Someday Out Of the Blue

by LittleBuddhaTW

Special thanks to Kitty (PiscesRising) for editing!

Disclaimer:
This is a story involving teenage gay males and may include sexually explicit content, adult language, and/or violence. If this kind of material is offensive to you, you are under the age of 18, or is illegal in the area where you live, do not read any further.



CHAPTER 8: HARMONY



"I ... I really need to get to class ... please let me go," I muttered, my gaze lowered at the cold, hard linoleum floor of the bathroom.

"Ha! You don't think I've noticed that you don't have your little boyfriend and his friends around to protect you anymore?" Trent Lomax laughed menacingly. "Now it's just you and me, white trash fag boy."

Actually, it was me, Trent, and three of his lackeys who had caught me off-guard by myself in the hallway right before second period and dragged me into the bathroom. I didn't think he knew that Ryan and I actually were boyfriends now, but I wasn't about to confirm his statement. I just stood there trembling, hoping that Ryan or one of his friends would come darting through the door like a knight in shining armor and save me from my current predicament. Unfortunately, it wasn't to be. I could only begin to imagine what kind of torture Trent and his goons would have on tap for me this particular day.

I soon found out as I was dragged roughly into one of the stalls, and my head was unceremoniously dunked into a toilet bowl full of stale piss and then the toilet flushed. I had thought that this form of bullying was an urban legend, the kind you only hear about on television or from upperclassmen trying to scare the new freshmen. In my case, however, it turned out to be very real, and very disgusting. Couldn't they have at least had the courtesy to flush the toilet first?

As they yanked my head out of the toilet, the piss water from my hair dripping down all over my clothes (Toby's nice clothes, actually), I could barely hold back the urge to vomit from the foul stench of urine, not to mention the absolute humiliation that I felt at that moment. I hadn't even struggled, hadn't put up a fight at all.

After Trent shoved me on to the floor and walked out, I realized that my humiliation wasn't over. I was completely soaked and reeked of stale piss. There was no way I could go back to class like this. Considering my very limited options, I determined that the only thing I could do was try to get my clothes as dry as possible with the automatic hand-dryer in the bathroom, and then go grab a quick shower in the boys locker room to wash the smell out of my hair.

Twenty-five minutes later, I hadn't made much headway in drying the clothes, but if I was to get in and out of the shower before the second period P.E. kids came in to the locker room, I had to get going. It would just add to my humiliation to get teased by a group of freshmen on top of what I had already endured.

When I stepped into the locker room, I was relieved to find that it was indeed empty. I quickly stripped off my still damp clothes and headed for the showers, where I proceeded to start washing myself, trying to scrub away the raunchy odor. Before I could finish, however, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a large group of rowdy boys pouring into the locker rooms. Just my luck. Resigned to my fate, I continued to finish up washing, keeping my eyes closed, hoping no one would notice the wussy sophomore who didn't belong there.

Suddenly, I felt a strong pair of arms grab me from behind, and what was undoubtedly a hard cock poking me in the butt. Trembling with fear, I heard a husky, menacing voice whisper into my ear.

"Hey fag boy, that's a real cute little ass you have there. Mind if I introduce my 'Captain Fantastic' to your tight little 'Brown Dirty Cowboy'?"

I managed to squirm free from my attacker's arms and turn around to face him, only to see a very naked, and very obviously aroused Toby standing there grinning at me. To say I was relieved would have been the understatement of the millennium.

"Toby!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Duh! This is my gym class," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"I ... uhhh ... I had a little ... uhhh ... accident," I muttered sheepishly.

He arched an eyebrow.

"Well, at least I finally got a chance to see you naked ... and it certainly wasn't a disappointment," he chuckled.

I was absolutely mortified. Not just that I was standing there naked in front of Toby, with him obviously checking me out, but there were already at least a dozen other boys in there who could have heard that comment. Plus, I couldn't help but notice Toby's naked form standing there in front of me, with his very hard and very angry-looking erection sticking out unabashedly in front of him. He was hot ... there was just no other word to describe it. He had an even nicer body than Ryan, and seeing him standing there in all his glory was starting to get a "rise" out of me.

He noticed me checking out his "goods," and gave me a cute smirk.

"Ummm ... Toby ... would you happen to have any extra clothes I could borrow? Mine kinda got dirty in my little ... uhhh ... accident," I said ashamedly.

"Sure, bud," he said, giving me a much warmer smile and a wink. "Just let me get rinsed off, and I'll get you a change of clothes. I always keep an extra set in my gym locker."

Toby and I finished washing, and after grabbing a couple of towels from the bin, we made our way to his locker where he handed me a fresh set of clothes and gave me a light swat on my bare butt. I would have been embarrassed, but I was just so relieved to run into Toby, and to have a clean set of clothes to wear for the rest of the day. I couldn't have loved him any more at that moment if I'd tried.


*******************************************************


I was sitting in my Chemistry class later that afternoon, trying to avoid the spittle that flew out of Mrs. Sanders' mouth when she lectured (a hazard of sitting in the front row), when Mr. Johnson, the school's band director, walked into the room and asked to see me outside for a few moments. I had never spoken to him before, so I had no idea what he wanted to see me about, and of course, that started to make me feel anxious. This obviously wasn't something I could just say 'no' to, so I got up and walked out into the hall to see what he wanted, all the while trying to imagine all the possible worst-case scenarios.

Mr. Johnson was in his early fifties, with graying hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and he had a peculiar odor about him that I couldn't quite place. He seemed nice enough, but had a very intense look in his eyes, which for me was a little intimidating.

"I saw your performance at the talent show, Mr. Matthews," he said. "It was very impressive."

Mr. Matthews?

"Uhhh ... thanks," I said, blushing. Was that the reason he pulled me out of class?

"Anyway, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked to see you. The thing is, our winter holiday concert is coming up in less than a month, and our jazz band lost our keyboardist because he couldn't keep his grades up. I was wondering if you might be able to fill in for him. If you like it, we might even keep you on next semester," he explained.

I'd never really played jazz music before, although it would probably be fun to try, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to get involved in any extra-curricular activities. First of all, it would mean having to meet a bunch of strangers, and I also had other things to consider, like my responsibilities at home, work, and spending time with Ryan. I felt like I was kind of being put on the spot, and I didn't like the feeling. I was hoping to have a little time to think it over, and also discuss it with Ryan, hoping he'd give me an excuse not to do it.

"Uhhh ... I'm not sure if I'd have enough time ... I kind of have a job ... when are rehearsals?" I asked.

"We usually only have one rehearsal a week, on Monday evenings. But since the concert is coming up soon, and we'd need to get you up to speed on the keyboard parts, we'll be having rehearsals on Monday and Thursday evenings until the concert. The parts aren't difficult, and there are only a few small keyboard solos, so I don't think you'll have any problem with it," he replied.

I really wasn't too thrilled with the idea, but I also didn't like saying 'no.' I felt bad that they seemed that desperate. If I hadn't done that talent contest, though, then nobody would know I could play the piano, and I wouldn't have had to deal with this. I didn't think I'd enjoy the jazz band thing very much if I did it, but I'd also feel extremely guilty if I turned him down. I didn't like anyone pinning any kind of hopes on me.

"Can I have some time to think it over?" I asked.

"Sure, that'd be fine, but if you're going to do it, I'll need to know by this Thursday evening. Our rehearsal is at seven p.m. in the band room."

"Okay," I said. "I'll let you know by then."

With that, he nodded and walked off down the hallway, and I went back to Chemistry class, preparing to divide the rest of my time in class between dodging my teacher's spit and memorizing the periodic table.

As I walked out of my last class, Ryan was standing by the door waiting for me, wearing a big smile. Now that he was finished with lacrosse for the season, we would be able to spend some time together after school, which I was looking forward to. We hadn't really had a chance to talk at all that day, since Ryan's friends were especially chatty at lunch. Fortunately, they didn't ask me why I hadn't been hanging out with them at lunch, nor did they seem to know about Ryan and me.

The only one (besides me, of course) who was really quiet during lunch that day was Mikey. He caught me staring at him a couple of times, and each time he blushed and looked quickly away. It was obvious that he knew that I knew what had been going on Saturday when he was "hanging out" with Toby. I was definitely curious about that, although at the same time, part of me felt a little jealous. It was probably selfish of me, but I kind of liked the feeling that Toby liked me, and I didn't know how I would feel if he ended up getting a boyfriend of his own.

"So, do you want to get something to eat?" asked Ryan.

"Yeah, sure," I replied.

"Is McDonald's okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied. My mind was elsewhere, and food wasn't exactly on my list of priorities, but I'd pretty much go wherever Ryan wanted to take me.

"Are you going to answer 'yeah, sure' to everything I ask?" he asked me with a grin.

"Yeah, sure," I answered, grinning back at him. That earned me a light smack on the back of my head. I was proud that I was developing a sense of humor, though.

Later that afternoon, as we were sitting in McDonald's, I watched as Ryan scarfed down his second Big Mac. I couldn't say what it was exactly -- something about the way he sat there -- but he looked like a little boy, and it was really cute. His short, reddish-brown hair was spiked up, and I loved that look on him. He really was an incredibly attractive boy, which made me wish that I wasn't so plain.

That moment reminded me that although Ryan often seemed mature for his age, he was still only sixteen, in many ways still a boy. I loved the mature Ryan, the one who would hold me and make me feel safe, but I also loved the little kid in him, the one who wrestled around with his younger brother while they were playing video games and the one who was sitting here now, stuffing a burger into his mouth like he didn't have a care in the world. So innocent ... so unlike me.

I'd told Ryan about Mr. Johnson's jazz band proposal, and much to my chagrin, he actually thought it was a good idea. He even offered to go with me on Thursday night so I wouldn't feel so intimidated. I was certainly glad that he would go with me, but I still wasn't looking forward to meeting all of those new people and being put on the spot like that. It seemed like Mr. Johnson and Ryan had me outvoted, though, so I begrudgingly agreed.

The thought to tell Ryan about what happened in the bathroom that morning with Trent Lomax also crossed my mind. I was sure that if I told Ryan about it, he (and probably Delcondris as well) would most likely do something to get back at Trent. However, I figured that if that happened, it would just give Trent even more reason to hate me, and the bullying would only get worse. So, as usual, I kept my mouth shut.

That evening after Ryan dropped me off at home (and a good ten minutes of hot tongue kissing ... YUMMY!), I walked inside and was greeted with quite a surprise -- my mother sitting on the sofa watching television, and Krull standing in the little kitchenette making Beef-A-Roni. I had never seen anything so ... well ... "domestic" at home before. My mother was obviously drunk, but still, it was a far cry from walking in on her getting hammered by "The Lumberjack." Krull even invited me to sit down with them to eat. I'd already eaten with Ryan, but I was so shocked by the concept of a "family dinner" with ... well, my mother and her twenty-five year old boyfriend ... I just nodded dumbly and sat down.

My mother didn't acknowledge me (even after my being gone for almost a whole week), but she didn't scream at me or hit me either, which was certainly an improvement. Krull even managed to ask me a few questions about school, and I answered as best as I could. I found out that Krull actually had a job, working as an auto mechanic, and had finished two years of community college. He obviously wasn't going to be a Nobel Laureate or anything, but despite his outward appearance, he was undoubtedly the best of the many guys my mother had brought home. What in the hell was he doing with my mother, then?! I still couldn't get over what was going on. It was all very surreal.


*******************************************************


"I'm still not sure I like this idea," I said, as Ryan was driving us to the school on Thursday night, my first jazz band rehearsal.

"Don't worry, it'll be fun. You might even make some new friends. You know, musician-type people," he said.

I was perfectly happy with Ryan, Toby, and my limited interactions with Ryan's friends. I didn't think I needed any more than that. In fact, I thought it was a waste of perfectly good time that we could have spent cuddling or something. I had a lot to make up for in the affection department, not having gotten any for the past six years of my life.

As I was thinking about that, I realized how ironic it was (and perhaps a bit stupid) that I could complain -- at least in my own mind -- about something like wanting to have more time to cuddle with my boyfriend, yet I never really complained about things like getting the shit beaten out of me by my mother. In fact, by my silence, I was defending her. For some reason, getting beaten seemed easier for me to accept. Go figure. Just more proof that I was a freak, and probably not good enough for Ryan anyway.

I clung very close to Ryan as we walked into the large band room. The school's band program was well-known, having won numerous awards over the years, evident by the many trophies on display. The marching band had been the winner several years in a row at the annual Miss America Pageant on the boardwalk in Atlantic City, and the symphonic band often won first place in the national competitions they traveled to every spring.

Unlike many schools, where all the money was given to athIetics, our school's band program was well-funded, and the facilities were quite nice. The room was covered in dark blue carpeting, all of the chairs and music stands looked brand new, there was a nice lounge area for the students, with couches, a refrigerator, and microwave, and large, new cabinets lined the walls in the back of the room.

I was starting to feel the beginnings of an anxiety attack, being faced with all of these new people, who were counting on me for their winter concert. Ryan kept patting my shoulder to reassure me, but it wasn't helping very much. As soon as we walked in, Mr. Johnson walked right over to us, and I instinctively squished up even closer to Ryan.

"Ahhh, Mr. Matthews, I see you've decided to join us," he said happily.

"Y-Yes, sir," I stuttered. "My b-b ... uhhh ... friend came here to watch. Is that okay?"

"Sure, he can sit down here near the office to watch. And you can go right on up to the last riser over there," he said, pointing up to the back of the band room, "and get settled at the keyboard."

I looked over to where he was pointing and noticed the Kurzweiler digital piano that I had fallen in love with. Well, I thought to myself, at least I'd get the chance to play on that again. I also noticed that I was one of the last to arrive, and everyone seemed to be taking their seats, putting their instruments together. It was a typical-looking school jazz band, with alto, tenor, and baritone saxophones, trumpets, trombones, a drum kit, bass player, and guitarist. I didn't take any time to look at any of the kids' faces, hoping to avoid any possible eye contact.

As soon as I'd gotten settled in and turned on the digital piano, Mr. Johnson walked up and handed me a stack of sheet music, which I just looked at dumbly. I glanced over at Ryan, who gave me a big grin and a thumbs up. I gave him a weak smile in return, and started thinking about where the closest bathroom was so I could go throw up.

Mr. Johnson walked over to his podium and got everyone's attention. After counting off, the band started playing. They were quite good. After only playing a few measures, though, Mr. Johnson cut them off and looked up at me, a slight frown on his face.

"Mr. Matthews, why aren't you playing with us? You're an excellent pianist. This should be a piece of cake for you," he said, sounding a bit annoyed.

With that, every head in the room turned to look up at me. I was definitely on the verge of passing out, I thought.

"Ummm ... uhhh ... sir, I ... uhhh ... I can't read music," I muttered.

"Excuse me?" he asked, sounding a little confused. "You can't read music? Then how do you play the piano?"

"I ... uhhh ... just sort of hear the music and then just sort of know how to play it," I answered softly, looking down at the keys on the digital piano. I wasn't really sure how I did it myself, much less how to explain it. I heard a song, then my fingers just knew how to move. I didn't really think about it.

"So how do you want to do this so you can play it, Mr. Matthews?" he asked impatiently.

"I guess ... uhhh ... maybe you guys could play it one time, and then I'll join in the second time. If that's okay, sir," I replied meekly.

With that, Mr. Johnson got the band into playing positions with a quick wave of his baton, and they started playing. As the song went along (and it was a pretty cheesy arrangement, by the way), the gears in my mind started cranking, and I heard how I thought the piano part should be played, sounding in my mind. A few minutes later, with a dramatic flourish of the director's baton, the song ended.

"Do you think you can join us now, Mr. Matthews?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes, sir ... I'll try," I answered.

With another wave of the baton, the band started up again, performing the same piece, but this time with me playing along. As the song went on, Mr. Johnson kept looking up at me quizzically, and I figured I must be doing something wrong. When the band finished, he looked up at me with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Mr. Matthews, how did you even know what key we were playing in or what the correct chord sequence was?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, sir," I replied. I knew what he was talking about, but again, I didn't know how I did it.

"That was quite impressive, son. However, this piece isn't a keyboard solo, so you might want to tone it down a bit," he said.

I guess I was playing a bit too aggressively. I wasn't really used to playing a back-up part. This was going to be a bit of an adjustment, but I didn't care. I would do whatever that man said just to get everyone's attention off of me.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," I said.

I glanced over at Ryan, and he gave me a wink and a thumbs up. I didn't think there was anything to be proud of, though. I'd just made an ass out of myself.

After running through a few more songs in the same way as before, with the rest of the jazz band playing first, then with me joining in on keyboards the second time, Mr. Johnson announced that we could have a fifteen minute break. I immediately made a beeline to where Ryan was sitting and plopped down on the chair next to him. He just patted my leg and grinned at me. I still felt thoroughly embarrassed and wasn't in the mood for conversation.

As we were sitting there and the rest of the kids were leaving to go get drinks, talk, or whatever they did during their break, I noticed the boy who had been playing the guitar walking right toward Ryan and me. I instinctively wriggled myself as close to Ryan as I possibly could, practically ending up in his lap. The boy was about my height, pretty thin, although he was more built (heck, who wasn't more built than puny little me?) He had longish blond hair that came halfway down to his shoulders, penetrating bright blue eyes, very long eyelashes, and he appeared to be about my age or maybe a little younger.

He was actually stunningly beautiful, which I thought was an odd way to think about a boy, but he was ... beautiful. He wore a pair of tattered blue jeans, a brightly colored tie-dyed shirt, and a leather necklace with a strange kind of charm on the end. It looked like a little net, with small feathers sticking out all around it. I had no idea what it meant. I didn't even realize I was staring at him until he stopped in front of us and spoke.

"Hi, I'm Cody," he said, with a cheerful smile.

I just stared at him blankly.

"Hi, Cody, I'm Ryan, and this," Ryan said pointing to me, "is Connor."

"Hi, Ryan, it's nice to meet you," said the boy, whose name was apparently Cody, sticking out his hand for Ryan to shake. "Does your friend talk?"

Ryan laughed. "Occasionally. He needs to be coaxed sometimes."

I blushed a deep shade of red.

"Hmmm ... well, it's nice to meet you too, Connor," he said, smiling at me and sticking out his hand.

I didn't realize I should return the gesture until Ryan nudged me in the ribs.

"Ummm ... hi ... nice to meet you," I stuttered, smiling wanly, and finally putting out my hand to shake his.

"Ooh, he finally speaks," Cody giggled.

Ryan started laughing, and I shot him my most menacing glare, which probably wasn't more than just a pathetic attempt at a pout.

"I can talk just fine," I said defensively.

"So, Connor, since I play the guitar, and you're obviously a really good keyboard player, I thought maybe we could get together and jam sometime or something," Cody said, looking at me hopefully.

"Sure, he'd love to," Ryan jumped in. I loved it how he kept volunteering me for things ... NOT!

"I don't play keyboards, I play piano," I said testily.

Cody raised an eyebrow, looking a bit perplexed.

"And anyway," I continued, "I don't have a portable keyboard. The only one I could use is here in the band room, and I don't wanna play around a bunch of other people."

I knew that was a lame excuse, since I played in front of large groups of people all the time, but I really didn't want to be hanging out with some stranger, even a really, really cute one. I had Ryan, and that was plenty for me. And I wasn't happy at all with Ryan trying to push something on me that he knew I didn't want to do.

"That's not a problem, dude," Cody said. "I have a keyboard at home. I can play piano a little, too ... but not nearly as well as you. We can jam there, and no one else would be around, except for my mom maybe. But she wouldn't bother us."

"That sounds like a great idea," Ryan chimed in.

I would've smacked him or yelled at him for butting in, but that would've appeared rude in front of Cody, not that I probably wasn't being pretty rude already. But hey, if I hung out with this kid, that would mean even less time I could spend with my Ryan.

I just looked at Cody, who was standing there looking at me expectantly, fiddling with the charm on his necklace. For some reason, that really annoyed me. It was making me even more nervous and uncomfortable than I already was. Again, I'd been backed into a corner, so I didn't really see any alternative.

"Yeah, I guess I can do it," I said. "I'll talk to you next week during rehearsals or something."

"Great! Well, I'm gonna go get a drink and then take a piss before break's finished. I'll catch up with you later, Connor," he said, as he darted out of the band room.

I proceeded to give Ryan the meanest looking scowl I could muster. He just stuck his tongue out at me and tousled my hair. Sometimes I hated the fact that he was so damn cute. I thought briefly about not letting him kiss me for a week, but then realized that that would be more like punishing myself.

The rest of the rehearsal went relatively smoothly, except for when Mr. Johnson got pissed off at the trombone section for missing their cue at one point, whereupon they had the director's baton thrown at them. It would have been funnier if it had actually gone into one of the trombones, but I guess his aim wasn't that good. One of the trumpet players -- who, by the way, I noticed was really kind of hot -- also got a blackboard eraser thrown at him for talking too much. That was actually quite hilarious, because Mr. Johnson's aim was right on the mark that time, and the kid ended up with chalk dust all over his face and clothes.

By the end of the first rehearsal, I had pretty much learned all of the songs. They weren't that difficult, and I was only playing harmonies and a few very brief solos. The only thing I had to get used to was how to switch to the various other keyboard sounds, since some of the pieces required something other than the "traditional piano" setting.


*******************************************************


It was difficult to stay mad at Ryan as we were lying together in bed on Friday night, wearing nothing but our boxers, with him running his fingers gently around my nipples.

"I don't know why you're doing this," I said.

"Because you need to make friends," Ryan replied matter-of-factly.

"I already have friends. You, Toby, and your friends."

"You need to have your own friends. Friends that are just for you, Connor. Plus, he's into the whole music thing like you. You guys probably have a lot in common."

He did have a point, and I did like the idea of being able to talk about music with someone who understood. I guess I was basically worried about two things: first of all, if I did end up being friends with Cody, I might have to let him in on the little secrets in my life, namely how crappy my home life was, and my relationship with Ryan. I wasn't really concerned with the latter as much as the "home" thing. If the subject came up, I didn't think I'd have a problem telling him that I liked guys. But then again, I didn't know if Ryan would want to be outed as well.

"What if the whole 'gay' thing comes up ... would you mind him knowing that we're together?" I asked.

"If he's cool with it, then I wouldn't care at all," he answered.

"And you don't mind the fact that he's really cute?" I asked, trying to get a rise out of Ryan.

He laughed. "So, you think he's cute, huh? Do I have some competition now?"

I leaned over and gave him a peck on the lips. "Never," I said.

"Good. Then you can talk to him next week at school and go hang out with him. I'll even drive you over there and pick you up, or whatever," he said.

"Okay, but things are gonna get busy next week. I have to go back to work, plus two jazz band rehearsals. So I don't know when I'd have the time."

"You could do it on the weekend," Ryan suggested.

"No. That's our time together," I said. I wasn't willing to give that up for anything.

"We'd still have plenty of time together, babe. You'd just have to go over and hang out for a couple hours in the afternoon or something."

"Hmmm ... if you give me a kiss right now, you might be able to persuade me," I said, with a mischievous grin.

"I think I can do better than that," he said, grinning right back at me.

With that, he wrapped me up in his arms and pressed his mouth gently against mine. After exploring his tasty lips for a few minutes, I opened my mouth to let his tongue slide in, as the passion and intensity of our kiss grew. I really loved making out with Ryan. It was incredibly erotic, and it was hard to imagine anything more intense, although I had been thinking about doing more with him for the past few days. Just touching him over his underwear wasn't enough for me any longer, and I was curious to try out more. The only problem was that I wasn't sure if he was ready for that. It had only been a week before when we'd become "boyfriends," and we had talked about waiting and all, but heck, I was fifteen and just discovering that my hormones weren't just for causing embarrassing erections in English class ... basically, I was horny!

Ryan rolled on top of me and his kiss grew more urgent. I was rubbing my hands up and down his back, relishing the feeling of our naked chests pressed together, and his hard cock slowly grinding into mine. At that point, as Ryan was practically sucking my tongue right out of my mouth, I lost any ability for rational thought, and my hormones took over. I needed him. I let my hands slip underneath his boxer-briefs and began to massage his soft, pert butt as he continued his slow, circular grinding motions against my throbbing cock, eliciting several soft whimpers of pleasure from both of us.

Satisfied that he was comfortable with that, I slowly hooked my thumbs into the waist-band of his underwear and began to slowly pull them down. I was afraid that he might stop me, but when I felt his hands starting to pull down my underwear, I realized that he obviously didn't have a problem with it, so I lifted my hips slightly off the bed to help him. We managed to get our underwear off and toss them aside without breaking our kiss, and as he returned to grinding on top of me, the feel of his now completely naked body pressed so closely against mine was driving me wild. Despite how good it felt, though, there was something I wanted even more, something I'd been dreaming about, something I was craving.

Without breaking our passionate lip-lock (or would that be tongue-lock?), I managed to roll Ryan over so that I was on top of him, which happened to be no easy task. Like he had been doing, I started grinding into Ryan, although careful not to get too carried away, lest my fantasy that was currently being played out in real life end too soon. I had read enough stories on the Internet to (hopefully) know what I was doing, and broke our kiss to move my mouth to Ryan's soft neck, licking, kissing, and sucking on it as Ryan squirmed underneath me, whimpering even louder.

I slowly continued kissing and licking my way down to his collar bone and then his chest, pausing only for an instant before I began licking around his right nipple, causing Ryan to shudder involuntarily and let out a gasp. As I moved my mouth back and forth between his nipples, Ryan massaged his hands feverishly over my back and ass, urging me on in my ministrations.

Confident that he was too enraptured with pleasure to reject what I wanted so badly, I began slowly licking a trail from his smooth chest, down his tight stomach, swirling my tongue around his cute "outie" belly button. I was now underneath the covers in total darkness, with only the sensation of Ryan's hands running through my hair and the sound of his moaning. I felt like an explorer on a treasure hunt, and I could sense the heat emanating from my prize getting closer and closer.

I couldn't wait any longer, so I moved down the last few inches to his throbbing cock, gently kissing and licking all around the head and shaft. As I did, Ryan let out a high-pitched yelp, letting me know that he was at least getting as much pleasure from this as I was. I continued to work my way down to his balls, licking the slightly hairy sack while breathing in his intoxicating, musky smell. At that moment, I thought I'd never smelled anything so incredible ... so pure, so boyish.

Even though I couldn't see his cock in the darkness, I could feel its heat, its rhythmic pulse, and as my hand worked my way slowly over it, I could feel each and every vein, its thickness, visualizing how beautiful and perfect it was. Not able to hold off any longer, I dove onto it, careful to keep my teeth covered with my lips, and managed to get about two-thirds of it into my mouth on the first try. As soon as his cock was in my mouth and I began slowly bobbing up and down, Ryan's body shuddered, his moans growing louder. I didn't doubt that Toby could probably hear him from next door, but at that point, I didn't really care. The feeling of having Ryan in my mouth, with him writhing in ecstasy as I sucked him, was without a doubt the most intense experience of my young life.

I continued sucking for all I was worth, with Ryan bucking his hips faster and faster, driving his cock deeper into my mouth. Within a few more seconds, his moans became more urgent, and I suddenly felt his entire body tense as he shot his load into my mouth. I hadn't even considered whether or not I wanted to swallow his cum (I'd never even tasted my own before), but I was sure glad when I did. The taste was slightly salty and bitter, but more importantly than that, as I felt the warm liquid running down my throat, I realized that I now had a part of Ryan inside of me. If it was coming from Ryan (no pun intended!), I would drink gallons of the stuff!

As he lay there panting, I realized that my own cock was about ready to burst just from the excitement of sucking Ryan off. So I moved back up to lay on top of him, sucking gently again on his neck, as I ground myself into his now deflating cock. I knew I couldn't last long, and as he continued moaning softly, I felt a surge of electricity start from my balls and run through my entire body, blasting my own cum onto his chest and stomach, with Ryan moaning again as each shot landed on him.

Feeling totally spent, I collapsed onto Ryan, his arms wrapping around me, holding me tightly. At that moment, I couldn't imagine anything else feeling so perfect, so right. Wrapped tightly in Ryan's warm embrace, a part of him now a part of me, I felt as though nothing in the world could ever hurt me. Without a word being said, and not bothering to clean up or change positions, our breathing finally returning to normal, we both quickly fell asleep.



*****************************************************


Mikey came around again on Saturday morning (apparently Toby had invited him), and instead of staying at the McCormacks' house and hanging around all day, the four of us decided to go out and have some fun. Ryan thought it would be a good idea to invite Cody, which I wasn't thrilled with, because I hadn't decided if I was ready to be friends with him. Fortunately, Ryan had to give up on his plan when he realized that we didn't have Cody's phone number.

I had been meaning to try to pull Mikey aside at school and ask him what was going on between him and Toby, but never got the chance, since I was usually practically super-glued to Ryan's side. Now that we weren't in school, though, I was hoping to get the opportunity. Apparently there was something going on, otherwise Toby wouldn't have invited him to come over, although exactly what that "something" was, I was curious to find out.

Our first stop was the miniature golf place, which I ended up really enjoying. Apparently, I finally found a sport that I was actually good at! I found it hilarious, too, that Ryan and Toby "Mr. Sports" McCormack both sucked. Toby didn't seem to realize that miniature golf required finesse and a little creativity. He just kept whacking at the ball with his club, and by the time we were done for the day, he'd lost more balls in the water hazards and God knows where else than we could count. Ryan just got frustrated too easily and couldn't keep his concentration long enough. So in the end, I actually won! Needless to say, everyone was shocked ... although no one more so than myself.

During the ride to the mall, Toby sulked in the back seat because he lost, and Ryan wouldn't let it drop. The seemingly endless bickering between the two red-headed boy wonders was almost funny enough to make me forget that we were going to the mall (which I hated with a passion), but not quite. The mall was packed, and even more so than a regular Saturday since it was getting so close to Christmas, and there were hordes of people out doing their last minute Christmas shopping.

Ryan noticed the look of apprehension on my face, and squeezed my shoulder to reassure me. It wasn't helping. We walked around the mall aimlessly for a while, looking at clothes in all of the "cool" stores -- none of which I could ever hope to afford -- and just goofing off. Well, Ryan, Toby, and Mikey were goofing off. I just looked around nervously at all of the people buzzing around like little worker bees. We ended up getting gyros for lunch, but there were no empty tables, so we had to eat standing up. Definitely not comfortable.

Finally, Ryan suggested we head over to the Cineplex at the other side of the mall to watch a movie. While they were all debating which of the latest Hollywood blockbusters they wanted to see, I was just happy that we were finally going to be able to sit down, and hopefully I'd get to hold Ryan's hand. As Ryan went to buy the tickets, I noticed that Toby kept goosing Mikey, with Mikey attempting to kick Toby in the shins each time after he did it. There was definitely something going on between those two, I thought to myself.

The teen horror flick we saw was entirely forgettable. After the first few 30-year-old actors who were trying to portray high school kids got slashed to death, I ended up paying more attention to massaging Ryan's hand than watching the movie. I made it a point to look over and see if Toby and Mikey were holding hands, but much to my disappointment, they weren't. Maybe they'd just become really good friends or something. I mean, I had been taking up a lot of Ryan's time lately, so maybe Mikey needed a new friend, and it's not like he didn't already know Toby.

After the movie, we ended up at a sushi restaurant for dinner. That was definitely a new experience for me. Actually, ever since I'd met Ryan, I'd had a lot of new experiences. It took me about fifteen minutes to figure out how to use the damn chopsticks -- with the help of the really cute Japanese bus boy -- but when that obstacle was cleared, it finally dawned on me what I was going to be eating.

"I'm not eating raw fish," I said defiantly.

"Come on, Connor, don't be such a spoilsport. It's good," Ryan assured me, although I wasn't feeling very assured.

"You can order something else, like chicken tempura," Mikey said. "It's just like Japanese chicken fingers."

"No," Ryan cut in, "he's going to try the sushi and sashimi. He'll like it. Trust me."

"But you can get sick from eating raw fish," I protested.

"If you do it, I'll give you an extra special treat tonight," Ryan said, wiggling his eyebrows and licking his lips seductively.

I blushed a deep shade of red.

"So what's Connor's favorite position, Ry?" Toby asked with sly grin. "Does he like to ride it, or does he prefer to take it like a doggie?"

Ryan glared at Toby and promised that there would be retribution later. Toby just smirked.

The sushi actually turned out to be pretty good. I found out that "sushi" was made with rice, and "sashimi" was just the plain raw fish. I decided it was easier to eat with the rice. I asked Mikey why he wasn't eating any sushi.

"I don't eat fish," he replied matter-of-factly.

Everyone started laughing, except for me. I didn't get it.

When we got home, we all went up to Ryan's room to watch a DVD. Toby bought one at the mall called Trick, so we decided to watch that. Ryan and I cuddled up together, and I looked to see if Toby and Mikey would do the same. But they didn't. Damn! I thought.

The movie ended up being really good. It was about two cute, young gay guys who met by chance at a gay club and spent the entire night trying to find somewhere to be alone so they could hook up, but they could never find a place. By the end of the movie, they realized that although they'd originally planned on just a one-night fling, they had ended up really liking each other. I thought it was really sweet.

What I liked even better, though, was the song that played during the credits, a beautiful love song that featured the piano, "Trick of Fate" by Valerie Pinkston. The lyrics made me think about how Ryan and I met up ... it was just that ... a trick of fate. I made them replay the credits three times so I could learn the song. I definitely wanted to play that one.

By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, I realized that Mikey was still there. My curiosity was definitely piqued again. He couldn't drive yet, and I doubted his parents would be coming over that late to pick him up.

"So ... ummm ... Ryan, is it okay if I crash here tonight? I'll just bunk with Toby, if that's alright," Mikey asked, sounding a bit nervous.

Ryan glanced at me, arching an eyebrow, and I just shrugged.

"Sure, bud, no problem," Ryan said.

I was actually a little disappointed, because I figured we couldn't get too carried away with Mikey in the other room. Toby hearing us was one thing, but I still didn't know Mikey all that well. I thought to myself that I wouldn't mind watching Mikey and Toby, though, if that was what they were going to be doing. Maybe that made me a pervert ... but they both were hot! And as much as I tried to deny it to myself, there was still a definite attraction to Toby, on several levels, despite him letting his more crude and immature side show off more often over the past couple of weeks.

As Ryan and I stripped off our clothes to get into bed (we'd decided there was no need for underwear anymore, and it felt really good to sleep naked next to Ryan!), I noticed how beautiful he was. It had been dark the night before when we made love for the first time, so I didn't get the chance to really look at him and appreciate his body, at least not the lower half. His cock was just as I had visualized it in my mind, thick and beautiful, with a large mushroom head. Even though his chest was smooth, he was quite hairy below the waist. The same reddish-brown-colored hair that was on his head not only covered the base of his cock and large balls, but ran all along his inner thighs as well. I felt so puny and immature standing naked in front of him.

After we stood there looking each other over for a few seconds, Ryan walked over and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in closely to him and  bringing his mouth next to my ear. As I felt his warm breath tickling me, I instantly grew hard.

"You're so beautiful, Connor," he whispered huskily.

"No, I'm not," I retorted. "I'm scrawny, my penis is small, and I look like a little kid."

"That's not true, babe," he cooed softly into my ear. "Sure, you could put on some weight, but you're still beautiful ... to me. And your penis is not too small. It's perfect on you. I think it's beautiful, and I can't wait to return the favor from last night."

Damn, that boy knew exactly what to say. Not only did his words make my heart melt, but the thought of him putting my cock in his mouth was enough in itself to nearly make me explode all over the floor. Ryan took me by the hand and led me to the bed, turning off the light, and crawling in with me. We immediately became a tangle of arms and legs, lips and tongues swirling around together in a passionate dance, hands touching and rubbing all over each other. And he did return the favor (twice), and after my practically pleading with him, he beat off on my face. I don't know what made me want him to do that. In hindsight, the thought of it was kind of weird. But at that moment, in the heat of our passion, that's what I wanted. I was curious, so shoot me!

As we lay there quietly in the afterglow, a little surprised that all that love-making only took about thirty minutes (I guess it's true what they say about teenage boys), I thought I heard something. Ryan must have heard it too, because he put his ear up against the wall to listen. Eventually, I realized what it was -- the sound of the bed in Toby's room squeaking, and a series of soft, yet high-pitched moans and squeals. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought it was a girl in there with Toby. The sound of the bed moving and the moaning began to grow louder and more intense. I looked over at Ryan, and in the glow of the moonlight streaming in from the window, I could see a devilish smile on his face. And before I knew it, he was getting his payback.

"Ooooh ... Mikey ... baby, FUCK me ... God, you're sooo big ... harder, please ... do it to me ... oh SHIT! FUCK MEEEEE! Uuuunnngggggh!" Ryan squealed.

As we both broke down in a fit of giggles, we suddenly heard Maggie's voice booming through the walls.

"Tobias McCormack, you'd better be using protection in there!"

HA! I couldn't believe she said that! And as soon as she did, there was dead silence. I couldn't possibly imagine how absolutely mortified they must have been at that moment. Ryan and I just kept laughing until we were finally too worn out and collapsed back down onto the bed. As our breathing returned to normal, Ryan snuggled up behind me, and after he planted a few soft kisses to the back of my neck, and with me enjoying the feeling of his cock nestled snuggly in my butt crack, we settled down to go to sleep.


*****************************************************


"Hardy-har-har," Toby laughed sarcastically as Ryan and I walked into the kitchen on Sunday morning. Toby was sitting by himself at the table, reading the Sunday comics and drinking a cup of coffee.

"So where's loverboy?" Ryan asked, smirking.

"Thanks to you, asswipe, he probably won't be coming around for a while," Toby replied, obviously extremely irritated with his brother.

I suddenly started to feel bad. I did think that Toby deserved to be embarrassed, but not Mikey. He hadn't teased Ryan and me at all. As I looked over at Ryan, I saw a guilty look on his face. After all, Mikey was his best friend.

"I ... I'm sorry, bro," Ryan said.

"Maybe you should tell that to your so-called best friend," Toby shot back at him. "He left in the middle of the night, right after you did that. He was too embarrassed to stick around and have to see mom in the morning."

OUCH! This was turning into a major fuck-up. I hadn't exactly done the deed, but I sure thought it was hilarious at the time, and I didn't try to stop Ryan from doing it either. On the other hand, Toby had done the same thing to Ryan and me, but then he'd gotten into trouble for it, and we hadn't been doing anything at the time. Not that I hadn't been embarrassed, but still ... and this time, Toby got blamed for it, too. I guess that just went to show that two wrongs really don't make a right.

"So is there something going on between you and Mikey again?" Ryan asked.

"What do you mean again?" Toby retorted, eyeing Ryan suspiciously.

"I knew you guys were fooling around a couple years ago," Ryan said, looking quite uncomfortable. I felt uncomfortable, too. I felt bad for Ryan, Toby, and especially Mikey ... someone whom I had hated for no good reason when I first met him, and who even tried to help me when Ryan wasn't speaking to me.

"How did you know?" Toby asked.

"Ummm ... well ... Mikey's not exactly very ... uhhh ... quiet," Ryan replied sheepishly.

Toby grinned slyly. "Yeah, he does make a lot of noise when he's getting fucked. That boy is a total bottom."

"So are you two together now or something?" I jumped in.

Toby looked over at me, the brief smile suddenly gone from his face. "I don't think so. We hadn't done anything for a couple of years, and then last week when he came over we were both just kinda hard up, I guess. But this weekend ... I dunno ... maybe I was starting to feel something else. But it's too late now anyway."

DAMN!!!

"For what it's worth, Toby, I'm really sorry," I said, hoping that he'd notice the sincerity in my eyes. I really did care about Toby, maybe just as much as I did about Ryan. Just in a different way.

He gave me a weak smile. "Thanks, Connor. It's okay. I'm probably too young to have a boyfriend anyway."

With that, Toby got up and walked out of the room. Ryan and I both looked at each other, looks of guilt plastered all over our faces.





Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved. No parts of this story may be copied, reproduced, in print or in any other format, without express written consent from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.


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