Stories of an Old Boy
Written By: XPud xpud@yahoo.com © 2016-2017

I had a weird dream again Thursday night, and by 'weird' I mean 'not just a memory'; I dreamed of multiple points in my life's iterations, but in each one, either my husband, a child, or a best friend were all replaced by Matty at his current age. As dreams often go, everyone was completely accepting of this, each person treating him as they would've treated the person he replaced. I haven't quite figured out if there's a meaning there, but I'm more interested in why my dreams are changing. I suppose I'll just have to have more and see if I can come up with a pattern. I mean, I could go to one of those dream-interpreting psychic past-lives kinda people, but I'm afraid I might break their brain.

So Friday is relatively uneventful as far as school itself goes: no sex behind the curtains, no making bullies piss themselves, no fights, thankfully no almost-murders, and especially no problems with Matty. It's almost weird to me when a day is this boring. I guess that speaks volumes about my life. Oh, and our girls' volleyball team failed miserably, in case that's important.

A few interesting things do happen, though. For one, someone in my Study Hall manages to cut themselves with scissors well enough to leave a trail of blood across the classroom, and decides either that he's too manly, or too afraid, to tell the teacher. Finally, one of the girls raises her hand and says, "Someone's bleeding," at which point the teacher freaks out and everyone starts talking because seventh graders have all the restraint and attention span of a caffeinated chihuahua. (He's fine, by the way, minus that particular chunk of skin, anyway.)

Gym class brings with it a few nice bonuses. I arrive in the locker room a bit earlier than normal, where Rod is already dressing out (I don't know his schedule, but I'm guessing his previous class is close by). He takes a quick glance to see that it's me; his eyes widen reflexively, followed by him studiously ignoring my very presence as he finishes putting on his gym clothes. As the flood of other boys comes in, Rod stays quiet and to himself on the wall near the restrooms, since he has the last top locker next to the bathroom entrance.

So Beto and Matty are talking as they come into the locker room, and I almost laugh aloud as I feel my blood boil. I literally had sex with both of them yesterday (separately, of course), and yet my jealousy flares as I watch them talking together. After I quiet it down, though, I get a chance to enjoy how goofy it looks to watch short little Matty and lanky beanpole Beto talking to each other. It's really rather adorable.

The conversation breaks off quickly, though, as Gym class is always one of the moments that Matty really needs to pee. Granted, he's not drinking quite as much, leaving him not as panicked to get to the restroom, but he's still power-walking over to unleash hell upon an undeserving porcelain victim. He walks by Rod and meets his gaze for a tense moment; quickly, though, Rod backs his way entirely into the restroom just to get out of the way for Matty. I don't get to see Matty's response, but from my vantage, I can see the most confused look on Beto's face. Now, I'm not going to count that in the good deeds he's supposed to do, but it still looks favorably on him.

Diego, of course, has found his way to the locker room as well; however, he dresses out in the corner of the locker room as quickly as possible and practically darts out into the gymnasium, avoiding any possibility of even looking at us. I feel simultaneously powerful, triumphant, ashamed, and sorry as I watch him and Rod exit the locker room silently and separately.

"You coming?" Matty asks me.

I shake out of my emotional reverie and focus on his gorgeous sky-blues. "Yeah, sorry. Was thinking."

Matty cocks his head almost imperceptibly to the side. "Is everything okay?" he asks tentatively.

"Yeah, I'm good," I say, standing up. "Let's go." He gives me a tiny smile, the kind that hides a much larger emotion, and I realize it's probably in response to my own smile at his concern and how goddamn cute he is. I know, I know, I'll stop gushing, but seriously.

Gym class goes well: lots of basketball today, so lots of junk flopping around in skimpy shorts, and one or two at least semi-boners just from the stimulation alone, which is always a treat. Also, lunch is full of excited chatter about tomorrow's festivities and what we're going to do. Other than that, though, school is quiet and soon over, and I head out to my bike and wait for Rod's report.

Rodrigo shows up a few minutes later with a look on his face like he's screwed up royally by being late. I'm not going to 'punish' him or anything about it--I'm not feeling vindictive or authoritarian--but I raise an eyebrow in disappointment as he approaches.

"Hey, Phillip," Rod says with his hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Good afternoon," I say, intentionally a bit formal in my address.

After a short, awkward pause, Rod stammers, "So, I did a good thing today. I, uh, I held the door for my class on the way to the library today. ...Does that count?"

"Depends," I say, shrugging slightly. "Did you expect thanks from anyone?"

He furrows his brow at the question. "No?" he says, confused. "I just did it. A couple of people actually gave me weird looks as they walked by." He gets a nervous but authentic little smile at the admission.

"Well then, yes. It counts. Thank you for doing something good today, and for not doing anything mean. You...didn't do anything mean, did you?"

"No!" he says quickly. lowering his voice a little, he continues, "I made sure to, y'know, get out of Matty's way, like you saw, and-and I didn't mess with anyone! I swear!"

"Then you've done very well so far." I nod solemnly. "You should go catch your bus before it leaves."

"I ride my bike," he says slowly. "Hey, uh, Phillip...can I ask you a question?" He quickly adds, "If-if that's okay, I don't wanna be rude or anything, and--"

I interrupt, "Sure. What's up?"

He takes a breath and centers his thoughts. "Why? Why are you making me do this?"

I raise the eyebrow, and he flinches visibly. I answer in a low voice, "Because you've spent so much time fucking with other people that I don't think you know how to be a decent human being. I'm just teaching you how."

"Yeah, but--" he says, hesitating, "--but you coulda just beat the shit out of me, or made my life total shit, or got me expelled, or anything...but why this?"

"It sounds like this is making you particularly uncomfortable. If so, then consider that your punishment. But none of the other options would teach you anything; you'd just be mad at me for beating you up, or angrier every day I tortured you, or just be a bully somewhere else. This way, I know you're getting practice at being nice for a change."

"I don't get you. You're fucking weird." He shakes his head, completely baffled.

"I'm well aware of that," I say, unchaining my bike from the rack and hopping on it. "I'll see you next week."

"Wait," Rod says hastily.

"Yeah?"

Rod stares at me like he's trying to see into my skull through my eyes. "How did you know all that stuff?"

I contemplate telling the truth, but enigmas are much more powerful. "Maybe next week, if you keep up the good deeds." I ride off, Rod watching me silently the entire time I'm in sight.

The rest of Friday passes in eternal darkness, for without my phone, I am lost.

Angsty drama aside, though, Saturday arrives, and with it the anticipation of a fantastic day. Mom drops me off early, but very shortly, as Matty and I are talking in the kitchen, we hear his mom open the door to Zacky saying, "Sissy, come on! I can walk myself! It's embarrassing!" Shortly afterward, the entire crew comes waltzing in: the twins, Zacky, and Suzie--my guess is that they showed up in the same car, since they live so close to each other.

Suzie greets Matty's mom and says to her (but aimed at Zacky), "I'm just here to make sure Zacky knows when we're coming to pick him up, and I also have something I need to give to, um, someone." That moment, she scans the area and locks eyes with me. "Hey, Phillip!" she says, beelining to me. "I have to go, but one of my friends said to give this to you, and I knew you were gonna be here, so...here." Without waiting for a reply, she nearly shoves a piece of paper into my hand and whirls around without even a glance. She struts out of the kitchen and to the front door out of sight. "Bye! Remember, Zacky, I'll be picking you up at 8:30!"

Zacky sighs heavily. "I knoooowwwwww," he whines as the door shuts.

Matty starts to ask me what she handed me, but the twins immediately take up his attention. I take the momentary chaos to unfold the paper and take a look. Inside is a hastily-scribbled "Call me" and a phone number. I crumple it up and laugh as I put it in my pocket--there are so many reasons this gambit of hers is doomed to fail, the least of which is that I don't have a phone right now. Poor girl.

"What's funny?" Matty asks.

"Oh, apparently someone she knows likes me." I shake my head. "Whatever. Hey, who else is coming over?"

"Yeah," Kasha adds, "who else said they coming?"

Matty pulls out his phone. "Lemme see, so Corey said he couldn't make it, Kyle has the camping thing, and Sean said he'd be late, so he's going to meet us at the theater."

"So we're all here, then," I point out. "The movie isn't for a few hours, though, right?"

Mrs. Petersen chimes in, "We'll need to leave in about 45 minutes or so; I figure we can grab a bite to eat somewhere first, and then still have time to get tickets and maybe some popcorn or candy. You boys go entertain yourselves for a bit."

And with that, a chattering ball of boys goes bounding down the hall to Matty's room. Matty mentioned over group text that he was planning a sleepover, so the twins drop their sleeping bags off in the room and hop on the bed. We talk about school, about games, about Choir (I don't have much to say there, but they go on for a while about this one song they're doing--apparently the twins have some duet on it), and other things. Matty actually goes over and sits on a piano stool in front of a new piece of equipment in his room: a 5-octave keyboard complete with stand and foot pedal.

"Whoa!" I exclaim. "Was that a birthday gift?"

Matty smiles, a gleam of excitement in his eye. "No, this was at Daddy--my dad's place, and I, uh, when..."

I help him finish the fib: "Ah, so you brought it back here to, what, practice more? I didn't know you played piano."

"Well, I used to." He turns it on, pushes a few buttons and twists a few knobs as though he were a mad scientist calibrating his newest monstrosity, and starts playing "Toccata and Fugue in d minor" in a creepy church pipe organ instrument (that song is basically the classical equivalent of "Evil Bad Guy" theme music). To my surprise, he's actually quite good. Not that Matty can't be good at something, mind you, but having never seen him play, I find myself enraptured by his control of the keyboard.

Eventually, right at the height of tension in the song, just before it hits the last major section, he pauses. "Um, I forgot the rest," he says with a sheepish smile.

"Matty!" I nearly shout. "That was awesome! When did you--where--why didn't you ever tell me you could play like that?!"

He shrugs it away like it's nothing. "I dunno. I just never had the keyboard around, so I didn't think about it."

"Man, now I need to go buy some sheet music so I can get you to sign your autograph."

Matty rolls his eyes and groans, "Ugh, I'm not that good."

Vik and Kasha both talk over each other trying to convince Matty that he is, in fact, that good, while Zacky goes on about how awesome the song was. I just watch, seeing Matty in a whole new perspective; I mean, I know I've only known him for--what, a month now?--but this wasn't on the list of things I would've expected about him. You know, a millennium of subjective time seems less and less the eternity I thought it was; anyone else would expect a person as 'old' as me to know everything, but all I know is more and more of how little I really do know.

"Um, I'll...be right back," Matty stammers. "I need to...do something real quick." He heads to his dresser and opens a drawer, grabs something very quickly, hugs it to himself, and quickly heads to the bathroom. He didn't pee himself or anything, I don't think, so--oh. Right. We're going to go watch the movie soon, so he's getting a diaper. Hmm...idea.

"Where did Matty go?" asks Kasha.

"Oh, he's just putting on his Movie-Wear. I think I'll join him once he gets back."

"What is Movie-Wear?"

"Oh, so you know how movies are getting longer and longer, right? Well, people are tired of getting up in the middle of the movie and missing the important part, so instead of underwear, they put on Movie-Wear, so they don't have to get up."

Vik catches on immediately and gets this look, the kind of look that goes best with a facepalm slowly sliding down the face. Kasha continues, "So it helps them not have to go, or what?"

"Kasha," Vik says. "It's a diaper."

Kasha and Zacky both simultaneously let out a long, "Ohhhhhhh."

Matty comes back in with a telltale bulge in his baggy cargo shorts, though it's not crazy noticeable unless you know how much he's packing normally. It basically looks like maybe he pulled an Edgar and grew his 'third leg' before hitting a growth spurt. It's kinda hot, for multiple reasons.

He walks over and sits on the bed with his hands over his crotch area as nonchalantly as possible. While Zacky and the twins are talking about the idea of Movie-Wear, I go over to his dresser and confidently ask, "Hey Matty, can I use one of your Movie-Wears? I don't want to have to get up in the middle." Before he even gets a chance to respond, I'm opening the drawer with the diapers in it.

"What do you mean--hey! What are you doing?!" Matty asks, hopping up quickly to stop me.

"Oh, I was gonna join you, so I can watch the whole movie. I hear that 'Lone Wolf: Alpha vs. Gamma' is one of the longest movies in the whole series. It's gonna be awesome, though: I bet The Ionizer is gonna get his ass kicked." I don't actually know much about it, other than what the previews have said and what I've heard about it (now and in previous iterations), but still. As I'm prattling on, I grab a diaper and head to the door. "I'll be right back."

Matty moves to stop me, but Kasha says, "You know, that IS a good idea...I hate getting up and missing the movie."

"You aren't going to wear one, are you?" Vik asks in a deadpan voice.

"Well, if Matty is, and Phillip is, and Zacky...well, you know. I mean, why not?"

"What's going on?" Zacky asks, oblivious. He's just adorable, but a little air-headed sometimes.

"Well, I guess if everyone's doing it, I'll just change right here." With that, I unbutton my jeans, step out of those and my briefs, and slip on one of Matty's diapers, a white pull-on variety that honestly isn't meant to take a full bladder all at once, but it definitely offers more than minimal protection. I pull my pants up over it, noticing that a) I'm already getting hard, dammit, and b) Zacky can't help but stare directly at me and my diaper as I button my pants over it. Thankfully, my jeans are already a little bit baggy; Mom bought me new ones this year before school in hopes that I'd hit a growth spurt and grow into them. She's not wrong, but it's not really until about February that I start growing quickly--not that she could've known that, but still.

Vik seems taken aback for some reason, even though I've literally had his dick in my mouth before. Maybe it's the diaper, though he already knows that Zacky wears one. Matty, though, is a step from freaking the fuck out. I can see the embarrassment fighting the confusion, with a healthy dose of anger and indignation in there to spice up the mix. I look him meaningfully in the eyes and say, "Good idea, Matty. I bet these are awesome for road trips, too. They're actually pretty comfy," I add, patting my package for emphasis. Rolling my eyes, I admit, "Of course, it'd help if I didn't have an awkward boner from Hell right now."

Kasha points at me and says, "I HATE that! That just started happening to me in class! Why is it always in math? You get called to go to board, you get boner, everybody points and laughs. Ugh."

"Funny," I respond, "I always found math pretty sexy: add the people, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and start multiplying." I pelvic-thrust a few times. Everybody laughs, except Matty, who has been completely unable to form a response to all of this; Zacky only starts laughing after everyone else does, and only half-heartedly so.

Kasha asks for a 'Movie-Wear' as well, and I toss it to him; as he's putting it on, Vik stares at him like he's an alien, and Matty stares at me like I've created a giant monster in his room. I just wink at him and say, "Thanks to Matty, Kasha and I don't have to miss any part of the movie! Vik, you sure you don't--?" I intentionally leave Zacky out of the comment, but Vik interrupts me, regardless.

"NO," he says firmly. "I'm not wearing a diaper." I see Zacky flinch unconsciously as Vik emphatically pooh-poohs the idea, pun fully intended.

"Nobody is making you," I remind him, "but maybe be a little more, um, sensitive about the subject, eh? It's not like it's hurting you or anything."

He answers by walking out of the room, saying, "I'll be in the kitchen."

I look at Kasha with concern and inquisitiveness in my gaze. He shrugs and says, "Sometimes I think Vik wants to be 30. I like to be 12."

"Me too," I reply with more honesty than he could imagine. Matty gives me that look; you know which one. "Well, boys," I announce, "I think I'm ready to go. To the movies, I mean."

"Me too!" Kasha says excitedly. I notice that Kasha's jeans are maybe a bit tighter than he realizes, and it's more than a little obvious that he's got padding on underneath it; he's oblivious to it, though, so I just let it be.

Kasha and Zacky head out to the kitchen, but as I'm leaving, Matty puts a hand on my arm. "Hey," he says quietly.

"What's up?"

"I see what you're doing." He stares intently at me.

"I won't deny my motives," I admit.

He breaks eye contact and takes a deep breath. "Thanks. Mom talked to me about the diaper thing, and...just...thank you."

"This is 90% for you, Matty. I want you to feel comfortable, not embarrassed. 10% is because I wanted to wear a diaper, but most of it is definitely for you."

This catches Matty off-guard, eliciting that innocent giggle I crave. He stands up and shakes his head, but doesn't say anything else, instead just walking out into the kitchen.

The boys are all sitting around the table, talking about school and such as we join them. Vik seems okay by this point, and nobody mentions anything, so by the time Mrs. Petersen announces that it's time to go, we're all a bundle of happy kids again.

We hit up a McDonald's on the way there. The twins order the same meal (surprise!), a double cheeseburger combo (no, the irony does not escape me). Matty gets the Filet-o-Fish, and I get a good ol' quarter-pounder. When Zacky orders his cheeseburger meal, the cashier actually asks if he wants a Happy Meal. He does pull off 'tall 7-year-old' pretty well, all things considered. He, of course, answers "yes," and when the food arrives, everyone is jealous that he has a surfing SpongeBob action figure and they don't.

I actually need to pee, but I don't want to use my diaper until I'm stuck in a theater with a gigantic cup of Dr Pepper, so I head to the restroom. I walk into the stall (mostly just don't feel like explaining my diaper to everyone who walks by), and before I can even unbutton my pants, a man's hand blocks the door from closing. In a flash, a man with long, greasy black hair and a few days' beard growth whips into the stall with me and slams it shut, blocking my exit. "Say a word and I'll cut your throat out," he hisses at me with the breath of a decaying corpse and a double-bladed knife in his hand.

Okay, first off, how did this guy get in here without raising suspicion?; second, Jesus CHRIST his breath is fetid; and third, really? This motherfucker is trying to rape kids in a McDonald's restroom? Hm. On one hand, this guy deserves the riot act, and death would be too kind; on the other hand, I really don't want to draw attention to myself, and frankly, if I did, we might miss the movie. After all, I've been the hero enough times, even in this life; I don't need the attention. Also, I actually haven't seen this movie in any of my other lives, so I'm kind of interested in it. Sure, I know how it ends because nobody can resist a spoiler, but I haven't actually seen it, and I'm fairly spoiler-resistant after having time-traveled enough.

Right, sidetracked. Anyway, I act the frightened child as he holds his wavering knife near my throat. His shaking gives away that he either is on heavy drugs, low blood sugar, or is nervous as fuck about what he's doing. Maybe some combo thereof. He grabs his pants, nearly ripping the button off of them, and shoves them off one-handed, leaving him in only a ratty Ozzy Osbourne tour shirt barely covering the base of a rapidly-growing erection of I'd guess 8 inches when fully hard. For such a dickless chump, he comes ironically well-equipped, complete with nasty, saggy balls and everything.

"Turn around!" he whispers fiercely, using his knife to gesture. "Take your pants off!" As I do so, he happens to notice that I was wearing a diaper. "The fuck, you some kind of baby?"

Oh no, I'm not putting up with this schmuck. "I dunno, you some kind of baby-fucker?"

"Wha--Shut the fuck up!" I could tell his concentration was broken by that statement; he's struggling to maintain the veneer of power and control. It does the trick, though, and he ignores the diaper. He shoves me in the back to where I have to grip the toilet bowl to steady myself, and I count the seconds until his dick touches my hole. "This'll hurt less if you breathe," he says with his most sinister voice.

After a couple of rewinds to get the timing right on my next stunt (though he never makes it in my hole--that's just gross, and I don't really want some needle-sharing STD-hive in me at ANY point, rewind or not), I respond, "It'd take less time if you'd shut up and shove it in already."

The sheer audacity of the comment makes him sputter in confusion just long enough for me to whirl around to the hand holding the knife near my ear and bite hard on the wrist, grabbing the knife as his fingers lose their grip. I spin underneath him and grab his sagging sack tightly with my other hand, putting the dagger right up to them. "Move even a single muscle and I'll make sure you never want to fuck another little boy again."

He understandably freezes, bracing himself with his bitten wrist on the handicap bar on the wall; the movement signals the infrared to flush, making an awkward moment. "Stand up, and put your hands high." He hesitates. "Say goodbye to your pair of fuzzy dice, then--"

"No no no!" he says as his erection rapidly subsides. He throws his hands up and begins shaking all over.

I keep my firm grip on his nuts, squeezing just enough that I know it's very uncomfortable, and drag him to the side of the toilet, where his feet can't be seen under the door. I sit down on the toilet and look up at him, still threatening a quick castration. "All right. I almost killed someone just a few days ago, and I'd have felt terrible about it. He's a good kid, or at least is trying to be. You? I don't think I'd feel a thing if you bled to death through your scrotum. And you know what? The world wouldn't miss you, either."

"I, I, I have to--" he says, and I see his dick begin to leak. Geez, does everyone piss themselves in fear around me? Am I really that--I put the thought aside as I quickly stand up, guiding him by the balls to where he can drain himself in the toilet. It's not much, but at least it wasn't on me. I like piss, but from this sack of shit? No thanks. I have standards--I don't want my skin or clothes to test positive for heroin.

"You done pissing yourself? Good. Hey, if you need, it turns out I have a diaper you could use, if you think you're gonna piss yourself again. No? Good. Now, you child-raping cum stain, gimme one good reason you deserve to keep these." I tug on his balls hard enough to get a loud, stifled grunt from him.

"No, God no, please, I'm sorry, don't--oh God please--"

"Those aren't reasons. If I lose my patience, you lose your manhood."

"PLEASE! I promise I'll never--"

It's at this point that I rewind again, since one of the boys is about to walk in and see what's taking me so long. "SHH!" I say, silencing him and yanking him out of view again.

The door opens, and I hear one of the twins say, "Phillip?"

"Almost done, sorry, just...had a hard time peeing at first." I grunt once and say, "Be right out."

"Okay, we will be at the van." The door closes.

The man whispers pitifully, "Please let me go. I--I'll never do it again, I promise." Heavy tears drip off his face and splatter on the floor near his feet.

Judge me how you will, but I've met this kind of shitbag before; if this is his first time, or even second, he can still change; he'll just need a visible, painful reminder. I take the knife and press hard across his scrotum, slowly dragging the knife until I see blood. He gasps and starts whimpering, "No no no no no..."

I don't even cut far, just enough that it's worse than a shaving knick, enough to leave a visible scar when it heals. "If you ever--EVER--get the urge to take advantage of someone again, look down at this scar, and remember that you still have everything underneath it attached. If I even hear a story on the news about a rapist, I will come find you and finish the job. Slowly." I stand up. "Stand against the back wall over there."

He does so quickly, a thin trail of blood trickling down his balls. I sit back on the toilet so that I can watch the douche while I piss--finally, I get to do what I came here for.

As I'm peeing, he whimpers, "What ARE you?!"

I point the blade at him irritably and say, "Dude, I'm takin' a piss. Gimme a sec."

His eyes threaten to fall out of socket seeing some ostensibly 12-year-old boy dominating him so thoroughly. When I'm done, I awkwardly wiggle my way back into my diaper and pants, and say, "Maybe I'm what the world brings into being when it spawns too many festering, doped-up pincushions like you. Maybe I'm back from the dead to get revenge; maybe I'm an angel from Heaven, here to guard innocent lives from rapist shit-smears. It doesn't matter what I am. I'm not what you expected, but I *am* what you can expect if you ever even think about hurting someone again. You want to test it? You think I won't find you? You wanna know how wrong you can be?" Each question I ask, I take a short step closer with the knife pointed at him. "Now. I'm leaving, and I'm keeping the knife. You're going to wait a full minute after I leave, and you're going to exit the far door, opposite the playpen so you're not...tempted." As I exit the stall, he stares at me like I'm the revenant of all of his sins made manifest. I take a paper towel and wipe his infected blood off of the knife--nobody deserves to end up with whatever he might have. Throwing the towel away, I turn just as I'm leaving and say with an obsequious smile, "Make good choices," and let the door close behind me.

Outside, I take a deep breath; it's still stressful to maintain that sort of facade for any period of time--I'm not a natural killer. I head to the counter and tell the cashier, "Um, I found this in the bathroom..."

The woman behind the counter immediately recoils and screams involuntarily. She calls for the manager and I leave, seemingly oblivious of the implications of what is essentially a short sword in the restrooms.

I reach the van and get in on the driver's side, saying, "Super sorry--sometimes I have trouble starting to pee. You know, like being pee-shy. It's really annoying." ViKasha both nod simultaneously in agreement. From here, it's a relatively short drive to the move theater, for which Matty's mom already purchased the tickets online--smart woman. We skip the line, head inside, and all the other boys go to get rid of their first soda's worth in the restroom. Zacky, unused to caring about going to the bathroom, heads off instead to the arcades to check out the selection. I take a moment to people-watch, one of my favorite activities; I like to try to figure out what people are thinking, possibly even what kind of person they are, just from watching them. Call me creepy, but you find all kinds of ways to entertain yourself, given an unlimited amount of time to do so.

Among the throngs of moviegoers, I spot a fairly tall, lanky boy with highlighted brown hair in a cute, tousled style leaning up against one of the pillars that help separate the arcade/restaurant area from the main lobby. He's scanning the area, I assume waiting for someone, though how he'd find that person in the milling crowd would be a feat unto itself. He seems pretty chill with one hand tucked into his baggy jeans pocket and the other casually draped across his midsection, holding his other arm at the elbow. He's wearing a dark green t-shirt with the emblem from the Legend of Zelda on the front, but his loosely-tied white sneakers are, unlike the rest of his thrown-together appeal, surprisingly white and well-kept. He reaches up to wipe something out of his eye, moving his rimless glasses out of the way in the process; nothing he does seems to be in any hurry.

"Who are you looking at?" Matty asks me, nearly making my heart jump out of my throat. I jump visibly but manage not to yell out. "Oh, sorry!" Matty says, giggling. "I didn't mean to scare you!"

"No no, it's fine," I say, laughing along with him. "I was--"

"Oh!" he says before I get a chance to finish. "Hey! Sean! Over here!" Matty calls out, waving wildly at the very boy I was mentally dissecting.

The boy looks over casually, and a warm grin stretches across his cheeks. "Hey, Matty!" he calls out in a soft tenor voice, picking up a light blue backpack next to him on the floor before pushing off the pillar and making his way over.

At this point, the twins make it back as well, greeting Sean cheerfully. We have a good chunk of time before the movie, so before we get too comfy in the snack lines, Sean goes with Mrs. Petersen to put up his backpack in the van. I busy myself remembering all the movies that are playing by this time; it hasn't been for a few iterations that I cared to see the movies, seeing as most of them are reruns to me. When they get back, though, we all head over to the concession line. On our way, Kasha says, "Phillip, Zacky, this is Sean Parker. He's in 8th grade. He plays cello in the orchestra, but he's also awesome at the piano!"

Sean smiles and rolls his eyes at the compliment. "I'm not that great. I still need to practice a lot more."

Matty interjects, "Come on, you're way better than any of us. I can, like, barely read music, and you just put it on the piano and play it."

We get to the absurdly--but not extraordinarily--long line for snacks. Sean responds, "There's more to it than just reading music. Besides, most of those pieces? I've already looked at them and know them decently."

"Yeah," Vik chimes in, "but you took the song we're singing in choir and played our part AND the piano part the first time you saw it."

Sean shrugs. "I mean, I guess. Anyway, it's nice to meet you two." He holds out his hand; his handshake is soft and gentle, just enough pressure to register as actually grabbing my hand. He shakes Zacky's hand as well, smiling the sort of smile at us that you might expect from a lover gazing sweetly at the object of their adoration. Not that I think he's in love with either of us or anything--I think he just has that sort of effect naturally. It's kinda hot. No wonder Matty wanted to invite him over. I swear to God, though, if he touches Mat--dammit, Phillip, stop that, you're being jealous again, and you know there's no reason for that. Matty is allowed to have friends, he just--

"What about you?" Mrs. Petersen asks.

"Uh, what?" I ask stupidly.

"Did you want a snack or anything?"

"Oh!" I hadn't even noticed that we'd moved up in the line. Good old auto-pilot. "Um, I'll share some Milk Duds with someone, if y'all want. Or just popcorn. Oh! And a large Dr Pepper. Matty, you wanna share a drink? I'm not gonna be able to finish the whole thing, but it's literally a quarter more for like double the size."

Matty hesitates a moment, and I can see the dilemma on his face: 'Am I going to look weird sharing a drink? Will they suspect anything?' But then, he quickly changes expression and says, "Sure. I like Dr Pepper."

Huh. I can honestly say I didn't expect that. "Oh, uh, cool. That's all I want, then. Oh--I can pay for my own. I brought cash."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Petersen says dismissively. "This is Matty's birthday party." She pays for the snacks and such, and we head with our provisions into the theater. This particular theater is set up where there are four rows that are neck-breakingly close, and then there's a walkway, a few steps up, and then the main chunk of seats, separated off from the walkway by a handrail. Despite Mrs. Petersen's objections, we convince her to let us sit in the row behind the handrail, if only because 1) we won't be hitting anyone's seat in front of us, and 2) free foot rest! She actually elects to sit a few rows up from us, where she can keep an eye if she needs to, but doesn't have to be all up in our business. (I suspect she doesn't care about the movie, but also doesn't want to hear a bunch of kids talking and whispering the entire time.)

We filter into the row, and are surprisingly early enough to get dead-middle seats. Sean is on the far right, followed by Vik, Kasha, Matty, me, and finally Zacky on the left. After that, the theater fills up pretty quickly; we all chat and mess with our phones (excluding me, dammit, and Zacky) until the commercials are done and the theater plays the "Please Silence Your Cellphones" business on-screen.

I take a glance over at Matty, who is taking a slurp of the Dr Pepper; he catches me looking at him and wordlessly gives me a heart-melting little smile. I say quietly, "Don't go too crazy with the drink, now."

"I know, I know," he says, "but at least I can go to the bathroom if there's a boring part." I guess he sees the confusion on my face, because he adds, "I kinda don't want to just 'go' here--I just want it to be, you know, just in case." He pokes his crotch a little bit for emphasis, and I immediately feel a stirring in my own. Down, boy! Now, I'm not one to just admire diaper boys or anything, not exactly; I do, however, find the look of a little extra padding down there like that to be really sexy. I might just be biased, though, since I don't think of Zacky that way at all. I mean, he's 10, sure, but I'd feel like I were messing with a 7-year-old, no offense to the adorable little guy. Maybe I'll show him the ropes later on. Better that someone open-minded and experienced like myself does that than someone...less scrupulous. Or experienced.

Either way, I respond, "Your choice. I want to see the whole thing." I smile and get myself situated nice and comfy with my feet propped on the handrail in front of me. In no time, the previews come and go, and the movie begins in earnest. 'Lone Wolf' is basically a superhero movie about a Native American who runs a very successful set of casinos by day, fighting crime by night by calling on the spirits of his ancestors. It's kinda goofy for a premise, but what superhero story doesn't share that problem? The important part is that the whole thing is surprisingly action-packed, even from like minute 2. There's a scene where a bunch of crooks try to rob the casino, and out of nowhere, they hear the sound of a wolf howling throughout the room, and then all hell breaks loose. It gets more interesting later, when he has to save the entire reservation, and half the western US, from a power-hungry maniac with nukes, threatening to destroy everything from his secret base in Area 51. I won't give away the rest, though; that's basically what the previews told us, anyway.

The important part is that there really is no good point to go to the restroom. Of course, that doesn't matter; I get to go to the restroom the entire time through. As soon as I feel the first need to pee, I just relax and push, peeing for perhaps longer in one stretch than I should in a diaper. I sit and enjoy the temporary warmth before the diaper catches up. Of course, now I have a half-empty bladder and a rapidly-growing boner, but there's not a lot I can do about that. Afterward, I take a long swig of soda and tune back in to the movie, satisfied with the effectiveness of the diaper.

Matty, however, seems very distracted while watching the movie. I lean in and whisper, "What's wrong?"

He slumps a bit in his chair. "I know I need to go soon, but I really don't want to miss the movie."

"Matty, just use the diaper."

He sits silently for a moment. "But what if it leaks?"

I pause a moment. "Do this. Start peeing, and if you lose control--" Explosions on the movie interrupt the conversation. "Hold on." After the cacophony passes, I whisper directly in his ear, "If you lose control, keep trying to hold it as long as you can. It's a good workout. Might help you get control again."

Matty fights the decision a bit, and then rolls his eyes and gets that look of "Okay, fine," on his face. He doesn't say anything more, but he takes a deep breath, and the look on his face gives away what he's doing in his pants.

I pay attention as best I can to the movie for a while, wetting myself a bit more here and there and then waiting for the boner to pass (but not during the good scenes--I really do want to watch the movie, too), and when things calm down, I whisper again, "Hey Matty." When he looks over, I grab his crotch, getting a handful of diaper.

"Hey!" he hisses at me, slapping my arm.

I snicker and say, "Feels like you took my advice. You think you'll be okay for the rest of the movie?"

He shrugs. "I think so."

"We can go change in the bathroom and pee then."

"I didn't bring any underwear."

"Wipe yourself with T.P. and just wear your shorts, no biggie."

Some asshole behind us shushes us, so I leave the topic alone for now and watch the rest of the movie.

When the credits finally roll, everyone starts applauding for reasons I cannot possibly fathom--who are you congratulating, here, the protagonist or the projectionist?--and half the people exit before the hidden scene at the end, which hints at the next movie's plot; everyone knows the superhero movies ALWAYS have one more scene. Anyway, we get up and head out of the dark theater. Once out in the hall, I say, "I have to go pee, so I'll be back."

Matty starts following. "Uh, me too."

Kasha doesn't speak up for a moment, but then realizes what we're doing and says, "Oh! I have to pee, too. Vik, Sean, Mrs. Petersen, we'll be right back."

The restroom is about half-full, which is impressive for the fact that there are at least 10 urinals and two rows of stalls. I take the nearest stall and stand in front of the toilet, relieving myself fully into the poor diaper before taking it and my pants off. As I shuck the diaper off, my dick springs out and forward, begging to be nurtured and loved vigorously. Sorry, little bud, I don't have time for that right now, all right? Slipping out of my shoes and socks--I don't feel like getting any of that wet--I take the diaper off and dress back into my jeans, tucking my ornery erection into the band of my pants behind my belt to keep it from being completely obvious. I exit the stall and nonchalantly throw the diaper away in the trashcan, not really concerned with who sees me. Kasha is already exiting his own stall, diaper tucked surreptitiously in the crook of his arm, but Matty is still hiding in his own, next to the one I was in. I walk back into my stall, glancing underneath to see, um, what step of the process Matty is at; he has his shoes and pants on, so I assume he's already taken off the diaper. He's also facing toward the door, so I assume he's ready to leave, but isn't.

On a whim, I stick my head under the stall partition and glance up. Matty is looking at the door, holding the diaper in one hand. He suddenly looks down and jumps. "What the--!" he says before stifling the rest of the words behind closed lips. Suddenly, he throws the diaper at my face! This takes me off-guard, and as I try to dodge out of the way, I instead slam my shoulders into the partition and fall on the ground, cracking up laughing at how stupid everything that just happened was.

Matty gasps, squatting down to look at me. "Oh my God! Are you okay?!" he asks, trying to fight back laughter.

"Fine," I grunt, laughing in pain. It's not that bad, but damn if it isn't hilarious. I pick up the diaper and my dignity, standing up carefully back into my own stall. Hm. Matty seems to have used this one well--it's a bit heavier than even mine was. Anyway, as I exit, Matty is looking at me with horror and hilarity warring constantly on his face; Kasha is beyond confused; and a couple of other people in the restroom are looking at us like we're insane. I can't argue the point reasonably, so I silently and proudly go and throw the other diaper away in the trashcan, trying to keep a straight face as I start washing my hands. It only works for a few seconds before I crack up laughing with my hands in the stream, accidentally splashing water all over the sink area.

Thankfully, nobody has the guts to even ask what the hell happened, not to mention that the Man Code prevents them from speaking to another person in the restroom anyway. We all exit the restroom; on the way back, Kasha finally asks, "What happened in there?"

"I got attacked by an angry diaper."

"...What?" he replies. Matty just snorts and giggles.

We join back up with the others, who are telling Mrs. Petersen what they thought about the movie. "Ready?" she asks us. We nod, and soon we're all on our way to the van.

Outside, I hear Sean say, "Hey Kasha?" from the back of our group.

"Yeah?"

"I think someone spilled something on your movie seat."

Kasha turns a bit, and I see two obvious wet spots by his legs where his diaper didn't hold out against his onslaught. Newbies, heh. "Oh!" he says, clearly bluffing hardcore, "I thought it felt wet. What the heck?"

Vik has this beautiful look of vindication on his face, but Sean doesn't catch on. "Maybe someone spilled their drink or something."

Zacky guilelessly adds, "That looks like when I have a leak." He then looks at Sean with a look of horror spreading across his face. "Oh, uh..."

"Oh hey, Matty," I quickly say to fill the uncomfortable gap. "Did you maybe want to go to the mall and check out video games? I think there's a new 'Call of Duty' out--the one after 'Infinite Warfare.'"

"Oh yeah!" he exclaims. "Mom! Can we?!"

"We can go take a look," she says, "but no promises on getting the game today."

"But Mom...I've been waiting for this one for like, months!"

She gives me a knowing glance and looks back at Matty. "We'll see."

The deflection seems to work, as Sean makes no more comments, Zacky quietly avoids looking at anyone, and Kasha only occasionally surreptitiously checks the wet spots on the back of his pants on the way to the van. I'd call this little trip a success. While people are getting into the van, my boner has finally calmed down enough to warrant letting it hang again, so I adjust myself accordingly and hop in the very back seat of the van.

The ride is short; now that we're basically in the downtown area, everything is close by. The game store is in a strip center with a Chinese buffet, a clothes alteration shop, and some place with a hoity-toity name in some script that I don't care enough to decipher. We go in and enter Pre-teen's Paradise--okay, the place is named World of Wonder, but it's full of nothing but games and toys, so I'll call it what I will. The place is actually pretty bustling, not like Christmas-level crowding, but still enough people to bump into a few here and there accidentally. Admittedly, I have never been into board games much, so a lot of this place doesn't appeal to me, but there's an entire section full of miniatures for tabletop RPGs and the like, which is pretty cool; I'm sure I could get good at painting on that scale if I spent enough time, but I'd rather it just be amazing and mysterious to me. That's a rare commodity to someone my, uh, 'age,' so I like to preserve it where I can.

We boys all split to our respective corners: the twins head to the PS4 games, Zacky to the Nintendo wall, Sean over to the science gadgets and toys, and myself with Matty over at the Xbox games.

Matty sees the new 'Call of Duty' game I was talking about, 'Beyond Warfare,' and asks, "Mom! Can I please get that game?! It's got all the new weapons and an awesome multiplayer--they fixed it after Infinite Warfare, which sucked, but now--"

Mrs. Petersen interrupts, "Matty! Watch your language!"

"What?" he asks, and then realizes what he said during his rambling. "Oh, sorry. It was really bad, though. Anyway, can I?!"

"No, honey, not right now."

"But--!" he sputters. "But today's my birthday! What do you mean, 'not right now'?"

"I mean exactly what I said, Matty," she replies definitively. "Now leave it alone."

Matty scoffs and groans, but before he can respond, she gives him a challenging stare. He backs down, pouting, and stalks off to go join Sean at the science toys. I look up at Mrs. Petersen, who glances at me with a devious half-smile gracing a corner of her lips. I nod in quiet understanding and follow behind Matty.

We actually end up buying one of those plasma balls, the things where the pink bolts of electricity connect to your fingers through the glass orb, and for the time being, Matty is placated. On the car ride back, I lean forward from the back seat to ask Sean, "So you like science stuff?"

He nods, "Yeah, it's my favorite subject, if you don't count Orchestra."

Of course he likes Science. Damn you, Sean--why do you have to be so likable, and yet tailor-made to make me jealous?! "Hey, me too. I mean, I'm in the remedial class this year because I was seriously stupid last year, but oh well--it's still interesting."

We both get distracted by the twins having an argument over which one of them is a better singer. Kasha announces, "Matty can fix this. Matty, which one of us is better singer?"

I sigh and shake my head. "Kasha, that's rude to put him on the spot like that--"

Matty answers, regardless. "You both sound the same when you sing. You're, like, both the best singer. This is a dumb argument."

Kasha isn't pleased with his answer, but Vik laughs. I chime in, "I mean, you two have the same pipes. You're twins."

"I know," Kasha says, "but it's not what you have, it's how you use it."

I can't resist the opportunity: "Wait, we're still talking about singing, right?"

Sean and Vik get it and immediately bust out laughing and giggling. Kasha stares at us for two whole seconds before going, "Ohhhhhhh!" and joining in the laughter. Matty holds off until that point, but Kasha looks so stupid with his wide-eyed 'eureka face' that even Matty can't help but laugh. I see Matty's mom's eyes in the rear view, but they're staring back with less of a look of 'watch your mouth' and more 'that was seriously terrible.' I beam back with a guilty grin.

We get back to the house around mid-afternoon and hang out again for a little while; Matty beats the crap out of the twins on 'Black Ops' while Sean messes around on Matty's keyboard (turns out he's really damn good, despite his modesty). Zacky spends some time admiring Matty's action figure collection on his shelves; an hour in, though, he goes over and whispers something in Matty's ear, and they both head into the bathroom.

"I, uh, we'll be right back in like a minute," Matty says, peeking his head back around the doorway to say it before darting out of sight again.

"What's that all about?" Sean asks.

"I honestly don't know," I admit. I mean, I guess it's a diaper-related thing, but I know that Matty isn't wearing any underwear at all at the moment, and Zacky...is Matty changing him?! No, there's no way. Matty barely even tolerates the damn things--surely he's not changing someone else's diaper. But, I suppose just in case: "Hey, do you know any piano pieces by Chopin, by chance?"

"Just this one." Sean begins playing 'Fantaisie Impromptu,' which, if you haven't heard it, is absolutely hellishly quick-fingered. Just watching him fly across the keyboard with the speed of a swarm of angry bees is entrancing--but more importantly, it distracts everyone from the other two boys. They miss the second movement, a much slower, soothing interlude from the aggressive beginning, and arrive just at the end of the impressive final movement. When he finishes, everyone in the room gives him a round of applause, Kasha even going so far as to whistle for him. Sean just grins bashfully, red suffusing his pinchable cheeks.

Matty sighs. "I'd never be able to be that good."

"Oh, come on, now," Sean replies. "All it takes is practice. Back when I was taking lessons, I went over that piece over and over again so much...If you heard me practicing it, you woulda thrown things at me to get me to stop."

Matty points out, "Yeah, but you can reach like over an octave with your hands. It's crazy!"

Sean looks at his own splayed hand. "Yeah, I guess I do have freaky long fingers."

"Dude, look." Matty puts his hand up to Sean's, whose long, spindly fingers completely dwarf Matty's. "My fingers are short and stubby. You have like the perfect piano fingers."

Sean shrugs, taking his hand back. "I really prefer the cello, anyway. Speaking of, have you ever thought about taking up an instrument like a violin or something? That doesn't require spider hands like these." He wiggles his fingers for emphasis.

"Eh, I guess I'll just stick to singing. When my voice really starts changing, though, I dunno what I'll do about that."

I pipe up, "Everybody deals with it. It's no big deal."

"Boys?" Matty's mom's voice reverberates down the hall. "How does ordering pizza sound for dinner?"

"YEAH!" we all scream in unison.

She gets our order (after we can all agree on three total pizzas, even though we all like different toppings) and by the time we even realize we're hungry, it arrives. I don't care what age I am at the time, or how many times I've had it...pizza is still, and always will be, one of my favorite foods.

"Hey Sean," I say over a mouth full of garlic-butter-slathered crust, "Try the Canadian Bacon--it's awesome."

He's busy finishing his first slice (I'm already halfway through my second), but he replies, "No thanks. I'm vegetarian."

This for some reason takes me completely off guard and I swallow hard on a pizza chunk. Not choking or anything, but definitely enough to get a napkin and cough up the entire bite. I cough like mad for a moment, to the point where Matty starts freaking out a little bit, and Kasha gets out of his seat to ineffectually hit my back to try and make me cough it up. I wave my hand dismissively at the two, holding up a finger to show that 'I'm okay, give me a sec,' and after I can resume normal breathing, I take one last deep breath and cough up any remaining stuff in my windpipe.

"Wow. Hey guys, don't inhale pizza. It hurts."

"Are you okay?!" Matty squeals at me. At this point, the mother is in the kitchen with a worried look, as well.

Sighing, I say, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just swallowed wrong. No big deal, I promise."

Sean's face is both concerned and amused, as he knows precisely what caused that fit. "Sorry," he says quietly.

Now that the table is completely quiet, I ask, "Why are you vegetarian? I mean, not that it's bad, but just curious."

He throws his head to the side and rolls his eyes softly (just as anything he ever does). "My parents are vegetarian, so I just never really learned to like meat. I tried bacon once, but it was, well, pretty gross."

"WHAAAT?!" Kasha screeches like an ambulance passing by. "Bacon is the best food ever!"

"I don't care if other people eat meat, I just don't. I try not to make it a big deal since people always think that I'm judging them or something. I don't care, really."

Kasha gets a solemn look on his face, closes his eyes, and raises his eyebrows, as if he is about to make the world's most important proclamation. "A life without bacon is a life without happy. ...ness. Happiness."

I smack my face in a violent facepalm and everyone else laughs, either at the sentiment or the well-timed language mistake. "Clearly Sean has been happy multiple times, so I don't think that's true. Maybe for you, but still."

"Remember to save some room for cake," comes Mama Petersen's voice from the living room. Speaking of which, I haven't even seen a cake around here.

Before I can even ask, Matty proudly adds, "It's an ice cream cake, too! Cookies and cream." He bites the last of his second pizza slice into his mouth, avoiding the crusts entirely.

We all finish our pizza and small-talk for a bit before Mrs. Petersen ceremoniously pulls the ice cream cake out of the freezer. It's a rectangular cake with white whipped cream icing and fun little science designs on it, like the typical atom symbol, a radioactive symbol, and a little beaker. It's cute. Written across the center in cursive script is 'Happy __th Birthday, Matty!' with enough space for two large number candles to be placed before the 'th' letters. She does so, lighting the '12' with one of those nifty electric lighters (I've never seen her smoke, but I guess she just owns one for this sort of purpose). Then she says, "On the count of three, boys! One, two, three--" and everyone joins in in a not-off-key version of 'Happy Birthday.' It's so rare to hear it in tune that it's almost hard to recognize, but then again, we have a room full of musicians (present company notwithstanding). Even Matty's mom is a pretty decent singer, truth be told. Of course, the twins have to add their own little flourish at the end, rising up to the third and fifth of the chord just for a touch of harmony.

"Well, blow out the candles," Mrs. Petersen says.

Matty narrows his eyes at her. "Are they going to light back up?"

"What? No! Why would I buy those kinds of candles?" She has an obvious liar's face on.

"Because you did for the last two years, Mom."

"Well, blow them out before the wax melts your ice cream cake. Come on, then." She beckons at the cake.

Matty rolls his eyes, sighs, and blows out the candles for his entire lungs' worth of air. The room goes silent as the anticipation lies thick; everyone watches the candles for any sign of re-lighting.

Nothing happens.

"What?" Matty says, astonished. "They're just regular candles?"

"I thought you didn't like the re-lighting ones, so I got regular ones this time." Her smile is just 100% troll.

"But I--" he starts, and then just smiles stupidly, looking away mock-petulantly. "Okay, fine. You win."

She beams from ear to ear as she cuts into the cake, starting just shy of the middle. When she cuts into it, though, the magic happens--it's actually a double-decker ice cream sandwich all the way through! I had no idea this is what "cookies and cream" could even mean. She cuts the wall piece out and offers it up, which Kasha greedily nabs. "Anyone want a corner piece?"

"I will take the corner, please," Vik says politely.

Zacky steals the other corner, I take a wall piece, Sean just takes the next available piece--incidentally a wall piece, as the cake isn't super thick--and Matty gets the piece exactly in the center. She even surgically removes the piece with barely disturbing its neighbors. She presents it to Matty and proclaims, "From the sun, the moon, and me."

He grins and kisses her puckered lips. "Thanks, Mom." He takes the piece and puts it on the table, but doesn't start eating as the others do.

After I have a few bites (it is exactly like how eating a cake made of ice cream sandwiches sounds, which is amazing), I notice that Matty is holding his fork in one hand and staring at the cake with a searching sort of expression. I lean over from my seat and ask, "What's the matter?"

He snaps out of it to look at me and quickly replies, "Oh, it's--it's nothing." At my continuing worried stare, he adds, "It's just that D--my dad always used to do this one thing...it's not important." He slices a piece of cake off with his fork and takes a bite.

"What's the matter?" Zacky asks a bit late.

"Oh," I interject before anyone else can, "Matty is just taking a moment to take in how awesome everything is so far. This cake is ridiculously good, Mrs. Petersen."

"It's fine," Matty says. "I just was remembering things. No big deal." He takes another bite to show how not-a-big-deal it all is.

Satisfied with the answer, the other boys chow down on cake; surprisingly little conversation happens after that, but then again, the cake is really good.

As things are winding down and more than one boy is sprawled on their chair belly-out trying to find extra room, Mrs. Petersen makes the next announcement: "And now, boys, I think it's time for presents! Clean up your messes--just throw away the paper plates and plastic forks, I'm not saving them--and I'll be right back!"

When she comes back, she's holding a card and three different presents: one cubical one wrapped in paper that looks like pixelated cobblestone, one small box wrapped in camouflage, and one flat box with really neat purple paper that kinda looks like storm clouds. I have to admit--she has taste. As she places them on the table, she gets out her cellphone and points it at Matty. "Go ahead," she says with a nod, "open them."

Matty looks back and forth between her and the presents, as if expecting one of them to be a trap. He takes the stony-looking box and starts tearing the paper off of it. Kasha calls out, "Drrrrrrum roll, please!" and starts tapping the table rapidly. We all join in.

From our vantage point, we can't see what Matty uncovers, but as he tears more of the paper off, his eyes shoot wide open. "Cool!" he exclaims, tearing off the rest of the paper to reveal a 'Minecraft' Lego set (with some extra cardboard in the present just to make it cubical). "Dude! I can set this up right next to the Creeper action figure I have on the shelves!"

"Keep going," his mom prods. "What do you think the purple one is?"

Matty narrows his eyes. "Hmm...it's kinda the color of the plasma ball, but too flat. I dunno." The drum roll starts up again, and Matty tears the paper off to reveal...an Amazon box! ...and then he rips that open to reveal a cool hoodie with the 'Fortnite' logo and a crossed pickaxe and assault rifle, two of the iconic tools in the game. "Hey, how'd you know I started playing that?"

"I heard you talking to one of your friends on the phone about it a week or two ago, and decided to go look it up. Besides, you needed a new hoodie."

Matty beams, holding it up to his chest. "It's awesome. Thanks, Mom." He keeps it there a second longer as Vik takes a pic with his phone, and then puts it gently aside as he goes for the final present. Kasha starts up the drum roll again, this time even more vigorously than before (it's a good thing this kitchen table is solid wood). Matty tears the camouflage paper open and as soon as he realizes what's in the box, he almost screams, "NO WAY!" He rips the rest off and holds out the box to 'Call of Duty: Beyond Warfare' for everyone to see. The twins cheer loudly, Sean nods with a "Nice!" and Zacky claps for him. Matty looks at the twins with an evil grin: "I'm gonna own you so hard at this in a little bit!"

Kasha narrows his eyes. "Bring it on."

Matty looks up at his mom. "Mom, this is so cool--thank you thank you thank you!" He bounds out of the chair and wraps her in a bear hug.

"Oof!" she says, almost dropping the phone. "You're only allowed to kill people on the game, not real life. No suffocating Mom, eh?" She presses the button to stop recording on her phone and envelops him in a loving hug. "Happy birthday, hon."

"Oh my God, you guys, we have to go try this out. Come on!" He scampers off down the hall with his loot, the train of boys following behind.

I stay a moment and watch his mom watch them go. When they're out of earshot, I remark, "Matty really needed this. Thanks."

She half-smiles and replies, "I think we all did." Then, narrowing her eyes at me, she adds, "There's...there's more to you than just visions, isn't there." Her words are a question, but her tone of voice makes it clear she knows the answer.

I look back at her for a long moment. It's not like I've tried to hide much of my normal way of acting, and she's perceptive enough. I reply simply, "There is."

"I can't say I even begin to understand it, but even when you had breakfast with us the first time, I could tell that you weren't a normal boy your age. For one, you really weren't lying when you said you wanted to become a psychic."

I snort out a laugh and say, "Actually, the part where I can tell the future was the part I didn't lie about. Truth be told, I really don't want to be a psychic."

She laughs and shakes her head. "See? That's what I mean. Even if you get visions or whatever, though, there's a whole lot more going on. More than 'visions' can explain."

I contemplate telling her the real truth. She may not ever find out, but Matty will likely accidentally tell her at some point. Then again, I could prevent it. But do I care? I open my mouth to answer, but before I can say anything else, Matty pops his head out the door and calls, "You coming?"

"Yeah! On my way, sorry." I look back at Ms. Petersen and say, "You're right, and you can think of me how you will, but I promise you that your son is in good hands." Hm. That promise didn't burn on the way out like they usually do.

"'Good hands,'" she repeats. "Maybe a pair of wings, too."

"Which type, feather or leather?"

"Go play, would you?" She points down the hall with a half-exasperated smile on her face.

I show up just in time to see Matty scream, "NO! What the--how?" Kasha just laughs maniacally as Matty waits to respawn on Beyond Warfare. Looks like the 'owning' that Matty boasted about is going the other way. Zacky has already delved into the Legos, making a small mountain for the Minecraft sheep to stand on. Sean is in on the shooting games, though judging by the looks of it, they're not his forte (pun not intended, see store dealer for details).

I sit down with Zacky and help build a mountain for a while, though he apparently has a much better eye for how a Minecraft mountainside is supposed to look than I do--he keeps correcting me and putting the pieces that I place on it elsewhere. Nevertheless, it passes the time until about 8:30, which is when the doorbell rings. Zacky looks out the bedroom door in dread, knowing exactly what the sound means.

Shortly afterward, Suzie comes striding down the hall, eyes locked on Zacky. "Come on! You know I said we'd be here at 8:30. Get your stuff, and let's go!"

"But I was almost done making the mountain!" At Suzie's implacable and uncaring stare, he begrudgingly stands up. "Fine, fine. Matty, I gotta go."

Matty turns around and waves quickly, saying, "Okay, bye! Thanks for coming over!" before wheeling around to watch his character get nailed in the chest. "Ugh! No fair!"

I chime in, "That's what you did to me when we played, you know."

"Yeah, but..." He has no comeback to that, so he just doubles down on his concentration.

Suzie watches Zacky walk out of the room down the hall, and quickly shoots me a glance, nodding her head as if to beckon me to come with her.

We walk down the hallway, hearing Zacky say 'bye' to Ms. Petersen, and follow suit. I point out that I'll be right back. Outside, Suzie says, "Tell Mom I'll be right there! I just need to ask Phillip a question."

Zacky looks confused, but says, "Okay...but I get shotgun!"

Facing away from the car toward me, she looks over her shoulder and calls out, "Fine! Whatever!" and focuses back on me. "So...did you read the paper?"

"I did. I don't have a phone, though."

"What?!" she asks, incredulous.

"Long story. I'll have one soon. What did you want to say?" I stare into her eyes, almost challengingly. I know where this is going.

"I, I was wondering if you...wanted to go out sometime." She manages to say the entire thing without breaking eye contact.

"I would, but I'm already seeing someone, if that's what you mean."

Immediately crestfallen, she rolls her eyes. "Go fig. Lemme guess, it's some cheerleader or someone popular."

I blink a few times with a blank stare and finally say, "It's Matty."

She opens her mouth to say something, but the realization hits her like a brick, making her recoil in confusion. "You. You what--Matty? You mean...Matty?!" She points to the house to make sure I know which 'Matty' out of all the Mattys in the world she could possibly be referring to. I nod. "But you can't be gay!" she finally says after a long, sputtering pause.

"Well, I'm dating Matty." I shrug, an amused smile creeping up on my face.

Zacky sticks his head out the passenger-side window. "Mom says to hurry up already!"

"But you're too CUTE to be gay!" she says, immediately regretting those words. "I mean, how--how do you know? I mean, you're pretty young, right?"

"Have you ever asked a girl out?" This is my standard question when people ask the inevitable stupid questions like this.

"What? Ew, no!"

"Why not?"

"Because they--" The pieces fall together in her mind. "I see. Well. I guess have a good night." She starts to walk away.

"Good night, Suzie," I say to her backside as she strides quickly to the car, getting in the back seat. I notice as she opens the door that there's another boy in there, one with the same hair color as Zacky, just in a buzz-cut style. I assume he's a brother, seeing as I know Suzie and Zacky aren't dating anyone. I suppose he could be a cousin.

Anyway, when I get back inside, Matty's mom gives me a quizzical look. I have no reason to hide any truth from her, so I shrug and say, "She wanted to ask me out."

"Ah." Seemingly satisfied, she goes back to watching whatever made-for-TV movie was playing. Maybe a TV series--I never care enough to know.

I head back to the room, where the boys have seemingly exhausted themselves on 'Call of Duty': Sean is sitting on the piano bench, the twins are on opposite ends of the bed (and here I was wondering if they were physically capable of existing outside of a foot of each other), and Matty is sitting on a fold-out chair, though I have no idea where it came from. I mean, I guess if they entertain additional guests, they probably have a few extra chairs around. I walk back in and plop down in the middle of the bed to somewhat complete the weird circle they've created. "What's up?" I ask the room.

Matty says, "We were trying to decide what to do. Kasha kinda wants to tell ghost stories again, but I'm kinda 'meh' on it."

Vik suggests, "Well, we could play 'Never Have I Ever.'"

Matty asks, "What's that?" at the same time that I firmly say, "NO. Not playing that." Matty looks at me quizzically.

"I..." I start, realizing that the real answer is definitely out-of-bounds, "I just hate the game. This one time, my older sister was supposed to watch me while the parents were out for a few days, so she of course invited a bunch of older friends and turned it into a weekend drinking party. They kept playing that game and getting drunker and drunker, and I was left making sure they didn't knock anything over or puke on the furniture. Just...not my idea of fun." Yeah, that never actually happened. At all. It's all I could come up with on the spot, though.

Matty looks at me, concerned. "I'm sorry," he says innocently.

"It's nobody's fault...here, at least. Sorry for snapping, Vik; I just really hate that game, is all." I do explain the game to Matty to at least answer his question: Never Have I Ever is a game where everyone starts out standing, and one person says something that they have never ever done (example: "Never have I ever broken a bone"). Everyone who actually has done that thing must then sit down. The last one standing wins the round. As you might expect, I'm not going to have to play a game where I have to either lie every single time or sit down every single time. I've done a lot of things, and lying uselessly just means too many stories to keep up with.

Kasha gets a mischievous smile on his face. "Well, we could always play Truth or Dare."

"Uhhhh," Matty stammers, "maybe later? Maybe something else first?" He looks at his doorway unconsciously, giving his motives away.

"Well, I think it'd be fine. Just keep in mind that the dares can't get too crazy while his mom is out watching TV. We wouldn't want to disturb her by, say, singing Whitney Houston at the top of our lungs." I smirk at Matty, who laughs and facepalms at the reference. "I'll start out. Kasha: Truth or Dare?"

"Truth, your Honor," he says solemnly, hand raised as if giving an oath.

"Would you rather be a twin or just a regular brother?"

Kasha seems genuinely stumped by the question. "I don't think...I have ever thought about it before. What about you, Vik?"

"It's not my turn to answer," he says simply. He does seem interested in the answer, though.

"Well?" I say, beckoning to Kasha.

"Well, on one side it's annoying sometimes to be called the wrong name, and my teachers get us mixed up a lot. But on the other, having a twin is like always having someone there who knows you almost as well as you know yourself, you know?"

"I suppose I don't know," I admit, "seeing as I don't have a twin."

"Uh, right," he stutters, realizing how dumb the question sounded. "But I mean...Vik is as much a friend as a brother. I don't know if it be the same if we weren't twins." He gives Vik a look, a hard to decipher one, but apparently one full of meaning to Vik himself. He smiles a little bit for a brief moment before breaking eye contact and looking about the room. Kasha changes the subject--and the questioning. "Truth or Dare?" he asks Sean.

"Truth, I guess," he says.

"What do you believe?"

"What do you mean?"

Kasha gestures above himself grandly. "Like, what do you think is life for? Do you believe in God? All that."

"Oh," he says, nodding slowly in comprehension. "Well, I'm Catholic, but I guess I don't really know if I believe all the things they preach at church. I do believe in God, and Jesus, but the whole 'eating the body of Christ' thing is, I dunno, just really weird to me. And I don't know the meaning of life, so I can't answer that part."

"But if you had a choice," Kasha points to Sean for emphasis, "what would you say the purpose is?"

Sean pulls his lanky legs up onto the piano bench and wraps his arms around them. "Hm," he utters pensively, absently chewing the inside of his cheek. "I guess it would be to find what makes you happy, and do it." Kasha seems satisfied with the answer, so Sean proclaims, "Matty. Truth or Dare?"

"Uhh...Dare." the smile of anticipation on his face is freaking adorable.

Sean thinks for a moment before a smile blossoms on his face. "Do an impression of your most boring teacher."

Matty's eyes go wide. "Oh my God, our math teacher is sooooo boring! Mr. 'Slow-pez' talks. Like. This." Mr. Lopez, our math teacher, really does talk like every little chunk of a sentence has a comma or period after it. Pushing an imaginary set of glasses up his nose, he continues, "Twenty-three. Times. Seventy-two. Then, find. X."

The twins are both giggling at the performance; it's pretty spot-on, to be honest. I snicker a bit, and Sean claps his spider-fingered hands in applause. "Nice," he says, nodding.

Kasha adds, "God, I hope I don't get Mr. 'Slow-pez' next year. Ew!"

Looking proud at his impersonation, Matty says, "Hmmmmm...Vik. Truth or Dare?"

Kasha looks at him and loudly whispers, "Daaaaaaare..."

Vik rolls his eyes and says, "Dare."

"I dare you to act like a secret agent and go spy on my mom. You have to take a picture of her without her knowing."

Vik stares at Matty for a long moment, but finally sighs. "Okay. But I need equipment."

"Umm, I don't have spy equipment."

"Sure you do." Vik gets up and goes to the closet, pulling out a solid black long-sleeved shirt (for the three days that this region in Texas ever gets cold). He wraps the sleeves around his head and ties them so that only his eyes are visible, with the trunk of the shirt flapping like a lopsided cape. This has Matty giggling stupidly, and Sean's eyes are twinkling on the edge of outright laughter, as well.

Kasha suddenly springs up and grabs a handful of Legos from the leftover 'Minecraft' stuff and pours them into an ankle sock on the floor. "In case they see you, you need a getaway plan." He hands the sock to Vik, who nods solemnly.

Armed with his cellphone in his right hand, set to Camera mode, Vik takes the sock with his left hand and starts heading to the door. He stops suddenly, putting the sock down so that he can take his shoes off, as well. He whispers, "Stealth mode activated," and takes the Legos and the camera out to the mission zone.

We all stick our heads out the door in a cheesy approximation of a 'Scooby-Doo' moment as Vik dashes from cover to cover, moving surprisingly silently across the kitchen. He finally ducks behind the side of the stairwell so that he can peek up and see Matty's mom on the couch through the bars holding up the handrail. Slowly raising the phone, he shakily presses a button on the side of it, taking a picture of the target. Unfortunately, he apparently forgot to turn off the flash, as the entire living room is bathed in bright LED light for a second before the picture goes off. A collective gasp escapes from us as Vik ducks quickly down, tucking his phone away in his pocket as quickly as possible.

"Abort!" Matty half-whispers loudly enough to be heard, though not over the TV.

Vik looks for possible escape routes. Just as we hear the TV turn down and Ms. Petersen ask what that flash just was, Vik whips out the sock and turns it inside out, sprinkling Legos across the entire hallway, making an unnaturally reverberating clatter as the tiny plastic pieces roll across the tiled floor. He crouches down and does his best version of a ninja run as he sprints back to the bedroom, tripping at the last second and slamming his shoulder into the door frame. We essentially drag him back into the room, checking to see if he's okay; he starts laughing about the whole thing, and the moment we hear an annoyed, "Matty!" we all crack up laughing. Soon, we see the shadow of his mom towering over us, which just makes us all laugh harder; tears are streaming down my face, Matty has already run to the bathroom, and Sean is literally rolling back and forth laughing.

Through teary eyes, I can see Ms. Petersen trying her damnedest not to laugh, and failing at it. "Look, whoever made a Lego trap in the hallway needs to go clean it up. I'm headed to bed. You guys try to be quiet, okay?" Our reply is simply continued laughter.

Suddenly, as Ms. Petersen is headed back down the hall, Vik gasps for breath and says, "O der'mo! " He sits up, the 'ninja mask' already having come loose and fallen off, and looks down at his blue jeans, which now sport a sizable wet circle on them. He closes his legs quickly, pulls them up to himself, and gets a very serious face.

"Dude, it's fine," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. "That happens to Matty, too. Even me, sometimes."

He shrugs my hand off and rotates away where he can't see my face (or I his), still hugging his legs to himself closely. Matty walks in and asks, "What's going on?" as he senses the considerably different mood in the room. "Are you okay?" he asks Vik.

Vik's response is to stand up quickly and dart down the hall to the restroom. Kasha stands up equally fast, but pauses as he watches Vik dash off. "Um, let me--let me go talk to him," he says haltingly. He pushes through us and heads to the bathroom. I hear him knock quietly and say something in Russian, too quietly to translate; shortly after, he opens the door and goes in.

"What happened?!" Matty asks me in a loud whisper.

Sighing, I reply, "He laughed too much and had a little accident."

"Oh. I had to run to the bathroom before I did, too. Why is he...?"

"He's just embarrassed, is all." I look over to see Sean, who is conspicuously not paying attention to what's going on, instead having gone over to fiddle with buttons and knobs on the piano keyboard. "You know how it is, right?"

"Yeah, but I mean, I figured my case was a bit different. Y'know."

I shrug. Keeping my voice low as Sean begins to play a soothing tune, I nod back at him and ask Matty, "Does he know about your, uh, condition?"

"Well, yeah, kinda. He knows about the accident I had at school, and that stupid freakin' Chris keeps making fun of me for it."

There is an awkward lull in the conversation, covered up by the dulcet melody Sean is playing. A few moments later, ViKasha come out of the bathroom, Kasha leading the way (considering that his crotch is dry, it's not too hard to tell the difference).

They come back in and sit in silence for a moment, taking their old spots. Vik says, "So...it's my turn, yes? Phillip, Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," I elect, not wanting to damage the situation further.

"I will ask you Kasha's question. What do you believe in?"

Damn. I shoulda seen that coming. "Hard to say, really."

"Do you believe in Jesus?"

"Not really."

Sean interjects, "So you're atheist?"

"What I am is done with my answers for now--one question, one answer." Kasha gives Vik a strange look, which Vik reciprocates with an equally enigmatic one. I swear, they have their own optical language. "Anyway," I continue, "since it's my turn: Sean, Truth or Dare?"

He gets a lazy half-smile on his face: "Screw it. Dare."

"I dare you to sit on the bed, right here," I indicate the middle of the bed with legs dangling, "and not make a sound for a full minute. No matter what."

"And if I do make a sound?" He hastens to add, "We haven't started yet."

"Right. If you make a sound, you lose a piece of clothes. Shirt or pants. In fact," I say, sitting on the bed and reaching to pull off my shoe, "new rule: no shoes or socks."

Everybody agrees, Sean a touch more reluctantly than the others, though I'm fairly certain they know where this is headed. Sean walks barefoot (his toes are long, like his fingers) over to the bed and sits down with his legs hanging over as instructed. I sit behind him and crack my knuckles. "Here's the test." He immediately seizes up as if preparing to be tickled, but when I put my hands on his shoulders and begin to work my thumbs into his trapezius muscle, he involuntarily lets out the most sensuous, guttural full-lung moan I've heard in a while. It takes most of us by surprise, with Vik even jumping a little bit at the sudden sound.

Without making another sound or even being told otherwise, he reaches back and slips his shirt over his head, revealing a smooth back with a few tiny blemishes where perhaps a pubescent bout of acne hit. I continue to knead his muscles, which glide easily under my hands; he doesn't seem the type to carry a lot of stress around, so that doesn't surprise me.

Shortly after the moan, a few things happen: the twins both giggle at the suddenness and absurdity of the sound, Sean continues to make porn sounds, and I get rock-fucking-hard from it. I see Matty shift a little bit, picking at his crotch to (I assume) let his boner point upward in peace.

"Dang, Phillip!" Vik says. "Can I be next?" Kasha, surprisingly, doesn't say anything, still just giggling at the stupid sounds Sean is making.

I keep at it a moment longer, watching Sean's head practically lolling in bliss. I decide to forgo the pectoral massage, as I don't really want to poke him in the back with my own member, and with the erotic sounds he's making, I might just pop like I did with Matty the first time. After I stop, he just sits there silently for a few seconds, soaking it all in, and then says, "Jesus, Phillip--that was amazing."

"Eh, I've had a bit of practice." I smile proudly; out of the corner of my eye, though, I see Matty eying us both intently. "Anyway, you lose the Dare, so I guess it's your turn to ask one."

Sean leans back on his arms, exposing a nice flat chest and abs. He's a fairly skinny boy, not a lot of meat on him, but he's broad-shouldered, so there's a lot of chest nevertheless. "Hm. 'Kasha,' is it? Truth or Dare?"

Vik looks about to say something, but Kasha quickly says, "Truth!"

"Okay, um...here's one. What's the weirdest thought you've ever had about someone?"

"Uhh..." Kasha stammers, "I really don't know. I don't really think weird things."

I raise an eyebrow. "I haven't known you that long, and I can guarantee that isn't true. Number one, everybody has weird thoughts once in a while, and two, you're Kasha."

He giggles. "Okay, okay. Um, Sometimes, when I see someone, especially if they're really nice and friendly, I wonder what it would be like if I just punched them for no reason. Just walk up and--POW!" He accentuates it with a left hook.

Vik sputters, laughing. "What?!"

Matty and Sean both find the image hilarious, and I chuckle along as well. I say, "Believe it or not, that's not an uncommon thought. A lot of people imagine weird things like that. Here's one: we used to have a pet cat when I was younger--she died a few years ago because she was older than dirt--but she used to love being held like a baby. Every once in a while, when I was holding her, I'd get this thought about just throwing her into the ceiling fan. I mean, I NEVER would do that, but my brain's just like, 'Here, have this HORRIFYING thought to chew on.'"

"Geez, and I thought I was crazy." Kasha shakes his head, laughing. "Okay, so Vik. Truth or Dare?"

Vik shrugs. "Eh, Dare."

"I dare you to take off my pants!"

Vik furrows his brow. "Your pants?"

"Wait, no." Kasha seems a bit confused by his own words. "No, just take off yours. Better that you don't get a rash from them."

Vik blinks a few times, stands up, and undoes his pants, letting them and his damp dark green briefs fall to the floor; his glans still peeks out from under his t-shirt with how long he is. Must be that Russian blood or something.

Sean says, "Whoa, hey, you're naked," looking away from Vik.

Vik puts his hands up and says, "What? We are all boys here, is no big deal. Besides, like Kasha said, I might get a rash if I stay in the wet pants."

Sean, still facing away, says, "Yeah, but it's just weird to me."

I ask, "Have you ever seen another boy naked before?"

He turns to look at me, still studiously avoiding looking in the general direction of nudity. "Well, yeah, my younger brother, but I mean that was like, when he was still potty training, and maybe once after that. That was years ago."

"Well then...how about this? Get up a sec." As he does so, I whip the blue wavy-patterned comforter (not as gracefully as it sounds, though) off of Matty's bed and toss it over to the twins. It lands across Kasha's lap and over Vik's head, who continues to sit there as if nothing happened. He's covered, though, so that's the important part, I guess.

"We have sleeping bags," comes a muffled reminder from under the blanket, followed by an arm poking out from the side that deposits a shirt on the floor. "Anyway, um..." Vik says, and then flips the blanket over his head so he can see his target. "Matty. Your turn! Truth or Dare?"

"Dare!" He almost looks ready to start unbuttoning his pants already.

"I dare you to fight a Sudden Death with Kasha in Black Ops! Whoever dies gets naked."

"You're on," Matty says in his most threatening voice. It comes off a bit more 'rawr' than 'roar' if you know what I mean, but close enough--points for effort.

Anyway, while the two boot the console up and wait for the game to load, I tap Sean's shoulder and nod toward the door. He follows me out; I say in a quiet voice, "Hey, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable in this, but just so you know, we are probably going to end up 'messing around.' We've done this before. Are you okay with that?"

"What do you mean, 'messing around'? Like, having sex?"

"Well, not really. I mean maybe, but more like just exploring and learning things that feel good."

He takes a good moment to think about it. I hear "No no no no! WHOA!" and things like that from in the bedroom as the other boys are wrapped up in the game. Finally, he says, "I mean, I guess if it's not sex, then I'm okay with it. It sounds kinda fun."

I smile devilishly. "Think of it this way: when you have sex the first time, do you want to know what you're doing? Or would you rather be a total noob and have no idea at all? Lots of boys do things like this so that we can be better at it when it's for real." As manipulative as that may sound, it's true, really.

Just then we hear Matty yell, "HA! Gotcha!" I turn and look in the door in time to see Matty do an adorable little victory dance just before his character blows up. He screeches, "What?!"

Kasha barks a similar victory laugh. In a taunting sing-song voice he chants, "I threw a grenaaaaaade! I threw a grenaaaaade!"

"That's not fair!"

"Why not?"

"Because...because I killed you first!"

Vik interrupts, "But I said, 'Whoever dies gets naked.' You both died."

Matty rolls his eyes and says, "You first, though." He quickly grabs both sides of Kasha's jeans at the hips and tugs down as hard as he can. Thanks to a distinct lack of hips or a belt, the jeans come flying down, his dark blue briefs (so they DO dress differently sometimes!) dragging to where one nut is hanging out.

"Hey!" he says, instinctively grabbing at his underwear to keep it in place. Quickly taking control of the situation, he steps out of his undies, throws his shirt off, and yanks Matty's shorts down--or at least tries. Due to the virtue of that gorgeous boy butt, he has a lot more problems doing so. Matty sticks his tongue out and makes a `raspberry' while unbuttoning his shorts and shucking his garments off. Cute Russian twins notwithstanding, it doesn't take much more for me to get hard than just seeing Matty naked. He's already semi-hard, so that doesn't make anything easier, if you catch my drift.

I look at Sean. "If anything happens that makes you uncomfortable, just say so and I'll make it stop. Cool?"

Sean just unbuckles his belt and smiles, walking into the room in front of me. Well then.

I follow him in and announce, "I dare everyone else to get naked." I follow suit, stripping down to a rapidly-stiffening boner. I'm surprised I haven't hemorrhaged with how long and often that damn thing goes up. Not that I'm mad about it, really.

Sean strips down as well, revealing a smooth body all the way down, but with a decent amount of growth in the important parts. He hangs a nice amount down while limp, nothing out of the ordinary, and his balls aren't super-tight, but they're not saggy or anything. A nice set, really. Interestingly, he's uncut; I didn't think that was common around here. I mean, out of all my childhoods that I went through (which, admittedly, were far fewer than adulthoods--I have no idea what I was thinking), I saw very few uncircumcised kids, or at least uncircumcised white kids. Whichever way it was, though, seeing this kid with slightly rosy cheeks and the same inviting smile standing smooth and stark in front of me speeds up the process until I'm once again ready to joust with anyone unfortunate enough to stand in front of me.

"Dang, Phillip!" Vik says, still wrapped in the blanket. "That was fast."

"Hey," I warn, "I said naked, not blanketed." Vik rolls his eyes and stands up, letting the blanket fall around him to reveal his own 45-degree sundial casting shadows on his belly. Kasha is only sporting a semi at this point, though Matty's own has braced itself against his abs in a full-on boner. I continue, "All right, boys, what do you say we show Sean what we've 'discovered,' eh? Sean, sit back down on the bed."

I guide Sean back to where he was sitting before, legs hanging off the edge of the side of the bed. I straddle him just far enough to where I'm not being rude with my dick, and put my hands on his shoulders again. He says, "So what are you planauuuugggghhhhh--" as his words are drowned out by another phenomenal moan. This boy needs to record for porn soundtracks.

The twins start giggling again, and I see one whisper to another. Matty starts slowly moving his palm up and down the underside of his little pole, watching the fun. I dig my thumbs in again, watching Sean's head roll and imagining the look of sheer bliss on his face as he moans out his pleasure. Suddenly, I see the twins converge on Sean, both moving up to between his legs, spreading them slightly more open so they can both fit.

Curious, I say, "Sean, sorry about the boner, but I need to get a little closer here," and scoot inward to rest my dick on his spine. He doesn't flinch or make any comment other than his typical array of grunts--that is, until I push my fingers in underneath his collarbone.

"OH GOD," he exhales, letting his head back to rest on my shoulder. I look down to see that he has perked up quite a bit; apparently, he's really into it. He looks to be a decent length, maybe a bit over 5 inches, a good bit of the way into his development. He has a small, dark bush of curly pubes at the base of his hairless balls, and his dick actually curves upward moderately, just enough to hit the good spots during sex. His head pokes out of his foreskin about halfway when he's completely hard. I won't lie and say I don't want to sit on that.

The twins look at me from between his legs and smile evilly before taking their tongues to both sides of Sean's nutsack, slowly licking up his shaft to the head. As soon as they start that, his eyes fling open and he gasps, "Whoa what are you do-ohh..." His words are once again cut off by his pleasure, which is not only hilarious, it's fucking hot. The twins giggle over their control of the situation and keep licking, one of them always going across the top of the dick to lick off the copious pre-cum that Sean keeps dribbling. Matty is watching, still slowly rubbing himself.

"Hey, Matty, why don't you come over here?" I beckon with my head, indicating the side that Sean's head isn't occupying. Matty comes over and stands up on the bed, dick right where it needs to be for me to lick the whole thing. As I do, he lets out the cutest moan (I'm biased, though, as we all know) and steadies himself with his hands on my head. I, personally, am in Heaven here: cute boy with dick in my face, cute boy moaning under my hands, cute boys licking his dick for me to watch out of the side of my vision...this is fucking great. Somehow, I've actually managed not to blow my load already all over Sean's back, but I can't guarantee that for long if this keeps up.

Funny enough, it doesn't keep up for much longer. Sean suddenly stops moaning to say, "Unnnhhh--oh God stop stop stop--" as he lurches forward in the throes of an orgasm. He starts blasting cum, which lands entirely all over the face of the one twin who was originally licking his pre-cum. Three spurts and a few dribbles later, he's breathing like he ran a marathon.

The messy-faced twin cries out, "IT WENT IN MY NOSE!" and jerks back, trying to blow out the cum from his right nostril. The other twin screeches in laughter, far too busy laughing to help him out. Matty sits down to avoid falling over laughing, and even I'm snorting at the ridiculousness.

Sean looks at him with glassy eyes and says, "Man, I'm sorry! I tried to say--I'm so sorry!"

The cummy twin, while picking his nose and blowing it, starts laughing, as well. "Ewwwww!" he cries out through his giggles.

After Sean gets over the embarrassment of having nose-douched the twin, he says, "Holy God that was amazing. I've never felt that good. Ever."

I pat him on the back. "I told you we knew what we were doing. Well, except for the cum-snorting."

The clean twin laughs even harder while the other gives me a dirty look (though still with a smile). The clean one says, "Well, Vik, maybe your nose will get pregnant!"

"Shut up," Vik snaps back. He picks some more cum out of his nose and wipes it on Kasha's chest, who promptly squeals in horror, making us all laugh even more.

Matty interrupts, "Okay, okay, my turn!" and lies down on his back on the bed.

"But I can't massage you if you lie down like that--"

"I want you to do me!" His face is full of conviction.

I raise an eyebrow involuntarily. "Are...you sure?" He nods. I smile and rotate him to where his ass is hanging just off the bed. "First, you need some attention," I mention, noticing that his cock is softening a bit. I start at the base of his beautifully tight sack, covering every inch of his boyhood with my tongue on the way up. I pop the shaft in my mouth and lick it like I'm trying to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, which sends him squirming and moaning. For his benefit, I stay away from the top side of it since I don't really want this to turn into a sprinkler party, if you catch my drift.

Sean has since stood up from the bed, taking a pair of black briefs out of his pants and using them to clean up his junk. I catch a glimpse of the twins, where Vik is wiping the cum off his face with his finger and licking it; Kasha actually does the same once, trying the cum off of Vik's face and making a bitter, pucker-lipped face. "It tastes funny," he comments. Those two are something else, I swear.

After they're done, Vik says, "Hey Kasha, let's try what they're doing!"

"Uh, okay." Kasha watches us for a second while Vik gets up on the bed, facing the same way Matty is. Kasha sidles up between his legs like I have with Matty, and starts licking Vik's boner in rhythm with my own movements. Vik and Matty start moaning almost in unison, which of course makes Kasha and me snicker. It's just so ridiculous--and hot--that it's hard not to. Uh, no pun intended.

After I've gone at Matty for a while, I spit in my hand and rub it on my own eager, dripping member (who has left a small puddle of pre-cum on Matty's thankfully dark carpet). I take one wet finger and slowly put it up to Matty's hole, moving it in and watching Matty's response. He cringes a little bit, clenching his hole tight. I wait for him to calm down and go in just a little bit more, and find it a tad bit easier than the last time. "Is this okay, Matty?" I ask, concerned.

"Yeah. Just go ahead," he says. I look over to see Kasha fingering Vik, who seems to be enjoying it decently.

I stand up and position Matty so that I can properly fuck him, and put my dick to his pucker. I drop a bit of extra spit on it for lube and push lightly; there is no give. He's tightened up more than before I fingered him. I push again lightly, letting him adjust to the pressure, but there is no give--if anything, he puckers up more tightly. I look to see him grimacing, tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh, Matty, baby, no," I say, immediately hopping up on the bed to straddle him and look in his eyes. He looks up at me, on the verge of sobbing, and I put my hand on the side of his face. "Don't do something you don't want to do just for me. It's okay if you're not ready for that."

"But I want to," he whines. The twins stop, both looking over in concern and a bit of confusion. Sean is sitting at the head of the bed watching, still slightly hard, but his expression says very little.

I caress his cheek. "We will, we will. Just not right now, okay? It's okay." I think for a moment and say, "I have an idea. Instead of that, let's try this." I get between his legs again, but this time, I assault his hole with my tongue, licking up and down, and occasionally pushing it in against his straining muscles.

As expected, he gasps and moans a bit, breathing, "Whoa, that feels gooooood."

Kasha seems a bit disgusted by the idea at first, but decides to give it a try on Vik, who immediately squirms on the bed in surprise. "What are you doing?!" Vik squeals, but by the second lick, he immediately relaxes into it. "Bozhe moi ("My God!"), that is good!" Kasha looks at me with a knowing smile, which I return before going back to my intended target.

As both boys are in the arms of ecstasy from the rim jobs, Sean repositions himself between the two of them to where he can sit cross-legged, facing them, and he takes both of their peckers and starts messing with them, half jacking them off, and half just playing around a bit, exploring them. I get the feeling these may be the first penises he's messed with other than his own. He seems more curious than passionate about it, but what better way to find out what you like than a "try before you bi" sort of situation?

I keep going at Matty's hole with a passion--I actually really enjoy rimming and am not quite sure why I don't do it to people more often--while Kasha decides to change gears: he spits into his hand, rubs it all over his dick, and prepares to start fucking his brother. Holy shit, am I just about to watch full-on twincest while rimming out my boyfriend? Be still, my raging heart--and boner--because I think this is about to be one of the hottest moments of my childhood.

As soon as Vik feels Kasha's penis on his hole, his head jerks up to confirm what's going on. They make eye contact for a second or two, but Sean finds a good spot while moving his fingers around on Vik's rod, putting Vik's head back on the bed as his muscles go weak with pleasure. Kasha slowly slides in, moving back and forth with his head just barely in at first. He puts more spit on the shaft and slides the rest in; when he buries it to the hilt, Vik gasps. "Oh, wow, you hit something."

Kasha asks, "Sorry--did it hurt?"

Vik shakes his head. "No. It was weird. Kinda good."

"Oh," he responds, pushing in again. "Like this?"

After a shuddering breath, Vik sighs, "Yeah, that."

Kasha just smiles and does it again, watching Vik's face, before resuming a normal pace for fucking. Every time he buries it to the hilt, he hits just hard enough to make Vik's dick bounce a bit in Sean's fingers. Interestingly, he seems to be dribbling a bit of pre-cum this time; I think he was still completely dry the last time we did anything a few weeks back. It's funny how fast these things can happen.

Vik seems to notice as well, at least when the first drop hits his belly. He looks up, wipes the droplet off his skin, and tastes it. Seemingly satisfied with whatever results he was looking for, he puts his head back and loses himself in the moment.

Matty, meanwhile, has been steadily dripping from his own member, making a mess on Sean's fingers. Sadly, my tongue starts to get a bit tired--I really need to get more practice--so I stand up and go over to Matty's glassy-eyed face and plant a long kiss on it. "How was that?" I ask. Matty's only response is a moan, but it's one that I understand full well. I turn my attention to the twins and Sean, who has since given up on jacking off the boys; he seems more interested in exploring than in completing the job. Vik doesn't seem to need the help, though: after pounding his dick furiously for a few more moments, he breathily whispers something in Russian as his dick starts throbbing, pumping a few more clear drops down his hand and onto his abs. Kasha looks down, most likely fascinated with Vik's sphincter grabbing his dick over and over again, and he starts to thrust faster; within a few seconds, he grabs Kasha's hips forcefully and buries himself completely, throwing his head back and twitching in orgasmic bliss.

All this pleasure is definitely enough to light the fire in my own groin. I ask Matty, "Do you want to swallow my cum?" as I offer my dick to him.

He sits up and puts my head in his mouth, starting to lick at it like last time. I help it along with a few jacks, but it takes almost no time before I clench up. "Here it c-comes--" I barely squeeze out before my body is overtaken by bliss, shooting my wad straight at the back of Matty's throat. It feels like I empty a gallon of cum into his mouth, but however much it is, he doesn't dribble a drop of it. Spent, I catch my breath a moment, falling back on my knees, light-headed. "God damn, Matty. That was incredible."

Matty smiles. "Well, I learned from you, so..." He trails off, wiping the remainder of cum off the head of my dick and tasting it. "Yours tastes different than mine."

"That's partly because mine has sperm in it, and partly because of what we eat."

"What you eat makes it taste different?" Vik asks.

"Yeah."

"How...do you even know that?"

I smirk. "I know a whole lot of things."

"That's weird," Matty remarks. "Why does--WHOA!" Matty's next question is cut off by me pushing him backwards back onto the bed.

"More important: Birthday Boy hasn't had his present yet. Vik, Kasha--Sean, too, if you want to join--we should give Matty a present he won't forget!" With that, I take my position back between Matty's legs and start rimming him again. Kasha finally pulls himself out of Vik and comes over, jacking Matty off while Kasha wipes himself off with a spare sock.

Matty breathes, "That's awesome..." as Vik and I tag-team him. Sean watches with interest, but doesn't join in. A few moments later, Vik decides to try giving Matty a blowjob; it seems that Matty is into it, at least until Vik lets out a piercing shriek with Matty's dick still in his mouth.

Vik's head shoots up, and he looks behind him to see Kasha there again. "That scared me!" he snaps. "At least, you know, SAY something first!"

We all laugh a bit at the silliness, but Kasha decides to join in on our multi-pronged assault on Matty. The twins do their two-sided assault on Matty's privates like they did Sean while I go to town on his little pucker (We should trademark this, call it something like the Pecker-Pucker Licker attack. ...eh, I'll work on it later).

Eventually, I can feel Matty's sphincter become much more relaxed under the constant attention. I decide that, since he really wants to try something, it might be best to work my way in before he gets a chance to react and close up. So, even though my tongue is getting tired again, I start working it in a little bit each time I lick his hole. Surprisingly, he doesn't make any attempts to squirm away or clench shut, so I'm guessing it's time. I get a finger nice and wet and slowly push it into his butt. It finds its way in a short bit before he does clench up with a quick gasp.

"You okay with this?" I ask.

Matty lifts his head to where he can see over the twins' ministrations. "Yeah, go ahead," he says breathily.

I work my finger in to the second knuckle fairly easily, albeit slowly; if I move too quickly, he clenches too tightly to prevent it from hurting him. I slowly move it in and out, finding the constant attention I've given his hole to have left it well lubed. He actually does begin to relax to it, even moving a bit to allow better access. Color me impressed.

Well, since we've gone this far, I suppose it's time for the next small step. "Matty, do you know what the prostate is?"

"No?" he says, almost questioningly.

"It's an organ that does two things: helps make semen, and feels really good when you do this." I punctuate the sentence by curling my finger upward toward his prostate, finding it quickly and rubbing against it.

"Ahhh--whoa, hey stop, you're gonna make me pee!" He props himself up on his elbows to look over at me with worried eyes.

"It might feel a bit like that," I note, "but it's a different thing entirely. Besides, normally you can't feel things this strong in your bladder, can you?" I push against his prostate again, massaging it with the pad of my finger.

He throws his head back, eyes rolling in ecstasy. "It just feels...just...wow." He falls back again, his sphincter relaxing to allow the rest of my finger in. I nod to the twins and get them to move aside as I plant my mouth on Matty's dick. It takes very little time at all of me sucking and fingering him before I hear, "Oh, I, I'm close--!" A second later I can feel the throbbing through both his spasming sphincter and throbbing pecker as he dribbles semen into my mouth.

After he finishes twitching and takes a few breaths, I swallow the little bit he produces and say, "Happy birthday!"

Matty just looks at all of us with wild eyes and a gratified smile. "Holy cow, y'all. That was awesome."

"Well, good. I wanted your birthday to be awesome, and I didn't have enough money to buy you a present." I mean, I still do have enough money for movie stuff, but it's still not enough for a good console game. Ah well.

The boys all take a moment to go clean off; I'm fairly good myself, but the twins both go take a quick shower, followed by Matty and then Sean, who just uses the tub faucet to wash the junk off his junk, as it were. Eventually, things devolve into small conversations and some more senseless bloodshed on 'Beyond Warfare.'

"Hey Vik," I say to the twin who isn't playing Matty on the game.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna mess around with one of Matty's diapers again? I think it's kinda fun."

He shrugs. "Eh, it was cool not to have to get up, but I still ended up making wet spots on my pants. I think they're dry now, though."

"Good," I say, confirming my suspicions. "I actually just needed to know which twin you were. Can I talk to you outside?"

He furrows his brow, confused. "Wait, what?" Realizing he blew his cover, he rolls his eyes and sighs.

I nod my head toward the door. "Come on. It'll be quick." He follows me out to the backyard, where the temperature is higher than I'd like it to be and the humidity is thick enough to gargle. "Couple of things real quick. First off, why is Vik so sensitive about the pee thing?"

Kasha looks me straight in the eyes for a long moment. "He...is just really embarrassing--it's embarrassing when he..." He sighs, starting over. "He sometimes peed his pants when we was younger. It wasn't like every day or whatever, but like in second grade, he still did sometimes. I think is because...never mind. Anyway, Father didn't like it when he peed, and spanked him. Father is...very strict sometimes. Vik...yeah. Vik doesn't want to make Father angry or disappoint." He shrugs. "Don't tell him I said anything. He would be so mad forever."

I smile compassionately. "I get it. I won't say a thing. But that explains why you switched places with him after he had the laughing accident."

Kasha frowns. "But how did you guess...? Nobody can tell, usually, even--"

My smile breaks into a knowing grin. "Kasha. I've known you two long enough to see the differences. First, Vik made the mistake of telling you to take 'his' pants off; second, you were both turning your heads when people called either name sometimes; and third, you're way crazier than he is."

Kasha just giggles at the last part. "You're good. Nobody else can tell."

I add, "Also, 'Vik' seemed all of a sudden way too chipper to be in a pair of wet pants when 'he' came back out of the bathroom."

"Chipper?"

"Happy. Cheerful." Right. Talk like a 12-year-old. At least, as much as I can remember to. "So if that happens again, remember to act sad for a while longer. All in all, though, you two aren't too bad at being each other. How often do you practice that at school?"

He smiles. "Enough."

I bark out a quick laugh and start heading back to the door. "Thanks for talking."

"Hey," he says, motioning me to stay.

"Yeah?"

"So you and Matty..."

I stop him before he can go any farther. "I'll talk about that inside. It's nasty out here."

We go back into the bedroom, where only Sean even notices our re-entry from his position on the bed. The other two are locked in mortal conflict still, though Vik finally gets the upper hand and snipes Matty from a guarded hiding spot. "HA! EAT BULLETS!"

Matty cries, "Nooooooo!" but his smile betrays his actual feelings about it. "Aw. Good shot!"

"Attention all people in the room," I announce, getting all eyes on me. "I have an important announcement to make, if Matty will let me." I look at Matty for approval. He takes a moment to register what I'm talking about, but when he gets it, he smiles and nods for me to continue. "I know some of you figured it out a while ago, but Matty and I are officially going out."

This starts a cacophony of sound, for which I have to remind everyone that a certain mom is still sleeping, if heavily. Kasha says emphatically, "I KNEW it!"

Matty just giggles. "Were we that obvious?"

Kasha adopts a Sherlock Holmes-esque posture and regal air, replying in a faux-British accent, "I have ways of finding things out."

Sean smiles but asks bluntly, "So is everyone here gay?"

Ugh, way to steal the thunder, Sean. Vik quickly and strongly denies that he is gay, while Kasha says, "I think maybe I am bi."

Matty admits, "I don't know really, but I know that I really like Phillip." He walks over to me and takes my hand. "A lot."

We stare into each other's eyes in a pukingly sweet moment. I say to everyone else (Sean in particular), "What matters is that I'm gay for Matty. He does make me happy, after all." With Vik moaning over how bad my pun was, I take Matty's other hand and lean in for a kiss. As we do, Kasha starts quietly cheering and clapping, leading the other boys in a round of applause.

"I think you two make a good couple," Kasha proclaims.

"I'd like to think so." I hold Matty's hands a moment long before Kasha abruptly changes the subject back.

"So what about you, Sean? What do you like?"

"What do you mean, 'What do I like?' As in if I'm gay or not?"

"Yeah," Kasha responds with a tone of 'Duh...' in his voice.

Sean thinks about it and shrugs. "Straight, as far as I can tell. I mean, you guys are the first, y'know, 'messing around' that I've done really, but I definitely like girls and don't think I like guys that way."

"You liked us," Kasha says seductively. Vik glances sidelong at Kasha before rolling his eyes.

I butt in, "He liked how it felt, sure, but he doesn't--he's not attracted to you. No offense."

"Right," Sean says with a sheepish half-smile. "It was maybe the best thing I've ever felt, but that doesn't mean...I mean, anyone could do that and..." he stops, unsure of how to word things and turning a bit red in the process. "Point is, I'm straight. Nothing against being gay or bi or anything, I really don't care. My parents would go nuts, but I don't really care. They're just...old-fashioned, and very religious." He rolls his eyes a bit in perhaps the most teen-aged gesture I've seen him make, very out-of-place from his normal placidity.

Well. At least now I don't have to feel jealous about something that I shouldn't have been jealous about in the first place. So there--shut up, emotions. He's straight, and you can chill the fuck out, Jealousy. "Well," I say after a short pause, "at least you're open-minded. Life is so much more interesting if you're willing to let it be." He shrugs, but says nothing.

Vik looks as if about to say something, but gets stuck in a massive yawn; Kasha picks up the slack and asks, "Hey Phillip, speaking of religion, I wanted to ask earlier: What do you believe in, if not God and Jesus?"

"I believe it's about time for bed, for one."

"Come on...you know what I mean."

"I do know what you mean."

"Well?" Kasha raises his eyebrows impatiently.

Well, indeed. This is a question I find almost impossible to answer. "I believe in something more, but I don't know what it is."

Kasha makes an unimpressed face. "Really?" he asks, deadpan. "That's it?"

"That's it."

"Like...a god? Lots of gods?"

"Something more. Something--maybe not a someone--but something that I can't understand."

"Even you? But you're like super smart!"

Now it's my turn to raise an eyebrow. "Hello? Remedial classes?" Matty gives me a look, and I add, "Yours is a special case. You know it has nothing to do with your level."

Sean asks with confusion in his eyes, "Why aren't you in the advanced-level classes? You're very intelligent."

I shrug. "Eh, call it fate."

"So you do believe in something," Kasha points out. "You believe in fate."

"I believe that fate is what I make it."

Kasha squints at me. "You make it sound like you have powers over fate or something."

I shrug. "Doesn't everyone? Maybe some more than others, but still, everyone can make choices." I pause for a yawn. "All right, guys, it's sleepy time."

The amount of contagious yawning going around the room confirms that everyone agrees with this; after everyone does their nightly routines, the twins each caterpillar up in their sleeping bags, Sean uses an extra blanket and the pillow he brought to make a bed on the floor, and Matty hops into his bed. Not wanting to impose, I head toward the couch, but Matty grabs my hand as I pass by. "Where are you going?" he asks innocently.

"To the couch? I didn't want to take up extra room--"

"Phillip, get your butt in this bed right now," he commands in his most parental voice.

"Yes sir," I say in a feigned glum tone as I slide under the covers. I get situated close to him, close enough to feel his breath, and can't avoid the massive smile he puts on my face. "Happy birthday," I say again.

"Thanks. It totally was," he says with a grin. He unburies one of his hands from the covers and lightly brushes my cheek with his fingers, sending goosebumps down my neck. We stare at each other silently for a good bit, exploring each other's face with our eyes. Matty breaks eye contact to stare into 'mindspace' for a moment, that look people get when they're organizing their thoughts; when he finishes, he asks, "Phillip?"

"Yeah?" I reply in an almost-whisper.

"You're a really good friend." I can see he's not done with his statement, so I wait for him to continue. "I'm also really happy that you're--that we're boyfriends." Another pause, this one longer than the last.

"Me too," I say, though it's clear by his furrowed brow that he's still forming the next sentence.

"But...I almost feel like you're, I dunno, different than just a boyfriend. A-and not just because you're y'know, 'magical,' but..." He looks away. "Never mind--it's really weird."

"What is it?" I ask, prodding for more. "I promise I won't think it's weird. I've heard weirder things than you can even dream of."

Matty chews his cheek for a moment. "I kinda almost feel like...like you're there for me like my dad used to be." He quickly adds, "But not like when you met him or anything, like when, when I was younger. But I don't think you're, like, my dad or anything--that's weird. Just...rrgh! I hate my brain sometimes. I can't say anything right."

I put my hand on his cheek, enjoying the softness of his skin. "It's fine. Emotions are really hard to put words to, sometimes." I trail my fingers down his face and land my hand on his, gently squeezing it for reassurance. "If you figure it out later, you can tell me then. It might be easier with some sleep, yeah?"

He casts his eyes downward. "Yeah, I guess. ...Um, could you hold me again like you did that night in the sleeping bag?"

I look to the side sheepishly. "As long as you're okay with my dick poking your back...I can't stay soft when I'm that close to you."

As if to confirm my firmness, he drifts his hand down to between us, where he finds a pole in the way. He giggles and says, "Again?"

I roll my eyes. "Always, especially around you." I adjust my position slightly, and upon moving, I hear the faint crinkle of the mattress protector. "Oh, did you..." I drop to a whisper to continue, "Did you need a diaper for the night?"

Matty looks aside ruefully, but then whispers excitedly, "Actually, I haven't at all this week! Oh, and um, if I do, you can just, y'know..." he uses a finger to simulate a clock winding backwards.

I shrug and nod. Without another word, he flips himself around and tucks himself into me, my dick braced against his tail bone. I swear, I wouldn't be surprised if he started purring. I wrap an arm around him and hold him close, flooded with feelings that remind me why, even though I'm interminably alive, I haven't yet given up on living.

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