Root Beer Boys 3

This story is dedicated to Bill, AJ, Driver and Squirt.

The Root Beer Boys

By Dan

Chapter Three

The next several weeks were different. I mean, mom had to get used to having a son whose father was my dad but whose mother was a lady dad had an affair with. Then Wayne had to get used to having a new mom. It seemed easier for him than I thought it would be, almost like he hadn't liked his real mom very much. He sure seemed to like all the attention my mom poured out on him anyway. My dad was in stink city. It was obvious, sometimes, that he was making a real effort to show me that Wayne wasn't taking my place, but at the same time, he was giving Wayne a lot of special attention.

One night, we were all sitting in the TV room watching a movie and Wayne crawled up into dad's lap. That had always been reserved for me before "the kid" showed up. Actually, I was feeling a bit jealous until I started listening to their conversation rather than the TV.

They were sitting there with Wayne looking so small in dad's lap. Of course, that wasn't difficult. He was only nine and barely four feet tall, and dad was 6' 2" and stocky. Dad had his arms wrapped around his son and was rubbing his chin in Wayne's hair. I saw Wayne turn and whisper something in dad's ear, then I heard dad's answer.

"Wayne, I'm sorry I wasn't there before. I didn't know about you until they showed me your picture. Son, I swear I would have been there for you had I known. But you're here now, part of this family. And I promise you, you'll never be alone again."

I almost cried myself. I even got off the couch and went over to sit on the floor at dad's feet. I leaned against his leg and began running my hand up and down Wayne's jean covered leg, letting him know I was there for him too. Then I thought of something dad might do to make Wayne feel even more at home.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, squirt?"

"What's Wayne's nickname going to be?"

"What do mean, son?"

"Well, you call me Squirt. What are you going to call Wayne?"

"Gee, I hadn't thought of it yet. Let's see... how about kiddo?"

I just looked at Wayne to see how he felt about it. I could tell by the look on his face that he was pleased. He had been hearing dad call me squirt ever since he got here. Now he had a special name of his own.

"I like it," he said, giving dad another big hug.

As time went by, Wayne and I grew closer and closer. I think we both found out real quickly how nice it was to have a brother. I loved having him around with his laugh and his giggle which thrilled me so much I kept looking for ways to get him to laugh. I was always cracking jokes, just to make him giggle.

And I think he really looked up to me as his older brother. I know he seemed to latch onto me like he was afraid it wouldn't last. Fortunately all my friends liked him too, 'cause he hardly ever let me out of his sight. It was always "Andy & Wayne." In fact it got to the point where everybody just expected to see us together. If I was by myself when I saw somebody I knew, the first thing they'd do would be look around to see where Wayne was.

It got so bad everybody started calling us A&W for short. That was our neighborhood nickname for a long time until one day when all us guys got together for a sandlot football game. Everybody else was already there when Wayne and I showed up. As we were walking down the hill to the field Tommy Newberry hollered "Hey guys! Here comes A&W." Then Joey Stephens pops up and says, "Yeah! It's the Root Beer Boys!" And everybody about laughed themselves silly. From that moment on, we had a new nickname.

Wayne and I always seemed to be having little accidents. I remember one time we were about four blocks from home, just running for the sake of running. Actually I think he was chasing me. Being older and bigger, I could usually run faster than him. We were running down a hill, across the lawns of the houses on that street. It was pretty steep, and one house had this high retaining wall built to hold back the dirt between them and the neighbor on the high side.

It was about a 5 foot drop which I made just fine. But when Wayne jumped, I don't think he was really prepared for it. He landed wrong and the scream he let out when he hit just about scared me to death. When I looked back, he was all crumpled on the lawn holding his right leg. He was really crying hard, so I knew it must have hurt bad.

"What happened, Wayne?"

"I don't know! When I hit, my ankle just bent funny. God it hurts!"

"Do you think it's broken?"

"How should I know, butthead? Do I look like a freakin' doctor?"

I knew he was hurting for sure, then. I mean, Wayne never talked to me like that. Never!

"Well, we better get you home so mom can get you to a doctor. That looks bad."

"How?"

"I'll carry you on my back."

"Are you serious? It's a long way home."

"Serious as a heart attack."

It worked! He smiled through his tears and even giggled a little bit.

I turned around so he could get on me piggyback style. We had only gone about two blocks when I felt something warm on my back. Then I felt something like sweat running down into the crack of my butt. Wayne was crying again?

"What's wrong, Wayne?"

"I think I just pee'd my pants. I'm sorry, Andy. I just couldn't hold it. My ankle hurts so bad I wasn't even thinking about it."

"Don't worry about it, kiddo. It doesn't bother me. Mom can throw our clothes in the washing machine as soon as we get them off. Don't let it bother you."

"OK."

About a block later, he spoke again.

"Wayne?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind not calling me kiddo? That's dad's special name for me, and I like it that he's the only one that uses it. Even mom doesn't call me that."

It was cool that he was already calling her mom.

"Sure, sport. I understand. Dad's the only one who calls me Squirt, too."

"I like that, Andy, you calling me sport."

"Kewl!"

We made it home OK and mom called dad at work to come get us. We only had one car. While we waited for dad, I took Wayne to the bathroom and we got out of our wet clothes. I threw them out into the hall for mom to put in the washer while Wayne and I climbed in the tub for a quick bath.

For a kid who was real nervous about being naked in front of somebody, I was really getting into being naked with Wayne. I soaped him up real good with him sitting in front of me then had him stand up so I could wash his legs. We had to be real careful because of his bum foot. With him leaning on my shoulder for support, his little penis was awfully close to my face. It made me a little nervous when I felt mine start to get stiff. I didn't understand why. But I washed his crotch and even his butt crack real carefully, being careful not to squeeze his little acorns too hard.

When the doctor had examined Wayne's ankle and looked at the x-rays he took, he said it was just a sprain, but Wayne had to stay off that foot for a week. I had a lot of fun carrying him around on my back wherever we went. The Root Beer Boys became an even more popular name after that.

There was one other thing that happened that day that didn't mean much at the time. While we were sitting in the doctor's waiting room, two guys came out holding hands. I thought it was a bit strange, considering they looked to be about 20 years old. I mean, Wayne and I held hands all the time, but I'd never seen anybody that old doing it.

My dad took one look at them and said something mean.

"Faggots!" he said, kind of under his breath.

"Huh?" I said, looking up at him.

"Look at those two guys! Queer as three dollar bills!"

I suddenly realized that those guys were gay. Not a good introduction to my education on homosexuality.

Dad spent as much time with us as he could, but that wasn't a whole lot. His work schedule was pretty demanding, and he often had to work Saturdays and some evenings. But about once a month, he'd take time to tell Wayne and me stories. We'd go into his bedroom and lay down on our backs crossways on his and mom's double bed. Then he'd tell us a story about one thing or another.

He had about a half dozen of them. One was about a sand flea named Herman, another about two boys named Jimmy and Johnny and all the trouble they could get into. Another was about a French Canadian boy named Jacques who had to struggle through snow drifts to get to school and once had to dig a long tunnel through a drift just to get out of his house. Then there was the one about a guy named Frank. This guy could change size so in one story he crawled through gopher tunnels and in another he was a giant who lived in the clouds.

Anyway, the stories about Jacques were always real serious, sometimes even a bit scary. Dad was getting really wound up in one of those stories one night and hadn't noticed Wayne slip off the end of the bed. All of a sudden Wayne jumped up from the side of the bed right over dad's head and yelled "HAH!"

I about wet my pants! And I thought dad was going to have a heart attack. He screamed loud enough for mom to hear him. But by the time she had run in and turned on the lights, we were all laughing our heads off. Dad had grabbed Wayne and pulled him over on top of himself and was tickling the daylights out of him. I started to help, but they turned the tables on me and started tickling me. I was laughing so hard I really did wet my pants. Not bad enough to get the bed wet, but enough that I had to go change shorts.

When Wayne had been with us about a year, in fact it was just after his tenth birthday, we happened to be in the bathroom together. He was taking a bath and I had come in to sit on the john. As I sat there trying to poop, I looked over at Wayne lying on his back in the tub. His penis was lying there with all that extra skin at the end, and he seemed to be studying it.

For some reason I felt mine getting stiff as I looked at his. This kind of surprised me, 'cause it didn't get stiff all that often. I mean I was only 12. When Wayne saw me looking at him, he started to blush. Then his wiener started to wiggle. All of a sudden I realized he was getting a stiffy too. But as it got stiff, he started to whimper.

"What's the matter Wayne?"

"It hurts when it gets like this."

"Well, maybe you're supposed to move the skin back so it isn't so tight."

"I don't think so. I never tried."

"Want me to try it? See if it helps?"

He looked at me with those puppy dog eyes and just shook his head yes. So I wiped my butt and knelt down by the tub and reached out with both hands and grabbed his dick. I was surprised by my reaction. I could feel my own get real hard real fast, and it started to throb like crazy. His little sex finger felt neat. But as I tried to slide the skin back over the hard little head, he started to squirm and whimper.

"It hurts, Andy."

"OK, just hold on."

I stood up real quick and pulled my briefs up. But as I did, I noticed that Wayne was staring at my stiffy sticking straight out from my crotch. As I slid my underwear and shorts up I remember thinking that I kind of liked him looking at me that way.

I went and got dad and brought him in to show him the problem. I don't think Wayne was too happy with me since I hadn't warned him of what I was going to do. But dad got him calmed down pretty quickly. Then he explained all about circumcision and how some guys are and some aren't. He said he was and that's why I was, but evidently Wayne's mom hadn't cared about it.

He said he thought Wayne's skin might just naturally be too tight and might just need to be nipped somewhere, but Wayne said he wanted to look like me. So dad explained how painful it might be to be circumcised at his age and how it would probably itch like the dickens as it healed. I got Wayne to laugh at that.

"Oh, yeah, Wayne. I can see it now. Here we are up in front of the church singing with the choir and you're standing there in front of God and everybody scratching your crotch. Woooweee!"

We all laughed and dad told us a joke about a boy Wayne's age who had gone to school with the same problem. When the teacher noticed him scratching himself, she sent him to the principal's office. When he came back, his peter was sticking out through his zipper. The teach yelled "What do you think you're doing?" And the boy answered, "The principal said if I could stick it out until lunch, I could go home!"

That made Wayne laugh, too.

So, the next day, dad took Wayne to the doctor who agreed to do the job right then. I got to go with them. I think it was good that we had a Jewish doctor, 'cause he took time to explain the scriptural significance of circumcision and then showed us the special tool that Jewish men use to do the job. They wouldn't let me stay and watch, but he showed me the tool. Man, was it sharp!

Wayne said the cutting didn't really hurt that much. It was what happened afterwards that hurt. But you know what surprised me? When dad came out with Wayne, the doctor called me into his office by myself.

"Now Andy, I need to tell you something and ask your help. I don't want you to think that I'm making any assumptions, but I don't want you and Wayne doing anything that might make his penis get stiff. It might do that all by itself, and that will be painful enough. But you and he need to avoid any playing around that might cause him to get an erection. OK?"

That's the first time I had ever heard the word erection. I always called it a hardon or a stiffy. What the doctor said made me blush, but he was really neat about it. I told him OK and we left.

When the bandages finally came off, Wayne made a point of showing me his penis. He seemed to be really proud of the fact that he looked like me now, and even insisted that I drop my drawers and compare dicks. That was the second time we got hard looking at each other. But this time was better because it didn't hurt him. But it made me feel funny inside. I didn't know why, it just did.

That little operation seemed to make the two of us even closer than we had been before. We started to dress more alike and think alike. You remember the character in the TV show M*A*S*H whose name was Radar? Remember how he could always finish other people's sentences? Well, Wayne and I got to the point where we were doing the same thing, not with other people, just with each other.

... to be continued.

Comments are always welcome at micrometer69@hotmail.com and are usually answered. Flames are ignored for the most part. If you've sent flames before, don't waste your time. I've blocked your address.