Date: Tue, 20 Feb 2024 15:56:03 -0500 From: Parker Henderson Subject: My Best Friend's Little Brother- Chapter 8 All characters and events in this story are fictional. This story was written for entertainment purposes only. All feedback is greatly appreciated! Telegram: @ ParkerHenderson91 Gmail: parkerhen76@gmail.com Thanks for reading! :) If you're enjoying this story, or any of the other wonderful stories on the site, donate to Nifty @ https://donate.nifty.org/. My Best Friend's Little Brother Chapter 8: I Don't Care if I Never Get Back. I decided I would wait to tell Noah about Tanner's potential suspicion until our car ride home. I wanted him to enjoy our day without any worry. "You can pick the music, No" I said as we got into my car, "I don't care about the music" Noah said as he hit the Spotify DJ button on the car radio. We looked at each other and smiled. I put my hand on the center console. Noah put his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. I grasped his small hand firmly. We drove like that all the way downtown. As we drove Noah asked me about my job. I told him it's boring, but the hours are good, and it paid decently enough. "Define, `decently enough'" Noah said, smiling. "Why, you looking for a sugar daddy?" I replied, laughing. "You're already my sugar daddy," Noah said, laughing, "I just want to know if you're....like... a regular Mountain Dew Sugar Daddy or a Diet Mountain Dew Sugar Daddy" "I think I'm more like a Baja Blast Sugar Daddy" I said as I took my eyes off the road to look at Noah. "I love Baja Blast." Noah sighed, as he gazed into my eyes. I gave Noah's hand a gentle squeeze and returned my attention to the road. I needed to keep both eyes on the road, I was carrying the world's most precious cargo. We parked in a garage and went looking for a place to eat. I wanted more than anything to hold Noah's hand as we walked through the crowded streets, and by the look on his face, I knew he felt the same. We found the last table at a packed bar close to the stadium. The waitress brought over two menus, introduced herself, and asked what we were drinking. I ordered a beer for myself. "And he'll have a Baja Blast" I said, jokingly. Noah turned red. "I'm sorry, we don't have that, is regular Mountain Dew okay" The waitress said looking towards Noah. Noah smiled and shook his head no, turning redder still, sinking lower into his chair. It was Baja Blast or nothing for my boy. "He'll just have water" I said, with a smile, to the waitress. Noah and I looked silently into each other's eyes as if we were the only people in the bar, falling for each other even harder. We discussed what we wanted to eat. I wanted a burger and fries. Noah said all he wanted was a small salad. What Noah wants, Noah gets. "We have something serious to talk about, No" I said, smiling "What?" Noah shot back. "Tanner tells me you're a red sox fan" I said, laughing. Noah laughed too, then got serious. "Promise not to tell Tanner?" Noah said, laughing. "Of course." "I hate baseball." Noah said, plainly. Breaking my heart. "Then why did Tanner say you liked the red sox?" "I did like the red sox, when I was in 5th grade," Noah said, laughing at my visible heartbreak, "but that was a long time ago. I haven't been interested in baseball in years. It's so boring. But Tanner still thinks I love the Red Sox, and I pretend for him. He buys me baseball cards for Christmas and my birthday, which I have fun opening the cards with him, but then they just sit in my closet afterwards. Every year he takes me to a game, and I pretend to like it, but really I just like spending time with him.`` "You should tell him that." "That I hate baseball?" " First, You don't hate baseball, you just haven't learned to love it yet, second, no, tell him that you like spending time with him" I said, getting serious, "Tanner misses you so much, No. and today when he told you he couldn't go to the game you got way too excited. It hurt him." "I got excited because it meant we got to go on a--" Noah said, realizing where he was. We both knew he was going to say "a date", which it very much was a date, but we couldn't say that aloud. At least not in a crowded bar. "Noah, this weekend has been great," I said, as softly as possible, "I want to spend every single second with you, too... but tomorrow we go home. I'll be 20 minutes from you and Tanner will be eight hours away. You and I need to spend time with him." Noah smiled, slowly at first, then realizing what I was saying, stretched so large I thought it'd get stuck there. "So you wanna keep hanging out when we get home?" Noah said. "Of course, Noah," I said, smiling back at my boy, "I don't know how, but we will find a way to be with each other. Often. I promise you." We stayed staring into each other's eyes, longing after one another. If anybody were to look over at us they would have known our secret. I did not care. Shortly after we finally looked away from each other, the waitress came back with my beer and Noah's water. I ordered a burger and told her that Noah wanted a salad. "I love it when you order for me." Noah said, sighing. "I know." We were lost in each other's eyes again. "I want to make a deal with you, Noah" "Okay" "I will make an effort into liking your comic book movies, if you make an effort into liking baseball." "Really?" Noah said, excited. "Absolutely." I said, reaching out my hand for a handshake. Noah brought his sweaty hand to mine, and shook my hand. He gripped hard, a firm shake, somewhat surprising me. We enjoyed any skin on skin contact, and this was about all we could get away with in a packed bar. I finally worked up the will power to let go. "First lesson to loving baseball, is choosing the right team" I said, as I took off my Tigers snapback and put it on Noah's head, his wavy dirty blonde hair seeping out of the back and sides. He smiled wide and turned red. Just when I thought he couldn't get any cuter, he proved me wrong. Noah and I spent the rest of the lunch alternating between how he could learn to love baseball, and how I could learn to love his comic book movies. I couldn't wait to get him to the stadium to show him how much fun baseball could be. I bought a program with a scorecard as soon as I walked into the stadium. Then I got a beer. I asked Noah what he wanted, but he said he didn't want anything. Our seats were about halfway up in section 70, which was right by the left field foul pole, on the third base line. From the beginning of the game I taught Noah how to keep score. I demonstrated the first inning for him, and then handed him the scorecard and helped him keep score the rest of the game. He really enjoyed it. The Tigers got off to a quick start, and didn't let their foot off the gas. When the Tigers hit a grand slam to make it 12-0 in the bottom of the fourth, the once near capacity crowd started to thin out. Every time the tigers scored Noah and I celebrated with a hi-five, both wanting to celebrate with much more. By the time the 7th inning stretch came around the score was 15-1 Tigers and our section was nearly empty. Everybody had either moved to better seats or left the stadium entirely. We were the only ones in our row. The only people left in our section were in the first two rows, a good ten rows in front of us. Take me out to the ball game started to play and we stood to sing along, as tradition dictates. I threw my arm around Noah and pulled him in close to me. He nestled in even closer, his face to my armpit. I gently swayed us side to side as I sang along to the song. My boy on my left arm, a beer in my right hand, and a ballgame in front of me. The perfect day. As the song continued, Noah reached his left hand up and rested it on my left hand, which was on his left shoulder. His sweaty palm briefly rested on the hairy back of my hand. I moved our hands around, taking his hand and holding it. I pulled him closer, yet. I stopped singing and looked down at Noah, who was looking up at me. He had never looked happier. "I want to kiss you so, fucking, bad" I whispered in his ear. Noah moaned, never breaking his gaze at me. The song ended. We stayed like we were a moment longer. Never wanting to forget it. As we finally sat back down I put my arm around the top of Noah's seat, he leaned into me as close as he could. We both silently cursed the armrest between us. "I love baseball" Noah whispered, looking at me with the biggest smile. The bottom of the ninth rolled around, still 15-1. The stadium was even more empty. Noah put his flip flop covered feet up on the seat in front of him. Usually I'd consider it bad etiquette, but every seat, but ours, was empty in our section. Plus, it gave me an almost perfect view of his feet. There was just one small problem. "Take your feet down, Noah" I said, sternly. "Oh sorry" Noah said as he obeyed my order. "Now take off your flip flops" Noah smiled, obeying my order once again. "Now be a good boy and put your feet back up there." "Yes, sir" Noah sighed in pleasure, as he returned his, now bare, feet to the seat in front of him. "Good boy. I'll give you your prize later." I whispered to him, thirstly. Noah looked over and smiled at me, proud that he made me happy. I took Noah in. His eyes squinted as he focused on the game. He held the score card in his small hands, waiting to make the final mark. His beautiful tan, clean-shaven, legs stretched out. He slightly wiggled his suckable toes, teasing me. I quickly took out my phone and snapped a picture of Noah, making sure to get a good view of his feet in it. I wanted to remember this forever. It instantly became my favorite photo of all time.Noah was so focused on the game he didn't even notice me taking it. The home plate umpire called strike three. It was the 27th and final out. Tigers: 15. O's: 1. Me: hard.