Date: Sun, 13 Feb 2011 14:20:57 +0000 From: Mr Skinny Subject: Geeks Get Hot - 6-Brad Disclaimer: The following piece of fiction contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adult males aged over the age of 18. Please do not read further if the subject matter might offend you. If you are aged under 18 (or 21 if that is the law in your state or country) please leave this site without reading further. Patronising things you should read: Fictional characters cannot get hurt and do not feel pain. Real people can and do. Actions have consequences, and the author does not in any way condone suicide, self-harm, self-mutilation, or any form of self-abuse as a coping mechanism. Note from Author: This part of the story is told by Brad. To read the chapter's events from Anthony's perspective, go back to the main `Geeks Get Hot' folder. Geeks Get Hot (part 6) – Brad "Come on guys! You'll enjoy it once we're inside!" The guys from along our dorm corridor were doing their best to persuade me and Anthony to join them in hitting a nightclub. They weren't succeeding, not for me at least. We'd had a great meal together, then moved on to a bar and then another, busier bar that had had loud music playing and colored lights that circled the room and flashed on and off in time with the beats of the music. It had been alright to start off with, but as the night went on, and the bar filled up more and more, I began to feel more than a little overwhelmed at being surrounded by so many people. It was a relief to finally leave the hot stuffy interior of the bar, and I thought we were all going to head back to the dorms, but someone suggested moving on to a club and the idea was quickly voted an excellent proposal, with everyone talking excitedly about it. I had hung back as the group started off down the sidewalk in the direction of the nearest club. A couple of them had turned round to ask why I was being slow. "I don't really fancy going on to a club. I think I'm just about ready to head back to the dorms." I said. "Oh Brad, don't be so boring dude! It's your first night out in this city – live a little! You never know you might even get lucky!" I almost laughed out loud at the suggestion. With my looks and body?! As if! "No, you all go on though and enjoy yourselves. I'm not too into the loud music and shit." "Yes, I might give it a miss too," Anthony had suddenly said. "What? Anthony, you too?! Oh Jeez, what is wrong with you guys?! Don't you want to go have a dance, meet some chicks, have some fun..." "Yes, but just not tonight. I'm still not completely over the jetlag. I've had a good evening so far, and I think if I stayed out I'd just get tired and grumpy and not enjoy myself. They'll be other times. There'd better be, anyway!" Anthony said, moving to the back of the group to stand next to me. "Oh come on guys! You'll enjoy it once we're inside!" "Sure we can't persuade you?!" We shared a look, and shook our heads at them. "Okay, but don't let's hear you complaining tomorrow at all the pussy you missed out on!" "I heard this club gets rammed with hot chicks, all gagging for it!" Anthony laughed softly. "I'm sure we'll survive. Besides, I get the feeling you'll all enjoy bragging about what we've missed anyway." "Too right we will!" "See you both later. Pussies!" Their insults were in good humor. Anthony stuck his middle finger up at them in reply, and we all laughed, before they carried on down the road, and Anthony and I started walking back up toward the college campus, talking about how good the evening had been. We rounded a corner and saw in the distance a group of maybe 4 or 5 guys aged about 14 or 15 standing by a bus stop. Two of them straddled bicycles and one had a skateboard propped up against his side. It was the sort of group that when I was their age and in high school, I would cross the road or turn back on myself to go a different route so as not to have to walk past them for fear of what they might say or do to me. But I wasn't some loser 15 year old with braces and acne and unfashionable clothes now, I was in college and walking next to my new friend Anthony. For once in my life, I felt no fear while walking toward them. How wrong could I get? I noticed Anthony had quickened his walking speed, and I had to lengthen my strides too to keep alongside him. We drew level with the group of guys, and suddenly I was hit with the full-scale onslaught of their abuse. "Hey, check out the geek!" "Dude do you even own a mirror? Have you seen what you look like?!" I felt a bicycle wheel knock into the back of my leg as I walked past the first two guys, and it made me stumble slightly. I heard two loud snickers of laughter, and then felt one of them push me on the shoulder, knocking me off balance and into Anthony, colliding with him. "Whoa you're so skinny I'm surprised the wind doesn't blow you over!" My eyes kind of closed down, and I stumbled blindly forward, tripping over an outstretched foot, only just managing to keep myself from falling over. There was a loud bout of mocking laughter. "Don't trip dude!" one of them catcalled. In seconds I was transported back to high school, walking through the crowded locker area, walking through the yard, standing in the line at the cafeteria, going to lessons, sitting on the bus, wherever, it was always the same – the name-calling, the pushes, the jostles, the shoves, the jeers, the insults...the personal torture was neverending. I felt a teenaged finger poking me hard in the back as we finally made our way out the other side and left them behind. "What a dork!" The words echoed through my mind awakening other memories of having those three words hurled at me. "What a dork! What a dork! What a dork! What a dork! What a dork! What a dork!" I was on autopilot, just walking along next to Anthony trying to banish the thoughts and sounds from my head. Next to Anthony. He'd heard the way they'd spoken to me, the way people spoke to me. My nose felt like it was starting to run, and I sniffed. Then I felt tears pricking at my eyes and could tell I was almost crying. No, not now. Pull yourself together Brad. You can't cry in front of Anthony. What would he think of you? Probably even less than he does already after all that. I tried my absolute hardest to keep the tears in, but couldn't stop them in the end, and felt their wetness running down my cheek. What was it about me that made people act like that? They'd never met me, never seen me before, but had chosen to treat me the same as everyone at high school had done. Was I really that hideous and lame that I invited such comments? I was obviously born to be an easy target for people. And what must Anthony think? I'd thought with him beside me, I might pass them unnoticed, that since starting college I'd maybe morphed into just a regular guy. Certainly all the other guys on the corridor treated me as such. They probably wouldn't want to know me now though, not once Anthony told them how much of a loser I really was. They wouldn't want to hang out with someone who got called names and beat up by kids still at Junior High. Anthony hadn't said anything to me for a while. He was probably too shocked at seeing how people treated me and wondering why he hadn't cottoned on to the fact that I was such a first prize loser sooner. Probably summoning up the courage to announce to me that he didn't want to room with someone as worthless as me anymore. I felt like I ought to apologise to him, in case he was angry at me for having had him subjected to all that. I wiped my hand over my face, getting rid of as much of the evidence of my crying as I could, and sniffed to stop my nose running. "I'm sorry you had to witness that" I mumbled, looking down at the sidewalk, not daring to glance up in case he made eye contact with me. "What?" Anthony said. "Those assholes making fun of me," I said, sniffing, trying to keep the tears that stubbornly kept filling my eyes from spilling over. There was a short silence which I tried my best not to fill with the sob that was trying to fight its way out of my body. "It wasn't just you they were making fun of," Anthony suddenly said with pity in his voice. I felt his hand squeezing my shoulder. His friendliness almost made me burst completely into tears. "I bet if you hadn't been walking with me they wouldn't have said any of that stuff to you" I managed to say. "I'm not so sure. That's nowhere near the first time something like that's happened to me," he shocked me by saying. "People at my school were always taking the piss out of me. It's something that's always happened and probably always will happen. After all, wherever you go there's always going to be twats who have to make themselves feel big by taking the piss out of people cleverer than them." Whoa, he used to get bullied too?! I'd have never have guessed that. He always seemed so confident and at ease with himself. "But all that back there hasn't seemed to affect you though Anthony. You're not the one blubbing like a big girl." "It does affect me," he said, sounding a little angry. "It always affects me. Words cut deep. Whoever said "stick and stones can break my bones but names will never hurt me" was talking absolute bollocks. I suppose it's just happened so often I'm used to it now and have learned not to show it has upset me." Wow, what a great guy he is. I really wish I was a little more like him. Maybe he could teach me to ignore hurtful things a bit more and to not let things upset me so much. I let my thoughts run through my head, and we continued our journey in silence. It was a while after that that I noticed Anthony's arm hadn't left my shoulder, and had continued its hold on me, a comforting pressure, a reminder that I wasn't on my own and that I now had a friend to face things with. My head was really messed up now. We arrived back at the dorms, and got quickly washed and ready for bed. As I stood brushing my teeth, I examined myself in the mirror, red-eyed behind my stupid fucking glasses, my collarbones jutting out of my neck, my hairless puny chest white and pale beneath my untied bathrobe, and I felt a sudden rage sweep through me at how I looked. I felt like grabbing my razor and using it to score deep long cuts into my fucking repulsive body, cutting myself to pieces, taking my revenge on a body that nobody wanted to love, that nobody could bare to look at without making fun of it. Fucking skinny geek. I could see exactly why those kids had turned on me. Except Anthony had said it wasn't just aimed at me, it was aimed at him too...But how could that be? Yes, he's a little on the skinny side, but nothing like as big a social misfit as I am. He was probably just trying to make me feel better, making out he'd been through some of the same shit as me through high school. I concentrated hard on my breathing, and rinsed my mouth out, putting my toothbrush back in my washbag. Anthony was already in his bed when I got back to our room, and I killed the lights and got into my own bed, still feeling numb from what had happened. I lay still on my back, waiting to hear the confirmation that Anthony had fallen asleep, this time not so I could jack-off without him knowing, but so I could at last succumb properly to the tears. ... My alarm clock was going off! Automatically, I sleepily reached out an arm and hit the button on the top to kill the noise. From somewhere, my mind remembered a conversation with Anthony the morning before where we'd agreed to start setting it to get us in the habit for being awake at the time our classes would start. I breathed in and out deeply a few times, waking myself up, then stretched out, picked up my glasses and put them on, bringing the room into focus. Across the other side of the room, Anthony was sitting up in his bed yawning, rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking up even more untidily than usual. "Hey" I said sleepily. He let out some murmured groaning noise that suggested to me that he wasn't fully awake yet. He really did have trouble getting up in the mornings! I was feeling a lot happier this morning than I had been last night. I'd eventually cried myself to sleep, my pillow soaked wet with tears, but it must have done me good to get it all out of my system, and I had slept soundly and deeply for the first time in ages, without waking in the night once. I glanced over at Anthony, catching him in the middle of putting on his glasses. He definitely had the right attitude when it came to enduring the taunts of bullies; ignore them and don't let anything affect you too much. I didn't want to dwell on the upsetting events of the previous evening though, and quickly banished them from my mind to stop them spoiling the good mood I was for some reason in. My morning wood subsided, I threw back my bed covers, and automatically started my exercises, forgetting I was only wearing my blue briefs until I had already completed 10 push ups and could feel the sweat beginning to run down my bare back. It was strange how the first few days I had felt so awkward at even just taking my shirt off with Anthony in the room, and now I was dressed in just my underwear in front of him and not feeling even slightly uncomfortable, in fact, if anything, it felt a bit of a turn-on! I reached my 20th push-up and felt compelled to continue, feeling Anthony's eyes burning into the back of me, watching me, and wanting for some reason to appear as strong and as fit as I could in front of him, perhaps to make up for the night before when I'd felt so belittled in his presence. 25...26...Oh. My. God! This is tough! 27...28...go on Brad, just 2 more! ...29...Go on! Go on! Your arms *can* do it! 30! Fuck! That nearly killed me! My breathing fast and shallow, I flipped over onto my back to begin my sit-ups. I did feel a little self-conscious in that position, my bulge on full view, the tips of my pubes probably visible from round the sides of the crotch of my briefs if Anthony looked closely enough at me. My dick chubbed a little, and if I hadn't been concentrating on counting my sit-ups so closely, I'm sure I'd have sprung a full-on boner, but I luckily managed to keep everything under control. I made it to 50 (a few more than usual, again in an attempt to make Anthony impressed!) and collapsed onto my back, closing my eyes in relief, and waiting for my breathing to return to normal. "Whoa, impressive mate!" Anthony said, and I couldn't help smiling to myself and I lay there panting. "Looks like I'll be rooming with a muscle-god by Christmas if that's your usual morning routine!" he continued. Recognising his sense of humor, I raised my middle finger at him, too tired to say "fuck you, you sarcastic asshole" like I wanted to. "No, I'm serious," he protested. "Well, sort of!" And he laughed a little. "You're already getting definition in your abs and arms. Don't bulk up too much though or you'll give me an inferiority complex!" I raised an eyebrow at him, and looked at him straight in the eye. "Okay, okay," he said, "I'm joking, don't look at me like that! Seriously though I am impressed. I doubt I'd even manage one press-up, let alone thirty!" Wow, he'd been counting me! I blushed a little at his admiration, and suddenly felt the urge to explain to him why I'd started exercising. "My doctor said I might feel a bit more confident in myself if I exercised and filled out a little. It was hard to start off with, but it's quite rewarding now, even if I know I'm never going to look like a Jock, at least I know I'm not a complete weakling. You should try it sometime," I suggested him. "When you're thin, your muscles start showing through real quick." And thin, toned guys are hot! I wouldn't mind rooming with one of those! "Hmm" he said, not sounding convinced. "Maybe I will try it, but it would have to be a last thing at night thing for me – you know I'm no good in the mornings!" That was true! I laughed, and got up off of the floor, walking over to the wardrobe to get my bathrobe out. "Brad, is that a tattoo you've got on your foot?" His question caught me by surprise. He was the first person to ever see it (except for the tattoo artist, obviously), because I never went barefoot at home. I wondered what he thought of it, but suddenly felt a little shy in the realisation that he must have been looking at my body closely while I worked out. I felt myself blushing as I replied. "Um yes, yes it is," and I looked down at it, the date imprinted indelibly on my pale skin, 10-29-07. – October 29 2007, a date I'd remember for the rest of my life. "Wow! Bet it was painful getting it there" he said, admiration again in his voice. "What's it of? Please don't tell me it's your credit card PIN in case you ever forget it!" What do I say to that? It's a reminder of the day things got so bad I tried to end my life, a permanent reminder that however bad things get for me, they can never get as bad as that day was. No, that really would freak him out completely. But, at the same time, part of me wanted him to know the real reason I got it. I swallowed uncomfortably, and was all ready to tell him the truth about it, but at the last moment I found I couldn't do it. "It's just a...a date that's um important to me" I eventually ended up saying, reddening even more as I said it. I wondered what my parents would think if they knew I had it. Or Abby. Or Andy, or... They probably wouldn't understand why I'd ever want to be reminded of that day. But it's so reassuring to have something to prove to myself that I survived that day. Because if I know I can survive all that, then I'm strong enough to survive anything the world can throw at me. Shit, if I'd been thinking like this yesterday evening, I'd never have gotten in such a state after those kids had... Well, that's all over now though. In the past. Over. I had more important things to think about now. Like could I survive one more day without a shave, or was my stubble getting too untidy?! I absentmindedly stroked my scratchy cheeks and chin, and spoke to Anthony over my shoulder as I got my washbag out. "Do you think the bathroom will be busy? I'm still a little nervous about having to shower with lots of people around." "It's still quite early," he said. "I expect lots of people will still be in bed." "That's good," I said. "I'm going for my wash then. Coming? Or are you still not awake yet?" I teased. "Yes, I'll come too," he said, swinging his legs out of his bed. "Anything to stop your nagging about my laziness. Sometimes I do actually wonder if you're a clone of my mother!" He pulled a navy blue bathrobe around his thin, boxerbriefs-clad body, and picked up his own washbag and towel to follow me out of the room and to the bathroom. It turned out to be busier than we'd expected. I totally lost my nerve about getting naked and in the showers with so many people about, but had a shave instead, getting rid of the stubble that had been steadily building up on my face. Anthony had stripped off, and quickly headed into one of the shower cubicles, not giving anybody much time to glimpse his naked body. I finished shaving and splashed cold water on my face before towelling my face dry. I had to walk past the shower cubicles to exit the bathroom and as I passed by them I heard a mixture of faint whistling, and, disguised a little by the splashing of the running water, but unmistakeable nonetheless, the little grunting noises of someone jerking off. My dick lurched in my briefs at the sound, and I wondered which of the shower cubicles Anthony was in, whether it was maybe him I could hear. I suddenly became aware that I had paused outside the shower cubicle doors, which might look a bit weird to anybody watching, so started walking again, making my way out of the bathroom and down the corridor toward our dormroom. Halfway down, the door to another room opened, and a guy emerged, footballer's build with a hairy, slightly sunburned chest and big, very hairy legs, wearing just a pair of black boxer shorts that were impressively tented by...Oh my God! Was he actually boned up?! "Hey Brad," he said, itching under one of his arms. "Um, hey" I said, just about managing not to stare down wide-eyed at his tented boxer shorts. "You missed an awesome time at the nightclub last night dude, there were so many hot chicks there. I think all of us managed to get someone's number, and my roommate's still not back yet, which means he managed to get himself laid, lucky son of a bitch." I couldn't believe how anybody could stand in a corridor with a raging boner and strike up a conversation. "Well, I'll catch you later Brad," he said, and sauntered off down the corridor toward the bathroom, the peak in his shorts leading the way, completely at ease with his body and not looking in the least bit self-conscious about sporting such an obvious case of wood. Fuck, I wish I had that confidence. Fuck, I wish I could have had a glimpse of that cock! My own cock was hardening now, as I reached the door to my own room, and I debated whether to quickly take care of it before Anthony got back from his shower. I grabbed a couple Kleenex from the drawer in my bedside table, spat into my palm as makeshift lube, and quickly, frantically, started jerking my dick. Perhaps my body could sense my urgency, perhaps the sight of the tented boxer shorts had made me extra-horny, but for whatever reason, it had been less than 30 seconds, and I could feel myself on the brink of cumming. I covered the end of my dick with the Kleenex, and shot my load into them, gasping with satisfaction as I felt the spurts of cum leaving my body. Then I quickly tossed the sodden Kleenex into the trash can, and pulled on a fresh pair of briefs, tucking my still softening dick away just as I heard the door opening behind me and Anthony entering the room. ... The day had passed uneventfully. Anthony and I had gone with some of the other guys from the corridor to buy our books for our classes, and then hung out with them in our room the rest of the day, hearing countless times about what a great night we'd missed, and all about the hot girls that had been in the nightclub. Eventually, it got late and the guys left. Anthony and I talked for a little after they left, and then started getting ready for bed. With no embarrassment, (strange how quickly that evaporated, but I guess it showed how comfortable we'd become with one another) we both stripped off until we were wearing just our underwear, me dark gray briefs, and Anthony tight white boxerbriefs. I didn't feel sleepy yet, so I got the magazine I'd bought earlier that day and, getting into my bed and sliding my legs under the covers, started reading the review of a new game that had just come out. It sounded awesome, and I made a mental note to order it next time I went on my computer. Anthony got into his bed, and pulled his bedcovers up round his shoulders. He rolled onto his side and lay still for a bit, then rolled onto his back, then onto his other side, trying to get comfortable. I carried on reading, and read probably another 10 pages of the magazine, before I started feeling like I needed to pee. Anthony was still moving about restlessly in his bed. I closed my magazine and got out of my bed, walked over to my desk and dropped the magazine on it. Then I collected my bathrobe, tying it loosely round myself, still not feeling so courageous yet that I could walk down the corridor to the bathroom clad in just my underwear like a lot of the guys seemed to. I called over to Anthony "I'm just going for a leak. I'll switch the light out when I get back." I walked down the corridor to the bathroom, meeting no one. The bathroom was in darkness and nobody came in while I was peeing. I was tempted to jack-off while I was there, seize the opportunity while the bathroom was quiet, but then thought that Anthony might get suspicious if I didn't get back soon. I was feeling a little horny by this stage (well, actually, more than just a little horny!) and resolved to jack-off in my bed once Anthony had fallen asleep. I pulled the flush and made my way back to the dorm room. As I entered the room, Anthony let out a small gasp for some reason, and as I turned out the light, I heard his breathing heavy and irregular, almost as if he was out of breath, floating across from his bed in the darkness. Had he been... No, surely not. Not when he knew I'd only be gone for a minute or two. I felt my dick chubbing a little in my briefs at the thought though, and as I crossed the room after hanging my bathrobe back in the wardrobe, I surreptitiously sniffed the air, but there was no tell-tale scent of cum wafting from across the room. I must have been mistaken. I called over "good night" to Anthony, but he didn't answer. I got into my bed and lay on my back for a while, my mind building up a fantasy where instead of getting into my own bed after taking off my bathrobe, I had crossed the room and got into Anthony's, feeling down his body until my hand reached his boxerbriefs, feeling what was hidden inside them, to know for certain whether or not I had stumbled across him sneakily jacking off when I'd entered the room just then. I became aware of my dick tenting my briefs, and, reaching down, slowly took them off to let my dick free. I felt incredibly horny by now, and urgently needed to jack-off. I listened hard, craning my ears for signs that Anthony was asleep. Our room was completely silent, so I assumed that he had fallen asleep. He didn't usually snore or anything, so it was difficult to tell for certain, but he'd been so restless earlier, tossing and turning under his bedclothes, that the stillness and silence suggested that he wasn't still awake over there. I rolled myself over to the edge of my bed, and reached into my drawer for my lube. I got a generous amount in the palm of my hand, and immediately started rubbing my hand round my cockhead. Oh yes, that felt good. My hand made little wet, squelching noises as I began quickly stroking my fist up and down the length of my shaft. I was so hard and so horny and the sensations running through my body felt so good. I let out some little moans of pleasure to myself, I couldn't help it. Only little ones, nothing so loud to risk waking Anthony up, though I suspected he wouldn't wake up if there were a siren going off in the room, he slept so deeply usually. My whole dick was tingling as my hand sped up its movements. I groaned a little louder, caught up in my own private world of pleasure. Images flew through my mind, of Anthony's pert ass disappearing into the shower cubicle this morning, of the football player with the enormous tent in his shorts I'd met in the corridor that morning... "Mmmmm". Oh fuck yes, it felt so good, lying fully stretched out under my bedclothes, my fist pumping up and down my rock hard shaft, my bedclothes rustling with every movement of my hand, my left hand running backward and forward over my chest, circling round my erect nipples, making its way down to tug on my ball sac, fondle my heavy balls between my fingers... "Mmmmmm. Oh. Oh! Mmmmm". I felt the pressure building up, and increased my speed and pressure even more, desperate for release, for the intensity of the feelings that would envelop me. "Oh oh oh Oh! Oh!" Each moan flew out of me a little louder and a little higher in pitch than the last, until finally, I felt a sudden wetness on my stomach and that delicious feeling running through me and I let out an uncontrollable "Mmmmmm!" as cum continued to gush out of the end of my cock. I let out a deep sigh of relief and contentment, letting the waves of my orgasm wash over me. As I lay there in my bed, my hand still gently stroking my softening dick, I became vaguely aware of sheets rustling from across the room, and a muffled gasping noise as if someone was coughing into their pillow. My heart was in my mouth as I thought with horror that maybe Anthony was waking up. I quietened my breathing and listened carefully, but the only sound in the room was Anthony fidgeting a little under his bedclothes. Nothing out of the ordinary there. He was probably just moving about in his sleep. The smell of cum hung heavy in the air, seeming to fill the entire room. I hoped Anthony stayed asleep until it had dispersed. One whiff of that and he'd know for certain what I'd been doing. The smell seemed to me a lot stronger than usual. I guess I must have squirted a bigger load than usual. I reached for my briefs and used them to wipe down my stomach, quietly dropping them down the side of my bed afterward. My bedclothes soft against my now completely naked body, I turned onto my side and closed my eyes, ready for sleep at last.