Christ First Con Chapter 3
Disclaimer: This story contains graphic depictions of sex between males over the age of majority. Characters in this story are fictional, real-life resemblances are purely coincidental. I tried to remove any reference to any existing real-life event or group, but please let me know if you feel I have missed anything.
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Chapter 3: 42171 McLaren Formula 1™ Race Car
As we step out of the mall, sunlight floods over us. I can feel a hint of warmth on my face, the promise of a great start to the weekend. Peyton flings his shopping bags into the back seat of my truck with an easy grin, but just as he swings himself into the passenger seat, his expression falls.
“Aw, shoot,” he mutters, his face wrinkling in frustration.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I glance at him, feeling a small tug of concern. “Everything okay?”
Peyton sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah. I just forgot to pack batteries for the Technic Hub in my Tacoma.” He looks at me, eyes a little frantic. “Do you think I should run back inside and grab some?”
“Just some regular batteries? Why don’t we just run to my house, it’s only 20 minutes away from here and it’s not even 10:30, so we have plenty of time to get back for the Intro to Mile High Brickspo session at 1 PM. I can also give you a quick tour of my collection at home.”
“What’s there to learn at those intro sessions?” Peyton snorts. “Just don’t say LEGOS and wear deodorant, pretty basic stuff. You said Adam is on the staff if you need anything else, and sure, I’d love to see your place.”
I nod and chuckle as we exit the parking lot, even my mom and dad know the correct plural form of LEGO. Having a veteran LEGO Con attendee like Peyton by my side for the weekend is great for a newbie like me with Asperger’s, even if we weren’t sleeping together.
As we pull up to my house and park in my driveway, Peyton seems impressed. I live in a modest-looking ranch-style home built in a newer subdivision. “Dang,” Peyton looks at me. “What do your parents do for a living again?”
“My dad is a Service Manager at the Ford dealership and my mom is a Financial Controller.” I shrug. “They’re both at work, and it’s a Friday, so my sister is in school as well, so no one is home.”
“You haven’t mentioned a sister. Hopefully, she doesn’t beat you up like my big sisters!!”
I laugh, fumbling with my keys. “Nah, Hailey’s younger than me. But she was a brat when we were kids. One time, she got into my room and wrecked my International Space Station set.” I groan, opening the door and wincing at the memory.
“Oh, dude, that must have sucked,” he says, his face showing real sympathy as he follows me inside – only to be met by the rapid patter of Peanut, my mom’s overly friendly Boston Terrier, who immediately runs circles around Peyton, barking cheerfully at his shoes.
“Peanut, chill!” I apologize, sweeping her up before she can go for his laces. “She’s my mom’s dog, Peanut – she’s just super friendly.”
Peyton laughs, reaching out to rub her neck, instantly winning her over. “No worries. Hey, girl! I’ve got a Golden Retriever at home named Cooper, so I get it.”
My chest tightens a little as I watch him with her, somehow charmed by how naturally he seems to win everyone over. “All my stuff’s in the basement,” I say, clearing my throat and leading him downstairs. “Peanut’s not allowed down here, so make sure to close the door behind you.”
As he follows, Peyton tilts his head, his voice curious. “Not a dog guy?”
“Not really,” I admit with a slight chuckle. “Thankfully, Peanut’s well-behaved. I’m guessing having a Golden Retriever on a farm is a requirement?”
Peyton’s eyes brighten. “Yeah, you could say that. Cooper’s not just a dog; he’s my sidekick. Friendly, smart, and always ready to keep me on my toes.” He stops mid-step as he notices my drum set in the den, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Wait, do you get this whole basement to yourself?”
“For the most part,” I say, grinning as I point to my dad’s Coca-Cola collection over the wet bar. “Just my dad’s obsession with Coke memorabilia. Some of those are from my grandfather.”
Peyton laughs, walking over to my drum set. He grabs a pair of sticks, giving me a playful look. “You heard me singing in the shower—now it’s your turn. Show me what you do with these!” He hands me the drumsticks with an encouraging smile.
I feel a twinge of nerves but settle onto the drum stool with a shrug. “Just a heads-up—I don’t know any country.”
“Play whatever’s in your heart.” Peyton’s hands rest on my shoulders, and he gives them a quick, reassuring squeeze. Then, to my surprise, he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “I know you’ve still got it in you,” he whispers.
Taking a steadying breath, I pull up my Spotify app and scroll to my go-to playlist. Peyton chuckles when the Fall Out Boy album cover pops up on the screen. I hand him my phone, and he nods approvingly, turning up the volume.
I start with the first few bars of ‘Sugar We’re Going Down’, the bass drum resonating loudly against the basement walls. It’s a challenging song to play on the drums, with several different grooves and a lot of moving parts. Since no one else is home but the two of us, I feel uninhibited, making as much noise as I want. Peyton quickly gets into the song, turning up the volume to the max and holding the phone near my head.
The familiar beats flow through me as I pick up the rhythm, and I lose myself in the music. Each strike of the bass drum reverberates in my chest, and for a few moments, I'm reminded of all the times in my teenage years when I played all alone in this basement, but now there's a warm energy radiating from Peyton beside me. His laughter dances above my drumming, seamlessly merging with the melody.
“You’ve got some serious stick work, man!” Peyton shouts, his enthusiasm infectious as he moves to the beat, waving my phone like at a concert. For a minute, I feel like a rock star, the kind who could own any stage, just because of the way he’s looking at me.
I drum through the outro, my heartbeat syncing with each beat. When I finish, my breath is heavy, my hands tingling with adrenaline and the weight of putting everything I have into the music. The whole time, Peyton’s been cheering me on, his excitement like fuel to keep me going.
“That was incredible, Chris,” he says, his eyes shining as he hands my phone back. “Tell me you played more than just in high school!”
“Nope, just marching band, orchestra, and stuff like this at home. So, you want to see my room?” I get up from my drum stool and toss my sticks back into their holder.
His face lights up. “Hell yes!”
Peyton's jaw drops again as I open the door to my childhood bedroom. The top of the room is ringed with an LED light strip, and a Green Day poster adorns one wall with my gaming desk in one corner. The Titanic LEGO set I built over spring break sits on my dresser, and some smaller Speed Champion sets and custom Blockmania vehicles are displayed on a bookshelf. Opposite my gaming desk, I also have another workstation where a row of parts drawers hold my immediate needs when building LEGO.
He spots a photo frame on my desk and picks it up with a grin. “Is this you?” he asks, holding up the picture.
“Yeah, that’s when I was 10 at LEGOLAND Florida.” Ten-year-old me is practically beaming in the picture as I hold my newly acquired Creator Expert Mini Cooper against my chest in front of the admission gates. My then six-year-old sister isn’t as thrilled as she grasps a smaller Friends set.
“Aww little Chris, so adorable!” Peyton chuckles as he puts back the picture where he found it.
Feeling a little bold, I step closer and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Not as adorable as you look to me right now.”
Before I can pull back, Peyton slips his hand down to give me a squeeze through my cargo pants, his touch making me shiver. “Well, maybe big Chris needs a little help before we head back to the Con,” he says, his voice dropping low, sending a thrill up my spine.
I let out a soft moan and then nod yes, my breath catching as he turns my gaming chair around and motions for me to sit. As I do, he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands moving to the button of my pants with a confident grin.
I'm breathless as I watch him, the anticipation building in the dimly lit room. The soft glow of the LED lights casts a playful hue across his face, highlighting his focused expression. A thrill runs through me—I can’t quite believe we’re doing this here, in my childhood space where countless hours were spent building LEGO sets or gaming alone. I finally have brought home the one piece I have desired the most, someone to complete me and put up with my eccentric behavior.
After he pulls off my pants, Peyton looks up at me again. I flash an approving smile and pull his hands up to the waistband of my gray Russell Performance boxer briefs. Peyton tucks his hands into them, then slowly rolls them off my sweaty body to expose my throbbing cock.
I'm gasping at the sudden coolness of the air against my skin as Peyton’s fingers dance along my thighs, teasingly brushing against my sensitive spots. His eyes are bright with desire, and I can see the excitement swelling within him as he leans closer, letting his warm breath caress me.
“Now let’s see how well I can play this fine instrument,” he whispers, a playful challenge in his tone. Then, without another word, he wraps his warm lips around me, sending electric shocks coursing through my body. My hands instinctively grab the armrests of the chair as I arch my back, lost in a haze of pleasure.
I watch as Peyton gets lost in task, his eyes close as he bobs his head up and down over my cock. It’s mesmerizing to watch him as he keeps his focus, sending me closer to the point of no return.
I'm pulled deeper into the moment, every flick of his tongue igniting a spark within me. The way he moves—deliberate yet instinctive—feels as if he’s playing a rhythm only he can hear. I can barely contain the moans spilling from my lips, it’s so intense, and my chair creaks louder as we reach a new level of vigor.
Peyton's hands grip my thighs, holding me steady as he shifts his technique, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking me fully in his mouth once again. The heat envelops me, and I lose track of everything outside this perfect bubble we’ve created.
“Peyton,” I gasp, my voice thick with longing. I want to hold him close, to pull him up and kiss him feverishly, but I’m trapped in this chair by pleasure and anticipation. Instead, I tangle my fingers in his hair, urging him to continue as waves of ecstasy wash over me.
I can’t handle much more of this and my palms push his head down deeper than before. Peyton continues to deep-throat me until I can’t contain it any longer. My hips spasm upwards and I moan “Ohhhhh fuck!” as I unleash a hot torrent of cum into the back of Peyton’s mouth.
He gulps my spunk down and slowly pulls away with my wet dick flopping out of Peyton’s mouth. After Peyton catches his breath, he wipes off his lips and gives me the sweetest smile. “Guess we’re even now Chris.” he laughs.
“Mhmm, that was incredible.” I gasp. “Can we just rest in bed to cuddle for a bit? I don’t care if we miss that first session like you said.” My voice softens as I say it, realizing how rare it is for me to feel this… complete.
Peyton grins, a little tired but equally at peace. “Sure thing.” He stands up, sliding his jeans off in one smooth motion, while I find my underwear and slip them on. We crawl into my bed together, his body fitting against mine in a way that feels like it was always meant to be.
As I lay in the quiet glow of what just happened, there’s a strange and wonderful peace blooming in me, something I’ve never felt before. I’m not out to anyone in my family, and yet, lying here with Peyton, all of that fear seems miles away. This feels natural, like this is exactly where we belong. I find myself running my fingers through his hair as he nestles his head into my shoulder, his breaths falling into the same rhythm as my heartbeat. He’s amazing, and he thinks I’m amazing too. Have we really found this kind of connection in just over a day? I feel a pang in my chest, knowing this might only last through the weekend, and the thought makes my eyes sting.
I sigh, looking at Peyton’s peaceful face, his eyelashes fluttering as he closes his eyes. I don’t want him to fall asleep just yet, so I keep stroking his hair, savoring every moment. My gaze drifts toward my closet. “You know, since we came here, you can borrow whatever you want,” I chuckle softly, feeling the gentle rise and fall of my chest against him. “Didn’t have to buy those shorts at the mall.”
He smiles, eyes still closed. “Needed new shorts anyway, but maybe I’ll grab something to sleep in—since it seems you’ve claimed mine for the night.”
“Whatever you want. Hopefully, my stuff fits. I just wish we could stay here forever like this.” I say as my eyes start to close.
He hums in agreement but then yawns. “We did pay $400 to hang out with other AFOLs at the Con, remember?”
“True,” I murmur, but his warmth is lulling me back to sleep.
A distant voice shatters my peace. “Chris???” Someone’s shouting from upstairs, and my stomach lurches. I blink, seeing Peyton beside me, and in a rush, I realize that we left my bedroom door open. Panic floods through me.
I quickly shake Peyton awake and scramble over his body to look for my pants. Peyton awakens to see me quickly slipping on my pants and takes the hint he should follow too.
“Chris, I saw your truck in the driveway, you in there? Whose shoes are those?” My sister Hailey yells, her voice getting closer as she descends the basement stairs.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I call outside with a grumble.
I shake Peyton awake and scramble to find my pants. His eyes widen, and he quickly pulls on his clothes, though he barely has his jeans pulled up before Hailey steps into view.
“What are you doing at home, I thought you were gone all weekend, and who are you?” she demands, looking at Peyton.
“Just a LEGO friend.” I shrug and confront her at my door. “I took Peyton home so he could borrow something for his MOC and look at my collection. What are you doing at home?”
“Forgot something for my presentation in 6th period.” Hailey rushes past me into my room.
“Hey! Did I say you could come in here?” I raise my voice.
Hailey ignores me, her eyes scanning the room as if seeking more clues to unravel my unexpected presence at home with a stranger. “Relax Chris, this is probably the most people that have ever been in your room,” she says, a hint of empathy breaking through her inquisitive tone. Hailey and I are almost complete opposites regarding our personalities. She’s an extrovert and has had boys in her room since middle school. Hailey is right in that I’ve never had any friends over till now.
“Well, whatever, you need for your presentation isn’t down here.” I insist, trying to keep my voice steady while feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I move again to block her view of Peyton, who is awkwardly pulling his shirt down over his exposed midriff.
“Just looking around, you didn’t even show me when you finished that Titanic.” she continues, a smirk creeping onto her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever met one of your friends, do you go to CU too?”
Peyton shoots me a panicked look, and I can’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness. “Hailey, can you just—um—give us a minute ?” I say, my words coming out more desperate than I intended.
Hailey shakes her head. “Fine Chris, I have class in 20 minutes. I’ll see you again tonight, Mom and Dad are dragging me out there to see you even though it’s a Friday night. I guess you wouldn’t understand.”
“Hailey, I’m in college, just because I’m on the spectrum, that doesn’t mean I’m a dumbass. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” I turn Hailey around, trying to usher her out of my room. Shutting the door behind her when she exits, I listen to Hailey go back up the steps, then join Peyton sitting on my bed.
Peyton takes my hand and looks me straight in the eye. “You aren’t out to your family? Do you think she suspected something and would tell your parents?”
“No, I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything to tell them about. Despite what it looks like Hailey wouldn’t do that to me. I’ve kept quiet about her secrets to my parents, I caught her sneaking out of the house multiple times.”
“Well, I should see what I can grab from your closet and you can get those batteries. We still need to set up our MOCs in the hall too!” Peyton tucks his shirt back into his pants and buckles his belt.
“Yeah here, take what you want to sleep in.” I open the drawer where I keep my shorts and underwear. I’m not athletic and don’t work out, but I still have some shorts I wore to PE in high school that might fit him.
Peyton picks out a pair of black loose black Under Armour shorts with pockets from my dresser. I don’t remember them being as soft as the Champion shorts he’s given me, but the thought of us together in bed tonight wearing each other’s clothes causes my cock to rise again.
When we head upstairs, Hailey’s already gone, and I let out a sigh of relief. I grab the double-A batteries from the kitchen drawer and, once we’re in the car, start the half-hour drive back to Denver. I want to ensure we’re finished with setup before the opening ceremony at 3:00 PM, so we agree to a fast lunch at the A&W across the street from the convention center before I park back at the hotel.
Returning to the convention hall by myself, I notice that most of the other war-themed MOCs are already set up. There’s just enough room for my display and the theme coordinator, Connor, is glad I’m finally setting up as he had nothing else to fill the space. Most of the other builders in my theme are in their late teens or 20s and Connor seems to be only a couple of years older than me.
“Hey Chris, I was looking all over for you, and you weren’t at my Intro Session!” Adam yells to me from across the table as I try to rebuild some of the bombed-out buildings on my MOC that didn’t make the drive from Castle Rock in one piece.
“Oh hey Adam,” I say as I give him an apologetic grin. “I took Peyton out to the Park Meadows LEGO store and to lunch, we just got back.”
“Anything good on the wall?” Adam asks as he admires the detailed landscaping work around my village.
“Nah, Leon didn’t get the stuff he wanted on the last order.”
“That blows. I just talked to Mel at the Colorado Mills store. They have lots of masonry and 1 x 2 SNOT (studs not on top) bricks in light gray.”
“What?” I look up excitedly. “I could have used more SNOT bricks for my village!”
“Too late now, unless you want to drive out to Lakewood. But I have something for you, Chris. Todd picked up the Front Range LUG t-shirts from the printer, we did them all in Star-Trek redshirt for you newbies!” Adam laughs as he tosses me a bright red T-shirt with the Front Range LUG logo on the chest, consisting of the colors of the Colorado state flag.
“Thanks, I’ll put it on for the Friends and Family event.”
“Good idea, I hope you didn’t lose your brick badge already?” Adam looks at my empty shirt concerned.
“Nope, I left it up in the room.”
“Okay, tonight is the big speed build competition. Everyone loves to spectate, just find me after that and I’ll take you to the party in Todd’s suite.”
I nod to Adam appreciatively and resume my work. After making my battle scene appear presentable to the masses, I get up and walk over to the Technic section to find Peyton changed into his SEATAC LUG t-shirt and his new Nike shorts. His Tundra is all lit up with his customized lighting kit, and with the batteries I gave him, he’s driving the truck back and forth with his controller.
“Hey, Chris! Want to give it a try?” He holds out the controller, and I feel a rush of pride seeing his work in action, knowing I had a small part in making it run.
“No, I’m good,” I chuckle, trying to keep my excitement in check. “Better save the batteries—they gotta last the weekend!”
“Alright, your loss.” He pockets the remote, watching me with that familiar playful smile. “Now show me your MOC. You already saw mine upstairs, so it’s only fair.”
I glance down, grinning, and tease, “Is this how it’s gonna be all weekend? Show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” But my eyes drift to his long legs in those mint green Nike shorts, and I feel a surge of warmth, wondering if he has any idea what he does to me.
“I haven’t thought of it like that, but what’s mine is yours. The only thing I won’t be able to show you is my whole LEGO collection as you did.”
“Let’s hope I can get to Tacoma one day!” I grin, as I lead him back to the war section.
“Wow,” he murmurs, his gaze tracing over my diorama titled ‘Tiger 205 at Villers Bocage.’ His eyes sparkle with interest, and I feel a strange mix of pride and shyness—he’s actually impressed. “You said the tanks are kits, but the village and destroyed vehicles… that’s incredible work. Is that a Sherman under all that rubble?”
“Yes,” I nod with a smile, feeling the warmth spread through me. I hadn’t expected him to know so much about war history. “But it’s not just any Sherman. It’s a Sherman Firefly!”
Peyton’s face lights up, and I can see the genuine curiosity in his expression. “Okay, what’s the difference?”
That question ignites a spark inside me, and suddenly I’m in my element, words tumbling out faster than I can think. “So most Allied tanks would’ve been no match for the Tiger, especially early in the Normandy campaign. The Sherman Firefly was one of the few that could actually take one on head to head--—it had a British 17-pounder gun that could pierce even the heaviest of German armor. It’s why the Brits could hold their own against Tigers and Panthers.”
Peyton’s fingers hover over the detailed Tiger tank model, and he nods slowly, absorbing it all. “So… who won this battle? The Germans?” He points at the intact Tiger tank in my scene, still watching me, like he wants to pull every last detail from my mind.
I can’t help but smile as I answer, loving his interest. “Well, it was a crazy fight. Wittmann, the German ace, went on this fifteen-minute rampage—he took out close to thirty vehicles from the British 22nd Armored Brigade. But he turned around when he saw this Firefly. He didn’t make it back out of the town, however; an anti-tank crew took out his tracks. Wittmann was killed in battle a couple of months later in another Tiger.”
Peyton seems to hang on every word as if he’s getting lost in the story I’ve brought to life in these bricks. “Wow, sounds like you’re really dedicated to making it historically accurate,” he says, his fingers tracing over the custom-printed bricks with German markings.
“Yeah, it was relatively easy because it’s one of history's most documented tank engagements.”
Our moment is interrupted as Adam bursts into the hall, shouting into a megaphone, “Fifteen minutes until the Opening Ceremony, everyone! And YES, there’ll be door prizes!” His voice echoes across the hall, and I feel a jolt of excitement. This is my first big LEGO event, and I’ve already gotten a handful of compliments on my MOC.
“Oh Chris, I grabbed this for you when I went upstairs. Do you want help putting it on again?” Peyton holds out my brick bage.
“Oh yeah, please do!” I turn to face him and he pulls back the neck of my t-shirt. My breath hitches as his warm hand slides against my breast, only to feel the cold magnet once Peyton pulls back his hand.
As we walk to the ceremony, side by side, I’m barely able to contain my excitement. I sneak a glance at Peyton, wondering if he feels it too—that thrill of connection, of being with someone who sees you. We pass by Adam, who motions for us to join him with the other Front Range LUG members, but Peyton pulls me toward his group, and I don’t resist. When we sit, I slip my hand into his, feeling the soft fabric of his new Nike shorts under my fingers.
“What kind of prizes do you think they’ll give away?” I ask, glancing around, feeling his thumb trace slow circles on my hand.
“LEGO sets, obviously,” he grins, “There’s always some beginner’s luck, so let’s hope it works for you. The first time I went to the ones in Portland and Salt Lake, I walked away with something good.”
A Botanicals set designer from LEGO in Denmark gives the keynote address for the afternoon. While Peyton and I don’t build flowers or plants, we both listen intently to the design process and appreciate how hard it is to bring organic forms into a LEGO set. Many new pieces and colors are required; it can take more than a year for something to go from concept to production.
When they start calling names for the first door prize giveaway, I half-zone out, scrolling on my phone, not expecting to win anything. I almost don’t hear it when they call, “Christopher Riddel!” but Peyton’s jab in my shoulder jolts me to attention.
I get up awkwardly and stand between the rows of chairs. One of the people handing out the prizes finds me and gives me a Singapore Skyline Architecture set. As I sit back down, Peyton’s already looking at it, his expression mixed with jealousy and pride.
“What did I say about beginner’s luck? Not bad, huh?” he nudges me, laughing softly.
“Yeah,” I reply, still in shock. “I don’t have this one yet!”
He takes it, turning it over in his hands, and I can’t help but feel this glow of happiness that my prize is me being here with him. We settle back in, and as the staff begins a rundown of the weekend events, I already know I won’t be on the exhibition floor more than necessary. I’d rather spend the time with Peyton, playing games, attending seminars, and exploring all the things this weekend might hold.
The ceremony winds down, and the final prize round begins. The last set on the table is a massive Technic F1 car, the biggest prize of the night. The room fills with a drumroll as everyone stomps their feet, building the suspense. Then the name is called, and to our complete surprise, it’s Peyton.
“Yeeeeeeah!” he shouts, jumping up with a grin, his excitement spilling out as he pumps his fists in the air. He strides to the front, and they hand him the enormous box. He lifts it over his head like a champion, the whole room clapping, and I feel this surge of joy watching him celebrate. His happiness is contagious, and I’m swept up in it, clapping and cheering louder than anyone.
As the crowd starts to disperse, we stand there together, both still buzzing from the excitement. He looks at me, holding the massive Technic box with a gleam in his eye. “How are you going to fit that huge box in your suitcase?” I chuckle, nudging him. “You could always leave it here with me. I’d keep it nice and safe at home!”
Peyton laughs, that easy, genuine laugh I’ve come to love. “There are ways, Chris. Worst case, I’ll just ditch the box,” he says with a grin. “But hey, we have about two hours until your parents show up. Maybe we can sneak away and build your new set in the room?”
I nod, a smile spreading across my face as I picture it. “Yeah, sounds perfect. I need to go up there anyway and change into my LUG shirt.”
Together, we head for the elevator, our prize boxes tucked close, riding the wave of excitement all the way back to our room. As we get ready for what promises to be a long night, I feel this quiet thrill, a warmth that goes beyond our new LEGO sets and the event. It’s the feeling of finding someone who just… gets it, who gets me. With Peyton by my side, I know this weekend will be something unforgettable.