Date: Sun, 22 Jan 2023 04:54:29 +0000 From: Underjug Subject: Kent and the Brotherhood - Ch 19 Kent and the Brotherhood - Chapter 19 by Underjug & TheRealCOG M/b, con, oral, anal ********** IF YOU ENJOY THIS STORY, SUPPORT NIFTY! HELP THE SITE TO REACH THEIR GOAL THIS MONTH! Support Nifty in any way you can so we don't lose this wonderful, free archive. Visit: http://donate.nifty.org/ Thanks to all who email with nice things to say. We also post our stories at the AlltheFallen and 3DBoys sites. ********** Snow had turned to rain outside of Kent MacTiernan's apartment. Once more, the man's generosity had granted him a home full of boys. Mrs. Welsh and Ms. Strauss were grateful to be able to attend some New Year's parties without having to get a sitter. Scott's father was still out of town and Santi's mother had a date. Russell had slipped out of his family residence as well, though it didn't seem his parents knew or cared. Hudson had returned to the other side of the country, which was sad, but the rest of the Brotherhood was all in attendance for the December 31st gathering. Because their clothes were soaked, the boys had all donned the customized jerseys and were hanging out and having fun. Kent sat on the couch with Clint in his lap, a look of bliss on his face. "This is the best, huh?" the middle Welsh brother said and bit into his slice of pizza. "The absolute best," the Irish-American jock agreed. Curled up on the other couch, Ryder adjusted his party hat and, thanks to his boyfriend's influence, ate a slice of pizza without taking the green peppers off. Brandon had just finished arm-wrestling Scott and plunked himself down beside Ryder. "So, Brandon," the gradeschool blond wrestler said, "did you make any New Year's Resolutions?" "I'm gonna learn guitar," the middleschool pitcher replied without missing a beat. "What? You being a fooler?" "Nope, I'm gonna learn songs so I can serenade you." "That's... wow..." "...heartthrob stuff, I know. I never told'ja, but my mom once enrolled me in lessons, so I did try to play for maybe a year, then I just quit. But now..." And here Brandon held Ryder tight and stole a bite of the pizza slice. "Now I got a reason to play." Santiago Ortiz had watched the arm-wrestling with a mixture of awe and despair. Scott was such a wonderful boy in so many ways, but his partner was such a GUY in so many others. Try as he might, the effeminate 11-year-old couldn't seem to sand off those rough edges. As Scott went to get a soda, Santi turned to Russell, who was looking pensive. "You miss your beloved?" Russell shrugged and took a sip of his Mountain Dew. "Yeah... It's usually ok, being away from each other. But right after Hudson has to leave is the hardest. It's as if there's a part of me that's not there anymore." Santi took his friend's hand. "You are a romantic, like me. Love is a wonderful thing, but it can hurt too." The Mormon boy gave him a little smile. "Yeah, but the good parts are so worth it." "S¡," the Latino boy agreed. Scott St. James grabbed a slice from the box and mussed Clint's hair. "How's my lil bro doin'?" "Goom," the fifth grader answered with a mouthful of 'za. "Hey, thanks for that awesome beej the other day, and 'course, thanks, coach, for the butt- poundin' of th' century." The blond quarterback playfully punched the shoulder of the coolest jock in the world. "The pleasure was all mine," Kent chuckled. "So, any of ya made New Year's Revolutions?" "Resolutions, fidget. I think I've got everything I ever wanted." "What 'bout YOU, kiddo?" Clint Welsh was about to launch into a long story about how his mom said resolutions were a waste of time, but Scott probably didn't want to hear about that, so instead he leaned up and said, "I hope the school starts paying my boyfriend better, 'cause he deserves it." "Shyeah, but teachers make a ton, don't they?" Both Clint and Kent chuckled at that comment, until it became painfully obvious Scott was serious. "Afraid not, fidget. Unfortunately, teachers are often woefully underpaid." "Ya-no, that can't be right," Scott argued. "You guys are helpin' to, y'know, mold our minds an' stuff, so ya should be rakin' it in." "You'd think that would be the case," Kent said patiently, "but I do know some teachers at the school who're living paycheck to paycheck, and since I don't have any dependents I'm doing a bit better, but not by much." "Whoa, that's... but'cha buy us stuff, like for just each dude an' also for the Brotherhood." "And I'm happy to do it. Don't you worry about me, Scott, I'll be ok." Kent smiled reassuringly to ease the look of concern on the QB's face. The man wondered how many people actually knew how big of a heart the boy had. Someone like Scott with looks, wealth and popularity could easily become insufferable. But his nature was to be compassionate. "The only thing that matters," the gym teacher said with feeling, "is that you guys are all taken care of." Clint gave him a kiss. "My boyfriend always looks after us." Scott was still frowning, but Santi dragged him away for a shoulder massage and that was the end of the conversation. Kent was happy to see the two middleschoolers getting closer day by day. As a couple they couldn't be any more different. Nevertheless, the gay mentor was sure they could make it work. Kent asked, "And are you boys ever going to divulge what naughty surprise you have in store for me? Even if I didn't know you were up to something, I would still know you were up to something by the looks on your faces." Brandon Welsh finished his slice of 'za and brushed the crumbs onto his plate. "Us guys were just sayin', it's too bad we're too young to drink." A smile played on Ryder's lips. "Yeah, like, we can't have any champagne or anything." Brandon went on, "You musta gone to a few parties in college, hey, Big?" "Well," Kent replied, "I did, but you know I can't give you boys alcohol." "Aw, naw, we know that," Brandon said. "But at those parties, they had things like chugging contests, right?" "A few of them did, yes." "Well, we figgered this is a party, an' we can't have booze, but we could still have a chugging contest." Brandon bit back his smirk as he watched Kent give him a half-suspicious look. "You mean, with soda?" A few giggles echoed around the room. "Runt, you wanna do the honors?" Clint peered up and explained, "No, a chugging contest to see who can guzzle your spurt!" Kent looked around with a somewhat baffled smile. "You guys pretty much do that all the time already." "Nah, but this is way differenter," Ryder explained. "'Cause it's, like, a competition, you know? We made two teams and we gotta see who can chug all the jizz without missing any." "But we gotta give Clint a handicap," Brandon put in, "'cause he's like a pro at it and he practices all the time." Kent chuckled softly. "You guys aren't serious, are you?" Clint licked his lips. "'Kay, so, we all talked about the rules. The teams are the bigger guys who're the lightweights and the smaller guys who're the flyweights. The lightweights are, um, Brandon, Scott and Russell. And the flyweights are me, Ryder and Santi." "Wait, wait, you really ARE serious?" Kent asked, still with a look of complete surprise. Despite what sounded like a protest, Clint felt his adult boyfriend's dick throb underneath his bum. "Yeah," Clint smiled, "it'll be like your virtirnity parties!" "Fraternity, dweeb," Brandon corrected. Clint continued with the rules of the game. "There's also a pace boy." The room snickered and the youngster couldn't help but join in. "Pace boy?" Kent asked uncertainly. "Well, you know like in car racing you have a pace car? Well, we say pace boy 'cause he makes it more fair by getting your gusher. 'Cause almost always your next three kablooeys are the same." "The triple gush," Ryder said with a smile. "The contestants got the same chance to swallow your loads down. It's like a chugging contest 'cause you have to drink all the spurt. The one who guzzles the most gets to decide who has sex with who for the night." "It'll be solid state, Big!" Scott exclaimed. "For you 'cause, well, obvious. But for us 'cause it'll be like we got our own chugging contest!" Clint finished up, "Us flyweights get to go first, and Russell from the lightweights gets to be the pace boy!" Kent was nonplussed. He stared around at the boys, wondering if this was some sort of sexy dream. All of the Brothers were giving him naughty smiles, even Santi. Russell was blushing to the roots of his hair, but he looked to be totally on board. "You guys really are the sweetest," Kent said, his smile radiating genuine affection. "It sounds hot, and if you want to try it out, I'm game." Clint whooped with delight. After a sloppy kiss together, Kent let his preteen lover escape his lap. The man slipped out of his clothes and sat back down on the couch. Russell stepped over to him, biting his lower lip. There was a time when Russell was so shy he only wanted to be alone with his gym teacher in the bedroom, but here the sweet Mormon boy was going to his knees out in the open in the middle of the den. "Rus-SEL! Rus-SEL! Rus-SEL!" Brandon chanted, and Scott and Ryder quickly joined in. Russell Young, despite his burning cheeks, was honored to have been chosen as the very first pace boy. The chugging contest had started out as a kind of joke between Brandon and Scott when the two had been complaining about not being able to drink to ring in the New Year. But the idea itself had made every Brother hard just thinking about it, and soon it had snowballed into an actual game with rules and lingo. Under the excited cheers in the den, Russell opened his mouth and took in Big's now rock-solid erection. Tenderly he bobbed up and down, wanting to give the man pleasure for bringing all these wonderful boys together. "Oooooooh, string bean," Kent sighed as he played with the Mormon tween's blond hair. "Rus-SEL! Rus-SEL! Rus-SEL!" The familiar tensing of the shaft signaled to Russell the imminent gusher. No one - not even the experienced Ryder or the orally fixated Clint - could swallow it all. The gusher was and would probably always be messy. "NNnnnnnnnNNNNNNNHHHHH!" Kent choked through his grunts. A cheer rang out as Russell valiantly swallowed as much as he could, but a waterfall of cream cascaded off his chin. Russell licked up the mess, smiling sweetly. "Finger-lickin good," he said and all the Brothers cracked up. The well-mannered boy went over to the other couch, his erection poking out the front of his jersey. Brandon gave him a one-armed hug and then pulled him in for a messy kiss. Russell was without his boyfriend for the festivities, but he was not without love. Ryder took his place on the floor between Kent's knees. He had his usual mischievous smirk on his beautiful face and Kent couldn't resist reaching out to rub the boy's short-buzzed hair. "I 'member doing this when you were asleep that first time," his Little said with a gleam in his eye. "So much more fun when you're awake." With that, the slender gradeschooler opened wide and took his Big's thick erection into his mouth and down his throat. "Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" the Brothers chanted in gradual unison. "Hey, coach," said Scott, "only the pace boy can be touched or else it might affect how much ya shoot. Oh, no humping neither. All ya gotta do is sit back and enjoy bein' the keg." Both he and Brandon chuckled and punched it in. Ryder glanced upward. Kent was shaking his head and grinning super wide before his face then melted with pleasure from the second blowjob of the night. It was hotter than hot for Ryder to suck out the remaining jizz from the gusher before it thinned out to precome again. Knowing his Big loved to have his cock deep throated, the Little dove face down into the crotch. The patch of reddish pubes no longer tickled the boy's nose, so he could concentrate on slithering his tongue while suctioning in his cheeks. Another cheer filled the room as Kent growled and Ryder gulped. Most of the boys called out "B+". "Uhhhhh, B+?" Kent asked in a post-climax daze. "Right right right, I forgot to tell you our report card!" Clint exclaimed while smacking his head. "The Brothers have to vote fair, but we all call out how good a blowjob was done on you. From A+ to D. So A+ the boy swallowed the whole load with only a couple gulps. A with some gulps. A- with a buncha gulps. Then B+ is when you start spilling spurt. B a bit more spill. B- even more spill. C+ is a buncha spill. C lots of spill. C- almost all of it spill. And D is like you couldn't swallow any. Most of us say Ryder got a B+!" Kent was utterly bemused and completely horned up at the idea of how much thought the Brothers had put into this game. There was something so endearing and yet impossibly erotic about the idea of these boys sitting around having a serious conversation about a chugging contest that revolved around sucking him off. "Well, it might not fit into the rules you laid out," the teacher said, "but for me, that was an A+ blowjob." Clint giggled. "That's why we decided you don't get a vote." "Ya, you'd just say we all get an A+," Brandon agreed. "Which is really sweet," Russell put in. "But it messes up the scoring," Scott added. "These boys are very competitive," Santi told Kent with an amused smile as he sank down to the floor. "But as long as I don't have to wrestle, I'm happy." The Hispanic boy took hold of Kent's throbbing erection and swallowed half of it in one go. Kent's eyes rolled back. He was so blessed to have these wonderful, horny boys in his life. It might end up killing him, but he'd die happy. Santi understood even a jock with the stamina of Kent might be experiencing some exhaustion after two powerful orgasms. So the brown-skinned 12-year-old took pity on his hermoso mentor and tenderly brought the manhood back to life. The boy's massage skills with his fingertips were transferable to his mouth, as the tip of his tongue kneaded the tense shaft. "Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" the Brothers called out. The old Santi would have sighed at such uncouthness, but the more experienced Santi understood the primal male need to grunt and bellow and dominate. Of course it was his idol Antonio Cruz who'd shown the Latino youth the path to that side of masculinity. But Kent was the embodiment who allowed Santi to truly experience it in the flesh. "Ooooooh, sweet pepper," Kent moaned. Santi was surprised to discover Kent so excited by this Brotherhood game to the extent that no refractory period was necessary. The testicles were rolling in the scrotum, preparing to fire off the second of the triple gushes! Kent had received a lot of sweet, tender attention from these beautiful boys. However, he wasn't used to not being able to do anything back. It made him twitch with longing to touch or caress Santi. But Kent was at heart a sportsman and he was not going to mess up the game these kids had worked so hard to set up. Neither did Kent move his hips as the determined Latino boy sucked and slurped away. The teacher simply sighed and moaned, and he gasped when shooting another load, this one flying over the boy's nimble tongue. Santi choked and gulped, but a bit dribbled down his chin. He wasn't as experienced as Ryder, after all. Though Kent certainly had no complaints. Scott got right up into Santi's face to check, as the first two calls were "B-", but those judges had to be blind 'cos as per the rules there was only a "BIT of spillage" so loudly for all to hear Scott graded the chugging a solid "B!" Fortunately, the rest of the Brothers agreed with "B" and even though Ryder was leading with a "B+" the athlete in Scott had to make sure the calls were fair. The blond, almost-13-year-old helped his boyfriend up. "Y'ok?" "I am, gracias." "Proud a ya, Santi. Coach totally kept'cha hydrated. Ok, last but not least we got the Clintster!" As Clint settled into place, Brandon came over with a couple of "accessories." Kent raised an eyebrow at the middleschool pitcher, who gave an unapologetic shrug in response. "Look, everyone knows my little bro here is a cocksucking master. He's like the Michael Jordan of blowjobs." Clint giggled. "Aww, thanks." "Plus, he's got way more practice with your dick than any of us, so no one else would win if we didn't give him a handicap," Brandon went on as he tied a blindfold around Clint's eyes. "We figger, if he can't see ya and can't hear ya, then he'll have a tougher time bein' ready for the big splashdown and that'll make it much more fairer." The eldest Welsh brother put some noise- cancelling headphones onto his little brother's head. "There." "You guys are silly," Clint said with another laugh. The dark-haired 10-year-old found Kent's dick by feel and popped it into his mouth. It was super weird and yet kind of cool having his boyfriend's gigantor dick in his mouth without being able to see or hear. Like, the whole world was just that dick and his mouth. And it did make it tougher, 'cause he was so used to listening to all the familiar noises that signaled when the man was about to shoot. "I say he still wins," Scott said. "I wouldn't bet against him," Russell agreed. Clint worked his mouth back and forth, doing his best to give his lover as much pleasure as possible. The little boyfriend HAD done this a bunch of times and he kind of knew how the third of the triple gushes worked. By feel alone, he licked and sucked the throbbing erection, using all the tricks he knew that drove Kent crazy. When the come blasted into his mouth, it was a surprise, but Clint quickly gulped down everything he could. How he loved drinking his Greek god's spurt. It was just the best thing in the world. Russell knew their youngest Brother wasn't able to hear a thing, but it didn't mean the others couldn't offer moral support. "Chug! Chug! Chug!" he called out. Smiling, the slender blond heard his fellow Brothers fall in line. It was a shock to see more spillage than anticipated from Clint. Without all the telltale signs, the boy unfortunately let the first shot escape his lips and made a bit of a mess. Russell was forced to call out a consensus of a "B" grade. Always the considerate one, the Mormon boy leapt up to help remove the blindfold and headphones from the tyke, but Scott was already on it. Instead, Russell rushed up and lifted Ryder onto his shoulders to celebrate the inaugural victory in the Brotherhood chugging contest! "Ry-der! Ry-der! Ry-der!" everyone chanted as Russell carried the other blond around the den. Naturally, the boys were super wound up after the game, since none of them had gotten to cum yet. Ryder had won the privilege of choosing who would have sex with who. He and Brandon dragged Scott and Santi off to the bedroom, leaving Kent with Clint and Russell on the couch. Of course, the coach was worn out, but his two boys were content to just make out for a bit while he recovered. In the bedroom, Ryder and Brandon double-teamed Scott, who was more than content to be between them on all fours. Santi wriggled underneath and was able to give the blond eighth grader an achingly sensual blowjob. Scott was soon making the sexiest noises as every part of him was stimulated. If he didn't have Ryder's dick in his mouth, the footballer would have said it was "solid state." In the den, the boys did get Kent up for one more round, and soon Russell was bouncing up and down in the man's lap while Clint gave the sweet middleschooler an enthusiastic sucking. On the TV, the trio watched the countdown in Times Square as the ball dropped. "Five..." Russell shuddered in his teacher's arms. "Ohhh, Kent... Mmmm... So g-good..." "Four..." "Yeah, string bean, me too. You're such a sexy boy." "Three..." "Gonna... Oh mercy, I'm gonna c-c... shoot..." "Two..." "That's so hot, Russell... Cum with me as I pound your tight little ass," Kent grunted. "One..." "Ahhhh!" Russell cried out and fired his watery squirts into Clint's eager mouth. "Happy New Year!" the TV people shouted as Kent unloaded yet again, this time pumping his regular shot deep into the kid's body. Sitting there in post-orgasmic bliss, the muscled wrestler felt absolutely certain it was indeed going to be a happy new year. ***** All too soon the holidays came to an end, but the memories of those days and nights with his boys would never leave Kent. He returned to work wearing a perpetual smile. The Brotherhood had become something special beyond his wildest imaginings. The love and care the group had for each other (and him) was incredibly strong. Whatever this small town might throw at them, the teacher was sure they could get through it together. Soon after returning to work, Kent received a memo from the principal: To: All staff members Re: Recent vandalism Please be aware that some hooligan(s) has been defacing posters for the Blessed by Christ club here on campus. The nature of this vandalism is too vulgar to discuss for any who have not seen it, but it is also impossible to miss. If you discover the party responsible for this disgraceful attack on one of our most cherished clubs, report them immediately. The memo made Kent deeply curious, because for the vandalism to have ruffled the feathers of his uptight boss this much, it had to be something pretty offensive. And that made him want to see the defacement for himself. Kent didn't have to wait long. The next morning while heading to his office from the parking lot, he spotted a boy outside with a can of spray paint. The graffiti artist was making fairly skilled outlines of penises on the new posters that had been put up by the Christian club. And he was so focused on his "art" he didn't seem to notice Kent's approach. "Excuse me," said the teacher. "Fuck off, mate, I'm busy here." The mixture of blue and red dye in the boy's hair made him impossible to mistake. It was one of their new transfers - Reginald. Though, as the student had mentioned in class, he went by "Rex." The scrawny 12-year-old was dressed in just shorts and a tee in spite of the chilly weather. The design on his shirt had an old album cover on it from the band Van Halen. The album was OU812 and Kent suspected the kid liked the pun more than the music. One needed only a single encounter with Rex to know the kid was a born rascal. "All right, that's enough," said Kent. "Give me the paint can." "Why should I?" "So you don't end up in the principal's office and suspended." The boy finished his latest artistic masterpiece and then turned and squinted up at him. "Right, ok. I'll stop." Rex started to put the can away in his bag, but Kent grabbed it from him with a shake of his head. The little punk glared and tried to get it back, but he didn't have a chance at that. "You can't just take my stuff!" Kent spotted Vice-Principal Jenkins en route to her parking spot. Without thinking, he stuffed the can of spray paint into his own duffel bag. Then he collared Rex before the boy could make an escape. "Oy! Watch the hands, Mr. Universe!" "We need to talk, let's go to my office," Kent said and dragged the student into the school. Rex Jameson rolled his eyes at least three times and kept up his cool snarl right up to the point when he slumped into the chair opposite the gym teacher's desk. "Can I get you a water?" the conformist muscle man asked. "Got anything stronger in that desk drawer?" Rex asked while criticizing the room with unimpressed glances at the inspirational posters and other boring shite on the walls. Fucking Jesus, was this town a hellhole of self-righteous Godfreaks. Dicking up all those bible adverts was Rex's judgment and vengeance. "Do you want to tell me what this is all about?" Ugh, Rex sensed a lecture coming up and one thing the punk-for-life refused to fucking stomach was a lecture. But the boy couldn't deny the fact this lunkhead did kinda save his ass from the authorities. It was pretty dope of said lunkhead to ditch the cans, because that old hag walking from her car looked like she'd have been a hundred times worse. "Thought this town could use a little culture, mate," Rex said, with maybe a little less snark, but it was important to always be vigilant and not let your guard down. "You were just transferred here from the local Catholic school." "Ya, I kept saying 'hail Satan' instead of 'hail Mary.' I guess it got on their nerves." Rex shrugged and put his high-topped feet on the desk. "So, you can spare me the whole schtick about keeping my nose clean and whatever." "You want to be kicked out?" "Why not? Never been kicked out of two institutions in one year before." As a teacher, of course Kent was used to students who didn't give a damn about school, but he hadn't met one yet that wanted to get booted. He met the kid's eyes, trying to read him. The wall of toughness was clearly a defense mechanism, but there was no telling what was hidden behind it. "Your folks don't care if you get expelled?" "The fossil and his trophy wife? They're likely in Madagascar or Marrakesh or Madrid, far away from the slings and arrows of us plebs. Goddamn, mate, yer office is just shy of having a poster of a suspended kitten with the words 'hang in there.'" Rex smiled to himself at manufacturing that puzzled look in adults, the one where they tried to get a bead on who the fuck they were dealing with. Mutherexfucker, that's who! "So, who's taking care of you, Rex?" asked the gym bunny in gray sweats. Shit, this teacher just wouldn't let up. It was time to shut down the gag-inducing hippie hug. "Family." "Family? But you said they were overseas." "Did I?" "You have an aunt or uncle here?" "No shit, Sher-jock." Kent smiled, which incurred a scowl from the little punk. Of course he could see that Rex was trying to get a reaction out of him. The boy was probably too smart for his own good and clearly way too big for his britches, as Kent's mother would say. But there was something sort of charming about his feistiness. "Well, look, I get you're not a fan of the religious folks here. I can't say as I blame you. But since they're just looking for a reason to throw you out, why would you want to make it easy for them?" That seemed to stump Rex for a moment. "Well, I ain't gonna be their goody-good Bible- humper." "You don't have to be. This is a public school, so they can't expel you without reason. And you're already infuriating them with your hair and your clothes. Maybe just enjoy that for a while and stop with the vandalism." OK, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED, Rex thought, DID THIS HAYSEED PULL A BRILLIANT REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY? Rex Jameson was momentarily flustered, and Rex Jameson did not like to be flustered, even momentarily. No one had ever encouraged the youth to act out; and it made no sense whatsoever such advice was coming from an adult. Hatred boiled within Rex yet it didn't come from a place of anger. No, it was because against every instinct the boy found himself liking this man. Who the fuck was this Mister - another quick glance on the wall revealed the name - MacTiernan? "Uh..." SHIT FUCK CUNT, Rex was at a loss for words. The suggestion from this Mr. MacTiernan had short-circuited his brain. "Well, sir, this has been just swell and peachy keen, but I had better vamoose my caboose to my next class." Kent shrugged. "All right. Well, I'll see you third period then." The student was definitely a handful, but the teacher was sure there was something special behind the attitude. Kent wasn't fond of "bad boys" per se, but Rex's swagger and self- assuredness were amusing. The man would keep on eye out for the boy and make sure he was settling into the school well. "My paint?" Rex said, holding out one hand. "Not happening." The kid narrowed his eyes. "It's mine. Stop mugging me off." "It's confiscated. You better run along before I start thinking you do need to be punished." Rex rolled his eyes. "Fine. Gimme detention and gimme my paint back." "I was thinking extra laps when you get to my class." Kent raised an eyebrow. The boy frowned. "Fine. I'm out of here, cheers," he said and stormed out. Pizza Palace had become the unofficial hangout of the Brotherhood. According to Ryder, at least, but all the other boys in the group seemed to be in agreement. The always-awesome Delores made sure to reserve a section every time they came in for a visit and never charged for ice cream ever. All six Brothers were squeezed in together - Ryder, Brandon, Clint, Russell, Santi and Scott. It was their latest member of the group who'd called a meeting to discuss a problem. "So, what's up, Scott?" Ryder asked as they shared a couple baskets of fries together. "Ya-no, it's not really any... It's nothin' to do with th' Brotherhood or nothin'. Well, not like... well, not really." "Oh, phew," Clint said. "I was kinda worried maybe one of us did something you didn't like and I was thinking all day about it and-" A single finger was slit across Brandon's neck as a warning to shut it. Clint bit off the rest of his sentence. But he did stick his tongue out at Brandon just for the principle of the thing. The look from his big brother told him he was definitely in for it when they got home. Scott went on, "So, uh, Kent explained to me how the number one rule of the Brotherhood is we don't talk 'bout the Brotherhood - like that one really old movie. An' I get it, ya know, like I'd never tell my dad 'bout any of this. But my best friend in the world, Jacob, is gettin' real mad at me, sayin' I'm ghostin' him." "Jacob's the guy we met at one of your football games," Brandon put in. "Ya, he's always been, like, way supportive of me," the QB said. Santi rubbed his back. "He doesn't know you like boys?" Scott shook his head. "Ya-no. I didn't even know until we... uh, ya. Anyway... Me 'n' Jacob usta hang out all the time, but now I don't see him as much." The blond athlete winced at the memory of his bff interrogating him, wanting to know why he was being ditched. Since there was no way to tell the truth, all Scott could offer were lame excuses and that had just made things worse. "You can't, like, tell anyone, even him, about us," Ryder said. "Only Kent gets to, 'cause he's the decider." "Ya-no, I get that, but... I mean, I don't wanna be a jerk to my buddy, either. He's always been there for me. Before you guys, he was th' only one I trusted an'... What'm I gonna do?" Scott looked around the table, twirling his fidget spinner in agitation. Brandon delivered a friendly punch to the dude's arm. "Don't sweat it, bro, I'm sure if we go to Big he'll think a somethin'." "Kent will be able to offer up some solution, I'm sure," Russell said comfortingly. "Our hermoso mentor can handle anything," Santi added with a warm grin. "That's all good, ya," Scott replied. "But also no. I mean, Jacob's totally straight, so it's like, ok, even though I really wanted ta say, um - y'know - to Jacob I couldn't, an' even if I could, it's not like what you all did with me an' Santi by not sayin' nothin' at first, 'cos 'ventually I guess ya thought we could handle the Brotherhood. I really wanna hang out with Jacob an' there's no way I can, y'see, 'cos what, no, right?" "Maybe drink a glass of water," Clint said, which sounded kinda serious but also kinda a joke, but without thinking Scott gulped down an entire glass like one of the competitors at the chugging contest. It actually helped, so Scott ruffled the kid's hair. "It's like that - what's the word, ya know, for when yer stuck wantin' to do somethin' but'cha can't." "Catch-69," Brandon suggested. "Bingo, Catch-69." Russell shook his head. "I think it's Catch-22." Brandon smirked. "Oops, right." Scott nodded. "Catch-22. 'Cos I need ta tell Jacob but can't tell Jacob an' it just goes 'round an' round in circles in my head." Santi felt so much sympathy for his boyfriend. At that moment he'd gleaned a better understanding of the pressures of the straight male world. As a boy rarely mistaken for heterosexual (except by some of the clueless townspeople), Santi did not have to put on a macho act in order to navigate the aggressive and brutish side of that male world. Consequently, he was freer to be himself. His boyfriend, though, did not enjoy the same luxury - having to always be aware of the persona of a straight jock. "Let me ask," Santi began, "what do you think would happen if Jacob found out about you?" "I dunno, y'know? Like, even if he had his thoughts that it's like whatever, we all know this place has a way of makin' people hafta say and do things that, y'know. An' I can't lose his friendship, 'cos it'd kill me, we been through too much together an' I can't risk that changin', so it's, like, AH!" Scott pumped the fidget spinner like he was about to break it. Kent was closing up the gym. Tonight was his date with Clint and he wanted to pop home to shower and shave and dress up in an outfit his partner would find attractive. He was about to lock his office door, when his wrestling instincts detected a presence. Whirling back, Kent saw a figure standing a few feet away... "Jacob, hi, what're you doing here?" "Coach MacTiernan, we need to talk 'bout my boy Scott." "Can it wait? I was just about to leave." "This gotta happen now, I'm sticking to you like glue 'til I got answers." Kent checked his watch. With a nod, he re-entered his office and gestured for the tall, black middleschooler to take a seat. "About Scott," Jacob said, "I've known him since we were knee-high to a grasshopper. Been the best friend a guy could ask for. And I will not see him hurt, you feel me?" Kent noted this wasn't the same young man he'd encountered occasionally during the football games. There'd been a gracious quality to Jacob in all their interactions, but here and now the boy seemed to be leaning heavily into an imagined urban vibe to sound more threatening. "I understand." "One thing you can say about my best friend is he's trusting, to a fault. Also, his family is loaded, what with the St. James Construction business. And that's pulled Scott into certain situations where he's been taken advantage of." "Jacob, I can assure you-" "Three times I had to rescue Scott from groups of so-called fast friends who only wanted him for his popularity and his money. It's always the same pattern. Suddenly he starts not being as available and then I see him with a group of strangers who convince him to go off here and go off there, just bilking him for everything he's got. And every time I'm sitting him down and explaining those people are not his friends. For a year now everything's been fine. But guess what, suddenly it's happening again. This time, though, there's a whole 'nother thing that's never happened before. It's obvious he's hiding something 'cause he's not a very good liar. So now I gotta deal with him not telling me the truth. That I will not stand." "Good." "I'm not finished. Don't think I haven't seen Scott go off with a new group of boys I don't even really know, and they seem to be hanging around you. Here's the difference. I respect ya, Coach MacTiernan. I can see you're a good influence on my boy Scott. Lately I've noticed he hasn't used his gadget as much, which says a lot. So, I'm giving this new group the benefit of the doubt. But only on one condition." "What's that?" "I need to know what's going on." Clint was excited as anything when Kent picked him up in his car and said he had takeout for their date, which was at their favorite spot by the sea. A blanket was laid out and they ate delicious Thai food together. Of course, the youngster was still hungry for dessert so he begged his boyfriend for a load of yummy spurt while receiving a handjob that ended with his own dry kablooey. "Ahhhh, Kent, that hit the spot." "Thanks, big mouth, I'm feeling a little more relaxed after a stressful day." "Uh-oh. Did something happen you wanna talk about?" Kent had insisted the Brotherhood always be honest with each other, and that included him. He didn't like worrying his boys, but keeping secrets had never gone well in the past. And all of them, even Clint, had proven themselves quite mature. "Well, lover, I had a little visit today from Jacob - Scott's friend? He's really worried about Scott and he wants answers as to why his bestie has been unavailable lately. I could see he was really upset and feeling very protective of Scott, but it wasn't possible to tell him what he wants to know. I can't put us in danger." Clint cuddled in close. "Scott talked to us about him. He's pretty upset too. What do you think he should do?" Kent stroked the boy's back. "For once, I really don't know. What did Scott say about the situation?" Clint felt so warm and protected around Kent, and the spurt always made his tummy happy. However, the youngster knew he couldn't think about any of that right now. "Scott talked kind of funny - like it was hard to figure out what he was trying to say. But him and Jacob have been friends since they were kids. And Scott knows he can't say anything about the Brotherhood. But he also thinks he can't tell Jacob about... like Scott said it like, 'I can't tell him about y'know.' The one thing he said that made me kind of sad was even if Jacob was fine with him being gay, the fact Jacob is straight and lives in this town might make the guy stop being friends with Scott or something even badder. Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but I think Scott really, really, really wants to tell Jacob everything, or at least that he's gay. We gotta protect the Brotherhood and all of us know you're the decider, but it's hurting Scott that he can't say anything, and you can tell 'cause, geez, he looked like he was gonna break his fidget spinner." Kent sighed unhappily. It was bound to happen, sooner or later, this conflict between their sheltered world of safety and the outside world of prejudice. The teacher had sensed Jacob was a good boy out to defend his friend. But the fact that Jacob thought Scott could be manipulated and exploited suggested the black boy might react poorly to hearing his QB best friend was sharing Kent's bed. "I'll have to think about it. And I'll need to talk to Scott. I'm sure there's a way we can fix this, but we have to be careful." "I know. It... It makes me all frowny, though, 'cause I mean why should anyone care what we do even if you're older'n we are, 'cause we're happy and that's all that matters, right? You made it so my brother and Ryder could be together, you helped Scott and Santi, you helped Russell find Hudson, you showed me who I am and all that's awesome, but they won't see it 'cause they're dumb, and now Scott's all messed up 'cause of something Jacob might say or do, and we can't find out without maybe wrecking what we have and it's not fair." Kent kissed him sweetly. "No, it's not fair at all." "You know, I woulda grown up pretty unhappy 'cause I woulda thought the world was all normal and there was something wrong with me, and even if I found out about Brandon also being gay I mighta thought we both had something wrong with us. It's like when I go to your place, THAT'S when it all feels normal and everything else outside feels like it's wrong. Well, 'cept of course our families and some of the people who're nice. I'm mad at this town for being the way it is, making us have to hide, but when I'm at your place it's like everything's warm and comfy and sooooooper sexy. Hee." Clint stroked his boyfriend's cheek and the couple made out gently on the blanket. "I'm happy I can make you feel good about who you are, big mouth." "Not just me - everybody. You know what's weird is that sometimes Brandon starts to act like the dad again, like he stops being a big brother and orders me and Dixon around, and I know my little brother hates that, but then sometimes after Brandon's been with you it's like he starts being a big brother again." "Huh. You know why that is?" "Nuh-uh. I just know if he never saw you again he'd probably turn back into a dad forever. Mmmmmm, my Greek god, I've been kinda worried about Scott, I wish I was older and knew what to do. But you know how I'll talk and talk, and then I'll joke I need a glass of water? Well, Scott was rambling and rambling, so I said maybe he should have a glass of water, and he gulped all of it down, and he actually said it made him feel better, so it was kinda nice that at least I could help him a little bit." Kent smiled at the tyke and cuddled him close. It made the man feel so much better knowing his boys were happy. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't thankful everyday that they let him share in their happiness, but even without that, he was content. Clint said with a mischievous smirk, "You know... I heard black guys have big dicks. Is that true?" "No," Kent answered, "it's not anymore true of black guys than other guys." "Really? You sure?" his little lover teased. "I never seen a black guy naked..." "You are such a naughty boy." The muscled athlete started to mercilessly tickle his lover and he didn't stop until Clint screeched for mercy. Then there were kisses and then the sweet kid was between his legs sucking him off again. That put an end to all of Kent's worries for a time. ***** Teaching middle school boys had its challenges. Kent would freely admit that, but most of the time he was able to handle it without a lot of drama. Fairly soon after the start of a school year, the students respected him enough to not mess with him. But now there was Rex. Instead of running the obstacle course, Rex got on his phone and played Candy Crush. So Kent confiscated the phone, over the boy's objections. Then he made Rex run a lap around the track as punishment. The moment the teacher's back was turned, however, the punk cut across the field to cheat and make it seem like he'd completed the circuit. Kent only caught him at the last minute. The kid was testing him, probably as revenge for the paint incident. There was nothing to do but simply be the teacher and not let the student get under his skin. Kent was in his office doing some paperwork after class, when yelling could be heard from the locker room. The man was on his feet instantly. If there was an injury or something, he had to be in full authority figure form. But no, there were no injuries. It was just Rex. The brat had one towel around his waist and the other one he was using to snap at the other boys as they came out of the shower. "Knock it off!" Brady Carmichael yelped. "Why should I, ya wanker?" "Jameson!" Kent snapped. Rex gave him one of his trademark smirks. "Yes, head master?" "Stop it. Get dressed and come to my office," the teacher ordered him in his best "don't fuck with me" tone. Kent returned to his desk. What was he going to do about this kid? Everything in the boy's file said Rex was a habitual problem child. He'd been kicked out of a half dozen schools. He had no respect for authority. Somehow, Kent needed to put an end to it. Rex rolled his eyes and went to his locker. Motherfucking Carmichael was shaking his daft head and that was met with the punker's trademark middle finger. The worst part about this whole thing was, MacTiernan actually seemed like he might have been halfway decent. But of course the man was turning into a major pill just like every other adult in this shite little hamlet. Another no-name brand kid shook his head at Rex. That was also a FUCK NO; the appropriate response from Rex was to feign drying the undercarriage and really getting in that crotch while sporting a big fucking smile. Ha, no-name brand turned beet red and fled the locker room. Rex had been told by "coach" to get dressed and come to the office. So that's exactly what the youth would do. He wrapped the towel around his waist, strutted down the row of lockers and entered the gym teacher's sad little room. Ah, that instant disapproving look of the aforementioned gym teacher was so worth it. "What, mate," Rex uttered with mock puzzlement, "you didn't say what to dress in." The punker slumped in the seat, his smirk creeping back into his face. Kent was quiet for a bit as he appraised the brash tween. Brandon had swagger and could be badly behaved, but he wasn't as bad as this. It was like Rex was bent on this self-destructive course and refused to let anyone save him. "I suppose I should give you detention. That's what you're expecting, right?" One bony shoulder lifted. "Whatever." "According to your file, you live with your aunt. Also according to the file, the administration hasn't yet been able to reach her to discuss your behavioral problems." Rex rolled his eyes. "She's really busy with her old biddies' club meetings." Kent chuckled. "I see..." And he did. The picture was getting clearer now. "And when you get kicked out of here, where will your dad send you next?" That earned the teacher his first genuine expression - the boy threw him a heated glare. "Don't know. Hope it's warmer than this dump." Kent wanted to tell this student that no matter how many schools he got booted from, his dad was never going to give him the attention he clearly craved. But of course the boy wasn't open to hearing that sort of thing right now. "I'm not giving you detention or sending you to the principal. But I am assigning you extra work. Consider it a make-up project for missing the first half of the year. Starting tomorrow, you're going to show up at 7AM and I'll supervise your workout routine personally." Rex dropped his mouth open with the most exaggerated look of shock he could muster. "Hahahaha! I don't get out of bed until 20 minutes before school, so good luck with that, mate." "I'm not joking," said the conformist lunkhead who'd held such promise but was proving to be just another part of this tragic tale told by an idiot signifying nothing. "Ah, well," Rex replied, "lemme think about it." He scratched his head like he was actually considering the offer, all the while making his middle finger a little more prominent than the others, but not so blatant as to be unable to claim plausible deniability. "I wonder what would happen if the students found out swimming lessons were announced instead for the rest of the month, all thanks to their newest classmate. The outdoor pool is heated, but it IS January." "C'mon, Mac, you wouldn't dare." "Either early-morning workouts or freezing-ass group swimming lessons. Take your pick." Rex hated being cornered, but Mr. Universe had him by the balls. The punker would hate the man if he weren't so fucking dishy. An idea entered Rex's head on how to react and before he could calculate the acceptable level of damage it would incur, the youth's involuntary response to the gym bunny's threat was already underway. "Hey, Mac," said Rex with a silky purr, "there must be some other way I could repay my debt to society." The punker licked his bottom lip subtly - uncrossing and recrossing his bare legs in the towel - momentarily flashing his partial chub. Kent's eyes darted to the package the boy was coyly revealing. It lasted for only less than half a second, but it still happened. The boy's eyes met his and there was no doubt he had noticed his teacher giving him a brief glance. Even though Kent knew this was just another gambit Rex was pulling, another way to flip off an authority figure, it was curious how the punk was semi-hard while doing so. That Kent had shown interest instead of disgust had clearly stunned the boy. It was nothing to worry about, no evidence of misbehavior on the teacher's part. Certainly if Rex went to the principal about it, his reputation as a troubled kid would never dent Kent's good name. So the man just kept his eyes locked with the boy's, upping the ante with a faint smile and arched brow. Rex tried to scowl at him, but his fair cheeks were glowing crimson. And, even more curious, the tent in his towel was growing. The teacher had figured the student was seeking attention - he just hadn't guessed what sort of attention young Rex was actually interested in. "I'll see you here tomorrow morning, 7:00 sharp," Kent said. Rex muttered something before storming out of the office. The teacher watched him go with a look of amusement; he wasn't sure what to make of the punk's revelation, but it was pretty clear he had at least won that round. If Rex turned out to be the sort of boy who'd appreciate more attention from Kent, well, that might not be so terrible. Brandon decided Scott needed some stress relief. Nooner with teach was the answer. The pitcher understood the footballer was big on threesomes, so it was a win-win situation. Of course, Brandon's generosity only went so far, as he was in desperate need of Big's gusher. So he was bent over first, while St. James kneeled on the desk in order to get serviced. At least by now the blond dude was used to hearing all the dirty talk. "Yeaaaah, you're my fucking whore," Kent grunted while thrusting away up the Welsh boy's chute. "Nnnnhhh, that all you got? Harder!" Brandon mock-scolded between mouthfuls of his Brother's cock. "You're the school slut, bitch, you don't get to jack it. Fffffuuuuuck yeaaahhh..." "Aw, naw." "I said stop tugging it, slut. Dirty fucking come dump." "God, yeah, think I'm gonna spooge without touchin' myself." "That's 'cause you're a whore. My punk-ass bitch." Both Brandon and teach nutted at the same time, the youth spraying his watery squirts across the desktop. Then it was Scott's turn to get plowed while Brandon knelt on the desk and got him to clean his cummy rod. "Mmmmnnnnnnn," moaned Scott. Brandon grinned. "Yeah, teach'll make ya feel good, bro." "Oooohhhh, Scott, you're nice and tight," sighed Kent. The newest recruit got so excited he was jizzing in no time and had to let the coach thrust a bit more before a load was delivered up his ass. Brandon wanted to get some weight training in before the lunch hour was over, so he pulled up his shorts, slapped hands with Scott and headed out to the gym. Kent noticed Scott wasn't in any hurry to get dressed. Together the two of them sat on the desk, Kent's arm around his star athlete's shoulders. He could feel the tension radiating off his QB in waves. "That was solid state," Scott managed at last with a small smile. "Yeah, it was," Kent agreed. "So, you've got quite a problem with your buddy, I guess?" "Huh? Oh, ya-no, its super confusing... But don't'cha worry, I won't tell 'im nothin'." "Well, I know Jacob's worried about you. He came to see me yesterday." "What? Why? What'd he say? What did YOU say?" "Easy, fidget. Jacob just told me he's worried we're taking advantage of you. And he wanted to know what was going on. I told him there was nothing to worry about, but I don't think he believes me." Scott frowned. "Um... I can't say much, 'cos it's Jacob's thing, but, well, he had a Big Brother once. It only lasted for a couple months. Guy was... not a good person like you. Anyway, Jacob knows you're Ryder's Big, so he probably's got trouble trustin' ya 'cos of that." Kent's protective instincts flared up. But Jacob was not his to look after, and Scott needed his attention. "I don't know what we're going to do about this, fidget. I'm sorry, but I don't. I have to think it over some more. But we WILL find an answer, ok?" The quarterback nodded, looking miserable. The coach was glad the blond athlete trusted him enough to fix this. He just didn't know what the solution could be that would keep everyone safe and happy.