah, you do," I smile back, grateful to see him not freaked out. "You have a great smile, by the way."

For some reason, he finds it hilarious. He throws his head back and laughs heartily. Just then, I notice he's got a bruise on the left side of his face. Looks fresh. I'm still high, though, and his laughter is contagious. We spend the next thirty seconds laughing for no reason.

I'm the first to contain myself although I have this tingling feeling in my cheeks from the high. "What sports are you doing?"

"Tennis, umm... soccer, swimming," he says.

"I thought so. I like tennis," I say.

His eyes light up. "Really? Want to play with me?"

In more way than one, I do. I laugh. "I bet you have lots of friends your age you'd rather play with." As I say it, I see his face morphing from childish excitement to... guilt, I guess. "I mean," I continue, "sure I'd like to, I just meant you're probably way better than me."

I think my diversion worked because now I can read some pride and cheekiness radiating from his eyes. "You're gonna have to wait and see," he says.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Artem."

"Cool, I'm Rob. So you're from Ukraine, right?"

"Yeah."

We shake hands. Very inappropriate, considering it's the quarantine. Needless to say, I don't care. If I get the virus and die, it will still be worth it.

"I envy you," I say.

"Why?"

"My parents would never let me stay outside at this hour when I was... 13? 14?"

He chuckles, "Keep guessing," and smirks. My little ruse didn't work.

"Anyway, your parents seem to be very... liberal"

"Liberal?" he laughs. "They're not liberal at all. They're very strict. Especially dad."

"I don't want to know your definition of strictness if he lets you stay outside after midnight," I say. I sure hope his dad's strictness doesn't have anything to do with the gash on his face. "Anyway, I have to go now, I'm tired. See you around."

"Yeah, see you... Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"Give me your number."

"Why?"

"Remember? Tennis."

"Oh right. Sure, here it is. Text me or call me anytime."

"Damn dude, you're high," he laughs at me as we exchange numbers.

I'm heading home and I'm as happy as can be. You're probably wondering why I let him go so soon. Well, this exchange has been stressing me out and I'm relieved that it ended before I did or said something stupid. Bus Boy gave me his number. I couldn't hope to end it on a better note today.

***

Thanks for reaching! Chapter 2 is on the way. And as always, feel free to send me your thoughts, I always appreciate them - archhunter420@gmail.com.