DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR
Chapter 6
by Donny Mumford
Driving home I'm wondering if the fight will be the end of my troubles with Verris and his puppet Jarod Mellincamp, or the beginning of a new chapter of harassment from those two cretins. If I had it to do all over again, what would I do differently? Initially I second-guessed myself into wishing I never started the fight, but now I'm convinced I'd do the same thing all over again, except I'd aim my sucker punch better. We get back to the apartment ten minutes after the fight and now I'm in the bathroom looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, analyzing my injuries. Robby's next to me brushing his teeth trying to eliminate the horrible taste of puke . We've decided to shower together and the water's been running, warming-up and now steam's beginning to cloud the mirror as I gawk at my nose, which is slightly swollen. Although a black eye hasn't shown-up yet, I'll probably have one... I got one from a punch in the nose about this time a year ago. That black eye looked cool actually, it made me look kinda tough. My nose is very tender now and there's some discoloration on the side of my forehead where Verris connected with that roundhouse punch. Other than those two obvious injuries the rest of my hurts are black and blue wounds inflicted by the boots worn by that weasel Jarod. My ribs are sore but my winter clothing protected me from the worst of Verris' jabs while he was laying on top of me in the snow doing rabbit punches... the asshole. Naked Robby, done cleaning his mouth, stands next to me, saying, "The water's ready, lets get under the shower now." We step carefully around the shower curtain into the tub at the end opposite the spray. It's a tight fit for us under the cascading water so we put our arms around each other and let the hot water pour over us as we're standing here cheek to cheek, and I don't mean those cheeks.
After a minute of soothing water rolling over our sore bodies, I hear, "Will you shampoo my hair, Dylan?" I go, "Sure," and grab the shampoo to rub into Robby's blond hair creating lots of suds, my fingertips moving all over his round head massaging his scalp and enjoying the feel of his wet hair between my fingers. His eyes are closed and he's such a pretty thing I take the opportunity to kiss his lips; a smile spreads across his face, but he says nothing. When Robby's hair is rinsed he does mine and then we clean each other, body part by body part, taking care to be gentle with our bruises. When clean and rinsed-off we push the stopper switch for the bathtub and let the tub fill up with hot water as we silently sit side by side on the edge of the tub, each with an arm around the back of the other. When the tubs full enough, Robby sits in the water and leans up against the opposite end from the spigot, and then I situate myself in front of him between his legs, laying back against his chest, smiling at the feel of his soft four inch cock scrunched against the top of my buttocks. His arms go around my chest and my hands grasp his forearms... cosy. Kissing the side of my face, he quietly asks, "You okay, Dylan? Did they hurt you very much?" After a second's contemplation I decide to take the macho route, and reply, "Fuck 'em, I'm okay." I almost took the other choice; the injured little brother role... the one where I need Robby to take care of me. That's a lot of fun, but Robby already saved my ass for real tonight so it'd be too pathetic of me to play that game this time. The macho talk prompts Robby to say, "I wanted to do serious damage to that fucker, Verris... and I almost punched that little prick Jarod's head off his shoulders." I go, "You kicked some ass tonight for sure, dude!" Robby's quiet for a minute, playing with my tiny titties, then he mutters, "Those two were hurting you, Dylan... and, oh fuck, I just totally exploded. Thanks for snapping me out of my psycho act there at the end, I was trying to kill him. Jesus! I really lost it!" I talk quietly to Robby about how wonderful I think he is and steer him away from talk of him being a monster, although he did scare the shit out of me when he was on his rampage against Dick-head's head with that metal trash-can lid. And he did try to kill Joel that time a couple of summers ago, so there's a dark side to my normally super sweet boyfriend. Hmmm, Chubby went a little psycho himself with that steel pipe on Joel last year. Heh heh, that fucking sick bastard Joel picked the wrong boy when he picked me to terrorize... I've got some dangerous boyfriends!
Moving away from thinking about violence, I concentrate on the awesome feel of Robby's body as we soak quietly together in the tub; we lull together like this until the water loses it's heat. Then we dry ourselves and get into bed naked, me wrapped-up in Robby's arms. There's nothing like having your boyfriend put his life on the line for you to really brings out some lovin' feelings, and boy oh boy am I ever lovin' me some Robby tonight. Well, I guess it wasn't just Robby who put his life on the line; technically I started the fight, but it was Jarod who drove me to it. Anyway, Robby did come to my defense and the only other person in the world who's ever stood up for me like that is my brother-at-heart, Chubby. Tonight, lying here in bed naked, it isn't about sex; it's about love; both Robby and me lovin' on each other with soft words and little kisses until we fall asleep. I wake-up to a million aches and pains; then, glancing over at Robby I sigh 'cause he's such a wonderful sight to see.
Unfortunately, this morning his nose is swollen like mine, and there's a scrape on his forehead and a cut on his lip. Desecrating perfection is what those injuries represent! Ah fuck it, he's still beautiful and almost as near perfection as he was before the fight. Whatever, he needs to be at Saturday baseball practice by ten this morning so I can only enjoy watching him sleep until nine; then I wake him, and he goes, "Ooooh fuck! That bastard must have gotten more punches through than I thought... I'm sore all over!" I go, "Yeah, I hear ya... me too." Robby's grumpy this morning, but as soon as I remind him about baseball practice he brightens up. "Yeah, that's right," he says, "I forgot about my first Saturday practice of the year." He's brightening-up as he says, "Baseball makes me think of spring, ya know? No more of this awful snow and freezing cold weather." Just mention baseball and Robby's all smiles; it's great that he keeps that 'little boy' part of him alive inside 'cause I love seeing him excited about stuff. We get dressed, in good spirits now, talking about his new team and not even mentioning the fight. A little downer occurs when I remind Robby that I'll be going back to Framingham with Chubby this afternoon. He recovers quickly though, and says, "We'll, later today I'm working at Stop and Shop anyway, so during the day it'll be okay, but after that I'll be here in the apartment all alone." I tease, "Don't forget to lock the door... and maybe ya better check it every ten minutes to be sure it's locked." He's like, "Oh, fer sure! I'm so scared to stay by myself one night." We have a light breakfast, then Robby says, "The bookstore opens at eleven this morning, how 'bout getting two copies of the rhetoric assignment outline so we can both work it at the same time," then it's a kiss on the lips 'goodbye', and Robby's out the door. I won't see him again until tomorrow, at his house for dinner.
Now the apartments quiet except for the ambient sound of the central heating... creepy. Hmmm, what to do first? Glancing down the hall I see Chubby's bedroom door is shut again, why is that? He probably got home late last night so he's sleeping in, but why does he keep his door closed? Hmmm, what's going on in there anyway? I've no idea; that's one of the reasons I'm glad we're going to spend the whole day together because it's like we've been drifting apart, and lately I don't know what he's up to half the time. I love Robby, but once in awhile I'd like my own space and Robby doesn't take any time off, he's with me pretty much 24/7. However, now that baseball practice is starting up I'll have some time alone and I'm looking forward to it. But, it's not just Robby who's keeping Chubby and me apart; Chubby doesn't help the situation with the bogus girlfriend thingie all the time either... I mean, it takes a lot of his time pretending he wants to be with that snob Samantha, and before that it was the other snob, Mary Jo. I know in my heart he'd rather be spending time with me; we're simpatico to the max, we're like identical twin brothers from different mothers... well, different fathers too. I don't call us identical twins 'cause we look alike or anything; we don't, it's our essence that's identical, it's what makes us who we are that's identical. Fer christsakes, we literally grew up within inches of one another for years. Oh man, Chubby and me used to be 24/7 like you can't believe and sometimes I yearn for those days to come back so we can be like we used to be, but that's never going to happen so I need to make the most of when we are together. Sadly, what started us living separate lives was our need to get drivers licenses. Something so simple as that changed everything; we got jobs and the jobs took on lives of their own... it was weird, but we survived it all and we're together at college now, so that's pretty good.
Hee hee, you know what... I'm going to do one of my childish sneak attacks on Chubby. He'll probably pretend to be pissed-off, but he won't really be pissed because we never get really pissed at each other. Oh, maybe I can be a little annoying once in a while, but that's about it. Earlier I'd hastily pulled on pajama bottoms getting out of bed, 'cause we slept naked last night, which was awesome by the way. We almost always wear pajamas to bed in the winter, but of course, last night wasn't a normal winter night. Anyway, all I've got on are pajama bottoms, no top, and nothing on my feet as I tip toe to Chubby's bedroom and put my ear to the door, and hear nada, nothing. Wouldn't it be a riot if I storm in there and he has someone in bed with him. Who would it be I wonder? For some reason that makes me think of Robby saying he's "slipped-up" a "couple" of times. He means, in addition to the Ryan Wilcocks blow-jobs slip up. So, that means there are a couple of other boys he's done 'something sexy' with... and I wonder who they might be? Hmmm, oh the hell with worry about that now, it's Chubby I'm gonna sneak in on and have some fun with.
The knob to his bedroom door won't turn when I try it. Are you shitting me! Chubby's locking his bedroom door now? Well, he never used to do that, so why now I wonder? Into the kitchen I go on my toes, snickering to myself; I'll really surprise his ass now. Getting a paperclip from the box of them in the utility closet, and then straightening out a post on the paperclip, I tip toe back to the locked bedroom door to slip the lock. Most bedroom door locks have a small circular opening in the doorknob, all you need to do is insert a wire and push straight into the opening and it'll dislodge the lock. Why the hell they call it a lock if it's so easily bypassed I have no idea, but here goes. "Click!" goes the dislodged locking apparatus noisily. I hold my breath, wait a second, then turn the knob opening the door slightly. Pushing it open a little wider I stick my head inside wondering what I'll find there. Nothing but Chubby sleeping, that's what I find. He didn't hear the loud click of the lock obviously, or maybe it just sounded loud to me. Chubby's bedroom is small so only a single bed fit in here. Robby and I have twin single beds in our room, but we usually sleep together in one or the other of them. I quietly tip toe over to Chubby's bed, he's sleeping on his side, facing me, near the edge of the mattress closest to me, so I walk around to the other side, lift the covers and, as gently as I can do it, get into bed with him, and then little by little pull the covers over me. Barely touching him I rub his pajama top and slide my hand down on the chance he isn't wearing pajama bottoms, but he is. I'm positioned very close to Chubby 'cause, like I said, it's a single bed and therefore small. Being close-up to this boy is certainly nothing new to me as he and I have been in close proximity for so much of our lives we're almost one. His subtle personal odor is very familiar and wonderfully comforting whenever I'm in his space. Smelling his boyish odor I feel safe and calm, like the world's order has been restored. I can see only half his face but I've memorized what he looks like a million times over and know exactly what the hidden side of his face looks like; every atom of his face is emblazoned in my brain and will be there till the day I die... and perhaps even longer. Chubby's let his hair grow-out 'cause Sam asked him to, or 'told' him too would be more like it. He's wearing it with a part on the left side, combed over on top and short enough on the sides to keep off his ears. It's kinda boring... the style, not his hair. Dark brown thick silky hair that I love cutting whenever he needs a haircut. Chubby's daddy, who died right after Chubby was born, was Hispanic and so Chubby has a tannish complexion, like his dad had... it's light tan, very smooth, and ultra sexy. I know about his dad's complexion from the picture of him Chubby carries in his wallet at all times. Sadly, Chubby and me are now older then his dad was when he died... a very sad thing indeed. Chubby has his mom's small facial features, all of which go together beautifully, and the same can be said about his delicate brows and eyelashes. His pink lips almost look like he's wearing lipstick, and when his eyes are open I look into the brightest brown eyes I've ever seen. Chubby's only five feet-six inches tall but he's a tiger when he gets mad; fuck with this boy at the risk of life and limb. He and I are slim and our bodies fit together perfectly whenever I can finagle myself against him. On my bedside table at home I have a picture of Chubby and me when we we're nine or ten years old; we're on the beach wearing only little speedo bathing suits with our arms around each other's neck, the sides of our faces together; we're both smiling so hard it's ridiculous. We were always hugging each other while growing-up and now, as I think back on it, I remember the looks our moms exchanged about our intimate behavior. Not nasty looks or concerned looks, more bemused eyebrows-raised looks, with a grin on their faces.
Chubby's pink lips move now, saying something unintelligible in his sleep and for the ten thousandth time, as I stare at him, I realize he's my favorite face, and I'm again confused about my love for him. Is it gay love or something else, and how does he love me; what kind of love is that? It's certainly not a new question for me as I've been wondering it for a few years now. Before I accepted my own gayness it was simple; then, I understood in my mind that I love Chubby above all others and that was that, but now that I'm gay it's more complicated... how many ways do I love him, that's the mystery. Anyway, forget all that for now, I just wanna have some fun with my bro here. Leaning close I put the tip of my nose in his hair at the crown of his head, his hair is soft and dry and smells like Chubby... nice. Inching my body closer to his I get up against him and lay an arm over his side and notice, hey... he's wearing another pair of my pajamas! Hee hee! They're too big for him, the legs must drag on the floor. Hugging him with one arm gets his body to stiffen, then it relaxes as Chubby mumbles, "Let me guess, is that you again, Robby?" and I go, "Riiiight! Guess again!" Chubby wrestles himself over on his back and I go up on my side, resting the side of my face in my hand, up on my elbow. "Wassup, dude?" I ask, and in a monotone, he says, "This is a silly question, and I don't know why I'm asking it, but what are you doing in my bed, Dylan?" I go, "Annoying you, mostly..." He smiles at me while taking a deep breath, like..."It's only Dylan, being Dylan" then says, "You never annoy me, bro." His eyes focus on my face, and he asks, "Okay, who punched your lights out? You got a black eye... what the fuck happened?" Trying to look like a sad sack, I go, "It's nothing really, a group of gay boys were fighting over me and one accidentally hit me in the nose." "With his purse?" Chubby asks, with a straight face. I move in with my arm around his neck pulling his head next to mine, saying, "Don't be like that, you're way better than that." He says, "I'm fucking kidding with you, are you okay?" Putting my fingers in his hair, playing with it, I tell him pretty much what happened. He's making a face, shaking his head, mumbling, "I swear to God, I don't understand how it is you get so many guys to hate you!" I'm shrugging, "I don't know either," then remind him about the first week here at Merrimack when I did that little put-down of Verris when he thought a hermaphrodite was a dinosaur?" Chubby chuckles, then says, "Oh yeah, that's right. He's such a jackass! If he gives you anymore trouble we'll make a little trouble for him... you and me" That made me feel good and I take it as a positive sign that Chubby and me are gonna have a great day together. Just to be sure he remembers it's our day though, I look him in the eyes, saying, "This is our day together, ya know; I'm just starting things off here." He goes, "Uh huh," and I go, "Yeah, me getting in bed with you is certainly no big deal, we used to sleep like this all the time and we're gonna do it tonight too, for old time sake, so this is practice." He rolls his eyes at that, but surprisingly doesn't struggle to escape my hold around his neck, so I add, "This is another kind of practice for tonight," and I kiss his lips... still no protest, but no kissing back either so I do it again with my tongue slipping between his lips, blocked by his teeth. When he opens his mouth to say something my tongue touches his tongue and it's like a buzzer going off in my dick as it scrambles to get steel-pipe-hard. I gasp at the quickness of it's boning-up.
Pulling his head away, Chubby grumpily says, "Why do you always need to go too far?" My nose is almost touching his nose as I say, "You know I'm gay, and you know I'm you're favorite person in the world, so why shouldn't I kiss you and why won't you do me a big favor and go along with me for once?" He smells so wonderful, so recognizable, so Chubby! To my surprise he lets a lot of air out, and in a resigned manner says, "Okay, lets kiss... it's your day, bro," and before he gets "bro" out of his mouth my lips are on his and he kisses back this time, and let me tell ya, Chubby really knows what he's doing... he's been kissing someone because he certainly knows how to do it. Both my arms are around his neck now, my head moving slightly against his face as I try to suck his mouth into mine, but Chubby's equal to the task of blunting that with a French kiss that gets my boner dripping. I roll over on top of him, our mouths still connected and almost immediately I feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh... the fact he's sprung a boner excites me mightily. Little grunting sounds are coming from me as I adjust my position to match my crotch with Chubby's, then dry hump against his boner. Still no complaints from Chubby, but it's such a rush for me to be doing this I'm already close to spunking. My hips hump against him wildly and the motion moves my boner around until it finds it's way through my pajama's fly, the naked head poking Chubby's pajamas. Ten seconds of that and a random hip hump pushes my boner into the fly of Chubby's pajamas and now it's boner next to boner. Chubby swallows loudly and begins humping his hips back into me, breathing hard through his nose, his face is getting red as my face is scrunching-up anticipating the sensations of climax, which comes rushing on me. I pull my mouth away from Chubby and plaster the side of my face against his, my chest flat against his chest as cum streaks from my cock soaking Chubby's groin and the lap of his pajama bottom, then my pajama bottoms. I feel Chubby's fast beating heart against my chest, as my heart beats against his. He's hugging me around my shoulders making desperate sounds as I hump hard into his boner again, spurting out another long stream of teen cum, creamy and sticky, plastering the laps of our pajamas against our skin.
Doing raspy breathing I'm seeing black dots swimming in my vision and electric buzzing's traveling all around my cock and balls, then the buzzing zings out to my stomach and down both legs. My feet twitch as my toes curl and my shoulders shudder... what a great climax!
In a daze I lay on Chubby, his boner wet with my cum, still very hard. I'm vaguely thinking, "I didn't waste any time taking advantage of Robby's and my new agreement!" Yeah, but I never expected Chubby to agree to kiss, how could I plan for that? So, this doesn't really count. Chubby's heartbeat is returning to normal and the heat of his face against the side of mine slips below the boiling point. I'm not sure if the heat of his face is from embarrassment or sexual arousal, but I do know his dick's quickly losing it rock-star status; I can feel it doing so beneath me. Seemingly out of breath, he asks, "Did I cooperate enough for you, Dylan?" I kiss his lips quickly, saying, "That was okay, but what do I gotta do to get you to spunk?" He's slipping out from under me, muttering, "Don't worry about me spunking, bro. All I'm hoping to do is show you how much you mean to me 'cause you're always showing me how much I mean to you." He seems a little upset, so I ask, "You mad at me?" Chubby shakes his head once, "Nah, mad at me mostly; I shouldn't have let this go so far. It'll give you the wrong idea." I continue holding him around his neck preventing him from getting up, asking, "What kind of love do we have for each other, Chubby? What would you call it?" He immediately replies, "Unique! Very unique, but I don't have a clue how to define it myself." I mutter, "You're still sounding angry." One distinct word at a time, he says, "I am not angry. Alright?" In a sorta pouty way, I go, "You're mad that I popped a load so quickly, aren't you?" He mumbles, "Amazed, more than mad... that would be more accurate." Not knowing what to say to that, I make a face, and Chubby goes, "No, it's nothing bad... I don't mean anything bad by that, it's okay, Dylan. I just didn't expect to get caught-up in that thing, whatever the hell we did there, so I'm just a little out of sorts. But don't worry... I'm good, no problems." I quietly say, "We've popped-off together before, Chubby... you always say we're special friends who can take friendship to the next level." He goes, "Yeah, but only rarely! And also, it's mostly kid stuff, and now you and I are in college, fer chrissakes!" I pout some more, muttering, "We hardly do it 'once in a while' like you said; it's more like once 'hardly ever'... if ya ask me." Chubby's falling victim to my pathetic pouting routine, running his fingers through my hair a few times, he says, "Come on Dylan, don't be like this. Hey, this is suppose to be our day. Let's take a shower together so you know, we can clean your sperm from our bods." Oh boy, a shower with Robby last night and now one with Chubby this morning. Yesssss! I go, "Only if you really want to," and he laughs out loud, "I always fall for your pouting, don't I?" Unable to hold back the grin, I go, "Not always, there was that one time we were in pre-school when you saw right through it." He's smiling now, saying, "We're so tight, Dylan... it's totally confusing sometimes, right? Ya know, I often wish I had the easy explanation for this that you have... of being gay, I mean." I go, "Easy, you say?"
Chubby and I have taken hundreds of baths and showers together growing up, but not so much lately. Using the apartment's hall bathroom's bathtub and shower, we shampoo and wash each other, me being careful not to push it with the private-parts cleaning because Chubby's been really good about stuff so far this morning and I'm thinking if I have some restraint now it may lead to more good things later on. While we're rinsing off, I ask, "Do ya think we can do the leg shaving, Chubby? Remember how we started doing that all those years ago when you insisted we keep our legs shaved?" He grunts some noncommittal sound, and I add, "It was because you were afraid you were growing hair on your calves before me. Remember?" He's like, "Oh, fer chrissakes, have some fucking mercy! Don't bring up that embarrassing phase of my life." Keeping it light, I say, "Sorry, but that phase only changed recently; it's not exactly ancient history.
Anyway... please!" He shrugs, and goes, "Sure, that's a great feeling, shaved legs." I'm turning off the faucets, muttering, "And pubes too?" Chubby's like, "What? What'd ya say?" I turn around and go, "I just felt that it's only fair since you're going along with the shaved legs, I'll give in and go along with the shaved pubes too." He laughs out loud, then says, "If you promise to never bring this shaving shit up again, I'll go all the way with you today." We're drying each other as I say, "Ya know, some people think when someone says, "I'll go all the way with ya," they're referring to something more than shaved pubes." Chubby flicks the corner of his towel so it snaps across my ass, saying, "No, I didn't know that. Do you know how butterflies go about tasting things?" Ah ha, a factoid! That's always a good sign Chubby's in a good mood. I say, "Butterflies taste with their asshole, right?" He goes, "No, but you're close, they taste with their hind legs?" I try snapping my towel at his ass, but it flutters more than snaps. I go, "Fuck butterflies!" and we walk bare-ass-naked into the hall, me turning right for my room, Chubby going the other way for his. After getting dressed we drive over to Dunkin' Donuts for breakfast sandwiches and medium coffees. We do this without bringing up what we will, or will not, do today as regards, "going all the way".
Inside Dunkin' Donuts we're sitting at a table with our food when Ears Henderson comes in with Scott Tinsdale. They're loudmouths, but pretty good guys and after yelling a greeting they get dunkaccino drinks and join us. Ears is in a couple of classes with me and a couple of different ones with Chubby. We met Scott through Ears 'cause they're inseparable; inseparable, but almost certainly not gay. Ears' real first name is Walter, which isn't too cool so, because of his tiny ears, someone a long time ago nicknamed him 'Ears', and it's stuck. Weird at first, but you don't give it a thought after awhile. We tell them where we're going and they tell us their plans and we commiserate about our lousy professors, and then Scott complains about Ears' sloppy habits. In a too loud voice, he says, "The dude's cool and I'm glad he's my roommate, but our dorm is a biohazard and I'm afraid of the fallout." I think of Rajon's dorm room as Ears laughs and tells us that Scott's a prude, and then gives a couple of funny examples; you can tell they really like each other by the way they rag on one another, it's all done in good fun. And then Connor comes in with that dopey roommate of his, Josh McDaniels. Connor and Josh are two more guys who are inseparable, but who almost surely aren't gay either; well, one of them isn't. Seems a waste that most of the inseparable male friends are straight, or pretending to be straight. Connor's neither pretending to be straight nor pretending to be gay, he's just Connor Neary. He sits right next to me at the table smiling so sweetly I almost get a tear in my eye. It's like he's so glad to see me... it's flattering and oh so nice, but it hurts my heart too. Why can't he stop hangin' with that loser Josh and hook up with a cool gay boy and find happiness? Under the table he squeezes my thigh, while saying to Chubby, "Hi, Chub! I haven't seen much of you this semester," then he reaches up and rubs my burr haircut, asking, "Where's your beanie, Dylan?" I shrug, hoping to avoid discussing the fight, as he's looking at me closer, going, "Ooh, Dylan, what happened? You been in a fight?" So I give a Cliff Notes version of what happened in the fight and everyone at the table except Josh has something nasty to say about Verris by the time I'm done. Finished with my brief description, Josh brings up a name from the past. He asks, "Dylan, whatever happened to that shy kid, Elliot?" Elliot Ellis and his boyfriend Jay Reeves were the first ones to commit to Merrimack. Unfortunately Jay's mother ran into some financial troubles starting-up her hairdresser business and Jay needed to go to a community college. Elliot went with him, but there's no need for me to go into these details with Josh. I actually text with Elliot and Jay a couple times a week so I know they're doing great. But, what's it to Josh. Without addressing his question, I ask, "You know Elliot?" He says, "No, I know is fag boyfriend, Jay Reeves... Jay introduced the shy kid to me and said they were coming to Merrimack. Obviously they're not here, and he sorta gave me the impression you and him were tight so I thought you'd know what happened." Chubby's staring at Josh with a look on his face that I know means trouble. I'm guessing that Chubby doesn't care for Josh's arrogant manner, and I bet he didn't care for the word "fag" being used, considering I'm gay; not that Josh knows that for a fact. I say, "They're going to community college and lovin' it there," then to Chubby, as I'm getting up, "Time to hit the road, bro," but Connor goes, "Oh no, wait... I've got a joke for you guys." Chubby was giving Josh the evil eye and Connor may have sensed the growing tension and defused the situation with his joke. He says:
"Ralph and Edna were patients in a mental institution. They're walking to their therapy session when Ralph jumps in the swimming pool and sinks to the bottom. Edna uses her head and jumps in after him and saves him. Later that day the director consults with the doctors about considering Edna for discharge... her quick action indicates she's mentally stable enough to take care of herself in the world outside. As she's being processed out the director gets some bad news and feels he should tell Edna. He tells her that Ralph finally has succeeded in committing suicide by hanging himself. Edna, getting up to leave for her new life, waves her finger at the doctor, saying, "No, no no! He didn't hang himself. He was soaking wet when I dragged him out of the pool so I hung him up there to dry. Now, what time is my bus outta here, doc?"
We laugh because Connor's laughing so hard at his own punch line ya can't help but laugh. He's so clean looking, his face so pure I want to lick it. Walking by him on our way out, I rub through his hair, hair that I'd just cut for him last week, and he grabs my hand holding it, standing up, saying, "Oh, Dylan... wait a second." When I stop, he says real low, "I got nothing to say really, I just wanted to hold your hand for a minute." I'd laugh except he's so sincere, his eyes so innocent." I mumbled, "Me too, " not even knowing what I mean by that. Then I'm out the door, looking back... Connor's eyes still following me.
I don't know what to do about Connor... I really don't.
Chubby hadn't observe Connor and me 'cause he's talking with Samantha near the parking lot. When I catch up with them, I hear, "...told you the beginning of the week I need to go home for the weekend, it's mom's birthday." I'm next to Chubby now, and he asks, "Isn't that so, Dylan?" Before I can confirm the lie, Sam says, "Why do you think I'd believe him? Listen mister," and she gets close to Chubby to whisper something in his ear that makes Chubby laugh, then say, "That's blackmail, Sam!" and she's just nodding her head, agreeing that yeah, it is, as she walks away towards the front door of Dunkin' Donuts. Over her shoulder, she hollers, "See ya Sunday night, stud!" There's something about her just now; a look, or the humorous way she handled herself, or something that was almost attractive to me... so I can maybe see a tiny bit of why Chubby would put up with her. Chubby says to me, "Let's go," and we light up cigarettes while I wonder if I should delve into the Samantha/Chubby phenomenon with him, then think better of it. We finish our cigarettes leaning against the Jeep in forty-something degree temperature that feels warmer after the ridiculously cold winter we've had. To say something, I go, "Beautiful day, huh Chubby?" He looks shocked, "Are you shitting me, look at all the dirty snow, and I'm still freezing my balls off." Well, with nothing to say to that, I flick my cigarette butt off the windshield of the car next to ours and get inside the Jeep, and, in a happy mood, say to Chubby. "I'm trying to have a positive outlook, Chubby.
You should try it sometime!" This morning's activities have me feeling real good and I'm actually feeling positive about things. I mean... come on, the start of Chubby's and my day together couldn't have gone much better, so I'm good... I'm cool.
Chubby's driving us, first to the bookstore for me, then himself to Admissions where there's a mix-up about his tuition payment for next semester. He drops me off, "I'll call your cell when I'm on my way back. Okay, Dylan?" I say, "Dude!" and bump fists with him, then say, "Thanks for tolerating me this morning, Chub! You rock like no other, and I love ya!" He yells, "Me too," as he's pulling away from the curb. Just for something to do, I light another Marlboro light... it makes me seem kinda casual and cool, smoking while walking alone. Even though earlier I said, "Beautiful day!" to Chubby, I gotta admit walking up to the bookstore it's like everywhere I look is snow, but now it's melting snow so that's good, but it's somehow gotten covered with dirt making everything ugly. What the hell, spring is coming up in three weeks. Going around to the side of the building now, to the scene of last night's fight, I begin scouring the ground looking for my beanie, the one Jarod knocked off my head, then kicked, which started the fight. I don't see my hat so I check the trash cans, but it's not there either. Those fucks probably ripped it to streads or wiped their asses with it. Goddammit! Chubby gave me that hat last Christmas. I'm about to give up when I spot a bit of color under a huge evergreen tree. On my knees in the snow, I reach under and there's my beanie, which I hug to my chest like a dork would do, but dammit, I thought I'd lost it. Pulling it on my head, then immediately taking it off 'cause it's freezing cold, but I'm so fucking happy I found this thing! It's nuts, but true... I'm so glad to have found my favorite beanie!! Ha ha!
Smiling, I put it in my pocket and start walking back up the sidewalk to the bookstore, the ugly dirty snow is piled all along the way, but it's not bothering me anymore. Around the corner, I think, "The snow might be ugly, but what isn't ugly is Rajon Whyte," who's laughing with his friend, Gabriel, outside the bookstore. They both have take-out McDonalds coffees in their hands as they huddle near the front door next to a prominent sign reading, "NO FOOD OR BEVERAGE ALLOWED". Wondering what persona Rajon's in this morning, I do a pretty good flick of my half smoked cigarette butt landing it on top of a dirty mound of snow, then pull at the crotch of my sweat pants remembering the sexy time Rajon and I had together. Gabriel sees me first and says something to Rajon who looks up quickly and gives me his killer smile wiggling his finger that I should come to him. I really shouldn't, but he's looking so cute and cool wearing a baseball cap with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled-up covering the hat so only the brim's sticking out, the hood's framing his cute, brown, smiling face... it's making him kind of irresistible to me. Drifting over to the gay boys I find myself smiling too, and when I'm right in front of them, I start to ask, "Whassup?" but Rajon gets his arm around my neck pulling my head down and, holding his coffee away from us, he gives me a wet kiss on the lips, maintaining it until I can't help myself and open my mouth allowing his tongues to come inside and we lap away, tongue on tongue; then a heavy French kiss that gets me hard. Rajon pulls away slightly, blowing a long exhale in my face, then he leans up again and kisses my nose; and asks, "Hows my white boyfriend doing today?" Well, he's in his horny frame of mind again, which is cool, but I'm gasping, actually gasping for air 'cause this outrageous greeting right in front of the bookstore isn't something I expected, plus... how the hell did I spring a boner this quickly when I spunked with Chubby less than an hour ago? Gabriel says, "I'm so jealous! Fuck me too, Dylan," and Rajon goes, "No way, Gabriel.
I got Dylan under my spell, all I need to do now is crook my finger and he'll come running." Then, stepping right in front of me and gripping my crotch with his free hand, he goes up on his toes and rubs his nose against mine a few times, asking, "Ain't that right, baby?" I swear to God this kid's got my number! I should be outraged, but instead I do half a laugh, and say, "Oh, riiiight, Rajon," as if nothing could be further from the truth. He squeezes my balls, muttering, "This feels good, ya got yourself a nice boner, don't ya? That's compliments of me, ain't it?" I swallow hard, then gulp but before I get a word out he's let go of my cock and reached behind me pulling my crotch into his body, saying, "Bend your head down, Dylan," and like a a hypnotized person I do as I'm told and he gives me a quick kiss on the lips, then squeezes my buttocks again, he whispers, "You're hot.." before letting go of me. Stepping back, he's saying, "Once you've had black, you're never gonna go back, and speaking of black, who gave you that black eye?" I take in a big breath savoring Rajon's coffee flavored saliva as my cock squirms in my pants, hard and quivering. Inhaling the last whiff of his sexy personal odor, I say, "Got the black eye when I ran into an open door, that's all".
Like I said, my cock is really hard and now it's poking out the front of my sweatpants. I need to lift my foot and adjust my crotch right in front of the boys, moving my hard cock sideways in my jockey shorts so it's not as obvious. I should say something while I'm doing this, so I try joking around, saying, "As you can see, Gabriel,... Rajon has no affect on me at all." Rajon does the exaggerated, "Riiight," that I'd said to him a minute ago. Then he gets an arm wrapped around my arm, pulling me with him, "Come on Dylan, you and me are gonna go 'round the world this morning." I chuckle before realizing he's serious. Gabriel is clapping his hands, saying, "I wanna watch, I wanna watch!" Rajon's so small I have no trouble picking him up, a hand under each of his armpits, telling him, "I got places to go and things to do today, Rajon," and just like that his acrobatic body effortlessly twitches somehow and he's got his legs around my waist again, face to face, grinning at me, saying, "You're so awesome!" And he never even spilled his coffee. Because of last night's fight there are many sore spots on me; out of sight injuries as it were, that now all come to life with this maneuver of Rajon's, but I manage to keep the groan of pain to a low grunt. He's grinning from ear to ear misinterpreting my grunt and, like yesterday, I can't get mad at him. Like I said, it's flattering he thinks I'm so hot, and I'm susceptible to flattery. While that's all true, I can't stop myself from glancing around to see who's observing our strange behavior and notice there are a lot of kids milling around, but none of them are paying us any special attention... we're just a couple of airhead college students goofing around rough-housing. Okay, that's good, but enough already, I say, "You're unbelievable, Rajon," as I'm pulling him from my body, which isn't as easy as you'd think. He's laughing, and if he had the use of both his hands I'm not so sure I could get him off me short of hurting him, which I do not want to do. Then he's on his feet offering me a sip of his coffee, which I take to be polite, then gaging, ask him, "How many sugars did you put in this thing?" he goes, "Ten, why?" and giggles follow. Rolling my eyes, I manage to convince Rajon and Gabriel that I'm on a mission to get the outline I need for a paper on rhetoric and after that I'm going home for the weekend, which all college students understand the need for, so that works with Rajon. We all need a break from the college scene every now and then and Rajon gives me a 'hall pass'... I'm allowed to have the weekend off... ha ha. "First thing you do Monday morning, boyfriend, is get up real early to come to my dorm and hop in bed with me." "What should I do then?" I ask. He giggles, sounding a little bit girlish this time, and says, "I'll let ya know, you sweet thing," and he tosses his coffee container in the trash can, gets both arms around my neck to pull himself up as easily as can be, and kisses me, saying, "You're my new white boyfriend now, and when I need me some white cock, you need to take care of Rajon... okay?" I pretend to be serious, and say, "It gets me hot when guys talk about themselves in the third person." He hops down, giggling again, and I take the opportunity to drift towards the bookstore door waving as I'm backing away, and I make my escape. Wow, he's a handful, but how 'bout the way my dick got rock hard in ten seconds?! Jeez, he's got my number alright. I don't have a clue what I'm gonna do about Rajon!.
Now that Rajon's not distracting me all my body aches announce themselves and I let out this big sigh going into the bookstore. In five minutes I've got the outline I need and I'm standing in the check-out line to pay when my cell rings, it's Chubby... he'll meet me outside, and our day together will continue.
I'm all smiles as I close my phone... life is good! Outside Rajon is talking to a black kid who's either gay or pantomiming being gay; in either case Rajon's occupied with him and doesn't notice me. I saunter down the sidewalk to Chubby, who's leaning against our Jeep smoking; he's in a good mood too. "Why the big smile, Chubby?" and he goes, "For once they got it right. I thought I'd have this fight to the death with the powers to be who lost my tuition payment, the one I paid for the next semester, when, ta da! They actually admit they made a mistake and apologize! Can you believe it... an adult admits they're wro, wro, wrong!" We high five as Chubby adds, "What the hell, I was nice about it 'cause who knows, next time I might be wrong." Taking Chubby's half smoked cigarette, I'm nodding and smiling to acknowledge Cubby's triumph while inhaling a drag, then slurp lots of saliva on the filter. I say, "Let me drive home," as I pass the butt back to Chubby. He puts the spit-saturated filter between his lips, handing me the keys, then burst out laughing, "No fuckin' way you have any saliva left in you mouth, it's all on this filter!" Taking the keys, trying not to laugh, I ask, "Whaddaya talking about saliva for?" He squeezes my hand quickly, shakes his head, and says, "You're nothing but fucking trouble, bro... but I love ya like no other. Come on, lets roll!"
It doesn't take more than two minutes to get off campus and out into the real world. We take route 125 to route 93 to route 128 south and then route 30 all the way to route 9 into Framingham. That's a lot of 'routes', a lot of different roads, but we're not on any of them for all that long; the whole trip's a little over an hour, assuming there's no traffic jams or road repairs going on. It's sunny and the weather's predicted to get up in the high forties which is awesome for March in New England. Feeling brazen as I drive, I casually ask, "So, what do you and Sam do to pass away the nighttime hours?" Chubby turns his head and stares at the side of my face without speaking for a few seconds, then asks, "Are you serious? Do I ask you what you and Robby do at night?" I go, "Call me crazy, but I believe you just asked me two questions instead of answering my question." He doesn't say anything, so I go, "Come on, Chub... I'm interested in your life, that's all." Chubby lightens-up a little, and says, "Well, we do pretty much what you'd imagine, and pretty much what you and Robby probably do... sorta." Hmmm, I was hoping he wasn't screwing Samantha to be perfectly honest about it. I go, "Do you use condoms?" He's like, "DYLAN!!!" Then he calms down, "Dude, that's so personal, but yeah I do, don't you?" I let that slide, and say, "Okay, no more personal questions; this is our day together though so I thought you'd be a little more forthcoming, that's all." He's like, "Oh, man... you're one of a kind, Dylan." We ride in silence for a couple of minutes, then I ask, "You told me you were breaking up with her, didn't you tell me that last weekend?" Chubby chuckles, and lightly punches my arm, "Didn't you just say you weren't asking me more personal questions?" I go, "Don't be silly, that's a figure of speech. So, what happened at Bertuccis' restaurant?" Chubby comes right out and tells me how Sam lost her cool completely when he tried giving her a little bit of a brush-off. She stood-up at the table calling him an asshole and a fag. He was embarrassed of course, but he couldn't just storm out of there, he needed to wait for the check. She didn't have that constraint and stormed out of the restaurant only to realize when she got outside that it's freezing cold and she has no ride back to school, so she went back in and calmly sat down at the table as if nothing happened telling Chubby she'd give him another chance. Diners around them were stealing glances and chuckling and, according to Chubby, the whole situation hit him as so outrageous that he just started laughing... long and the short of it is he admired her 'balls' and gall and total lack of concern for those around them; she cared about herself and she liked her 'Jeffrey' too much to break-up over nothing, so they ordered dessert instead of the bill and then worked out a compromise while eating their cake. There's to be no more 24/7 togetherness 'cause Chub stuck to his lie that he was behind in his studies and needed time alone for that, but he was honest enough to admit he also wanted more time to be with his friends. I interrupted to ask, "Did she mention me?" and Chubby goes, "Um, well yeah, but it's best we don't go there." I mumble, "That bitch!" and Chubby laughs and reaches over to squeeze my hand, saying, "Be nice!." The arrangement is they're going out only once a week from now on, occasionally twice a week, but they're in a lot of the same classes together so it's not like they won't be spending other time together too. I asked him what he saw in her and Chubby sternly says, "Please, bro... no more Samantha talk, please!
It's suppose to be you and me today, okay?" I go, "Hey, I'm just interested... that's all."
The rest of the ride is mostly silent, Chubby scrunched down in his seat, his eyes closed, listening to music. We can be silent together without feeling uncomfortable, which I can't say anybody else I can think of off the top of my head. Driving along it's fun seeing the old neighborhood. I pull up on the road below our condos and gaze up at them; Chubby's and his mom's condo is directly above my mom's and mine. Parking at the curb, I say, "The mothership has landed, welcome aboard!" Chubby opens his eyes, and goes, "What the fuck's that mean, dude?" he says it in a joking way. I go, "Damn if I know, let's surprise the moms." Tris and my mom aren't expecting us until tomorrow. We go up the steps two at a time, then up to my front door first where I slide my key in the lock and turn it slowly so it doesn't alert mom; then, flinging open the front door, I yell, "Surprise!" Mom's getting ready for work in her room but she sprints out calling, "Dylan, honey!" and we hug and kiss, then Mom waves at Chubby while hugging me, saying, "Come on, Chubby, get in this hug," and the three of us hug for a few seconds, everyone smiling. The moms and Chubby and me are like one big happy family; two moms and two boys... we're super tight! Mom says, "You boys look wonderful! Dylan, you look good in short hair, so boyish!" and she hugs me again, asking Chubby, "Did you cut it for him, honey?" and we tell mom about Robby trying to do it and how Chubby needed to save the day. She says, "I just love how close you boys are... never ever forget these days; they're very special in your lives." After some more catching-up, Chubby says, "Well, I'm gone upstairs now to surprise mom, see you in a little while, bro." He's out the door and up the steps to his condo with my mom doing, "Shhhh," to me, with her finger to her lips, waiting until we hear a loud squeal upstairs from Tris. Then mom says, "I just wanted to hear Tris's surprise scream when her boy bops in." Another hug around my neck as she's saying, "You two are so special to us, Tris and I are very lucky to have sons like you two." I'm like, "Ah, mom... come on, that's kinda awkwardly embarrassing." She goes, "Oh, come on yourself! Hey, what's with the black eye?" and I tell her about running into a door, which she doesn't believe for a second. She needs to get ready for work though, so we're talking in her bedroom. She's telling me about her ex-boyfriend Jake, who's been working in Hawaii for the past two months. "He's taken a permanent position there, Dylan, so I guess it's really over between Jake and me. He was too young for me anyway, but really cute and... well, kinda hot, but you're too innocent to know anything about that." I go, "Does that hot thing you mentioned have anything to do with a stork? I've heard something about that." She laughs, and says, "Okay, you're not that innocent," and a pat on my cheek, then, "Ya know, it always seemed to bother Jake that you never warmed up to him. Why didn't you?" I go, "Jake? Oh, it's not a matter of warming up to him or not warming up to him, he's my mom's boyfriend, that's all." Mom's finally just about ready for work, one more lipstick touchup as she says, "Oh, you know, I always hoped Jake would be kinda a father figure for you, but it never materialized... he's gone for good now anyway." I'm thinking, "Yesssss!"
Then there's the normal last minute panic as she's hustling through the condo looking for something, her purse this time. It's the size of luggage so I'm surprised it takes her a minute to find it. Then the front door opens and Chubby and his mom, Tris, come in. "Dylan, sweetheart give me a big hug," which I do as she kisses the sides of my face. "Why didn't you boys tell us you were coming, we could have switched shifts with Sara or Betty." Chubby says, "We're gonna be out all the time anyway, but in the morning we're doing our special brunch for your guys and then later in the afternoon we're all going to the Dickers for dinner." The moms act all excited, "Can't wait! But we gotta run now. Come to the restaurant for dinner tonight, boys; we'll treat." Chubby and I exchange 'looks', then say together, "Deal! See ya there." The mom's have always treated Chubby and me like rock stars, even when we were very skinny ten year olds scared of our own shadow. Being on our own so much over the years eventually toughened us, Chubby more than me, but that might also have something to do with Chubby's genes. Maybe I've got a touch of the shy gene, it's funny how we're all a little different, and we don't know why... well, not funny as in ha ha, but funny as in strange and mysterious. Chubby and I walk around our condos getting familiar with them again... first mine, and then upstairs to his. "Which bedroom ya wanna sleep together in, Chubby?" At that question he blurts out a laugh, and gets me in a headlock. "You are too fuckin' much, bro!" He gives my head a nooky with his fist, then let's go of me, laughing at my assumption we're sleeping together. I fluff my burr haircut back a few times to keep it standing up off my head, and ask, "Well, which one? Yours or mine?" He acts exasperated, then says, "Mine, okay... at least it's a double bed." I frown, mumbling, 'We never use mine," and Chubby yells, "It's a twin bed!" and I go, "So what?" and he throws his hands up, and says, "Okay, we'll sleep in your bed." I mumble, "Whatever," but feel victorious. I know I'm taking advantage of Chubby's good nature, but I also know that Chubby only let's himself be taken advantage of to the extent of his choosing. So, in other words, he's picking his battles and the bed selection is low on his concern list. To me, sleeping together is a fun thing to do. I wasn't at all sure it'd work out though, so I tried the tactic of assuming we're sleeping together, then I made the issue which bed we'll use and it turns out I won both ways... I'm on a roll. Oh my god, I love that boy!
After lunch at Chubby's condo we hustle down the steps to the car and head for Parker's Park with me driving. The park is where we used to run two mile out and two miles back almost everyday, weather permitting, and we did it for three years; then we got the jobs I mentioned earlier and our world changed. I met my first truly dominant sex partner in this park one afternoon when I was running alone. At the time Chubby was getting more and more involved with the window washing boys. Tom Del-something, was the dominant guy's name in the park; a Marine, and he dominated me from the first minute I met him. My balls never stopped moving and tingling and buzzing while he was doing it too. He sorta hypnotized me into a trance-like state of mind... it was a learning experience for me: learning about myself. Today Chubby and I can't jog the trail because the snow hasn't melted completely off it yet, it's sloppy and slippery; we walk it at a fast clip and get winded before reaching the halfway point, which is the rest area. Chubby's doing deep breathing as we approach the cutoff, exclaiming, "Jesus H Christ, Dylan... we're so out of shape!" I'm huffing and puffing too, and need to catch my breath before saying, "Speak for yourself; this is a cakewalk for me." We slow up to normal walking speed as we're making the turn to the rest area, then around the huge tree at the top of the trail and there it is: there's the very tree I was peeing on when the Marine first approached me, and over there is where he blew me for the first time, and further up near the lavatory is where he had his hand down my pants arrogantly telling me to have my pubes shaved before the next time we're together... and I did too. My shoulders shake on their own as I take all this familiar scene in. Chubby of course knows none of it, I've never told him. So, yeah, I have secrets from Chubby, but not many; wonder how many he's keeping from me, and is it a good or bad thing to keep some secrets secret?
On the ride back we decide to cruise the old neighborhood and see who we run into. I'm driving again thinking about Chubby's attitude today, and how it's been awesome and how it usually is awesome. So, feeling daring, I go, "Um, Chubby... was it so terrible for you this morning when I, you know... attacked you in bed and spunked on you. Was it disgusting for you? Just wondering..." Glancing over at me, I fidget in the driver's seat a little bit, worried I may have taken it too far with that question, but Chubby has a compassionate gaze to his eyes, shaking his head 'no' ever so slightly as he touches my arm, quietly saying, "Nothing about you is terrible or disgusting to me, Dylan. In fact, you got me all fired-up this morning. I guess that's because I knew how sexually excited you were getting, and I love you to death, so the whole thing somehow got me aroused too; so, no... there wasn't anything terrible or disgusting about it, bro." I go, "Really?" and Chubby's like, "Yeah, really!
Don't beat yourself up; hell, remember we've done gay stuff before. Before you even knew you were gay, as a matter of fact. Right?" I'm nodding my head because, of course I remember it, and I also remember the lengths Chubby would go rationalizing our behavior into being perfectly normal under our special circumstances. And, it's behavior that he initiated in the first place; it was Chubby who started it, I came late to the party. I know all that, but I also know that all of us, Chubby especially, interpret the revisionist history in our heads in ways that fits our perception of how we see things now; how we wish to see things now. I like that Chubby's currently in what seems to be a peaceful frame of mind, happy with himself, which is so much better than the tortured condition he found himself in with the window washer boys; particularly with what Ricky and Ricky's father did to him, so I won't remind him it was he who started our so-called gay behavior. And I'm not suggesting Chubby's responsible for me being gay either: I believe I was born this way, and I'm good with that!
Window washer days is the only period in Chubby's life where he'd gotten himself into something way over his head and it eventually had him experiencing gay behavior with Ricky that he couldn't rationalize away so easily. And, as I'm thinking that thought, the rock group Fray comes blaring from the radio with their tune, 'Over My Head'. Chubby, in his clear boyish voice, sings along with the song, unaware I'm spellbound at the coincidence of this song coming on just now:
"I never knew, I never knew
that everything was falling through
It's coming down to nothing more than apathy,
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see
Everyone knows I'm in over my head,
over my head
With ten seconds left in overtime
he's on my mind
he's on my mind"
Chills running down my back, but why? Well, obviously because this one song, of all songs, comes on at the exact moment I'm thinking about the only time Chubby got in over his head with something, but also because Chubby doesn't realize he's singing about something he lived through; hell, he wouldn't admit the words are relevant to him back then anyway, so it's only me who's enthralled by this coincidence. The song finishes as I pull into the Stop and Shop parking lot, then I back the Jeep into a parking spot. Chubby stops singing and laughs reaching over and knocking my beanie off to rub my hair, saying, "You're the only kid in the world who would go to the trouble of backing into a parking spot in an nearly empty parking lot." Looking around I realize we're way back from the grocery store in an area I used to park as an employee... old habits die hard. I pretend I'm very seriously concerned, "Am I a bad person for doing that, do ya think?" He chuckles, mumbling, "I guess not," as we get out of the Jeep. Lighting a cigarette I'm checking the position of the Jeep between the white lines, "Hell of a parking job... just saying." Inside, we walk around the Stop and Shop where I worked for two years and neither of us recognizes anyone here.
Oh well, that idea bombed. Back in the Jeep we're cruising around town where we also don't see a single kid we know, "What the fuck?" say Chubby, "Did a spaceship land and take all the kids from our high school graduating class to Jupiter?" We drive to the mall at the loop, which hasn't changed a bit although the kids hangin' out there have. The kids who used to be high school juniors when we ran things here, have now taken over and Chubby and I are like outsiders. I mutter, "Be nice to at least run into Dodger or Vinnie," Chubby's like, "Yeah, but they're hiding or on Jupiter so lets go back to the condo and chill." I say, "We can chill, but we're also going to do all our old time stuff too, right, Chub?" He smiles at me shaking his head; then, with enthusiasm, he says, "Hell yeah! We're the only survivors left in Framingham who knew the place way back when, and we need to reintroduce the 'old' ways." I go, "You're goddammed right, we're doing it all... it's our responsibility to the next generation!" He's like, "You're in charge, Dylan... I'm up for anything."
Obviously Chubby's being mostly disingenuous, but I like the sound of it just the same.
He's driving us back to our house and I'm thinking "Hot damn!" then I'm a little nervous that whatever we do won't be as relaxed and comfortable as in the old days and we'll get weird with each other. I go, "Um, should be try to score some booze first, Chubby?" He's antsy now and I can tell he's been holding back something. He goes, "Ah, forget the booze for now, and don't pitch a bitch, Dylan, but I need to drop you off for an hour or so." I ask, "Why, I'll go with ya if you got an errand to run?" He mumbles to himself, "Oh fuck, here we go..." a nervous laugh burst out of him, then, "I gotta see Mary Jo for a little while, and before you freak out, it's not anything sexual or anything like that. She's got a job for me this spring break with her old man, you know... like last summer. I can make five hundred bucks during Spring break and I need the dough. Okay, bro?" So now I know why he's been going along with me so easily, he has this hanging over his head and he doesn't want me pouting, and that's okay... it's a fair swap-off. I say, "Okay, but I'm not some little child, you could have told me this right from the start. Why'd ya want me to come home with you, anyway?" He says, "Because I want to spend time with you, and also you're the reason I gave for not spending the day with Mary Jo, which I very much did not want to do. She's not crazy about you, ya know." Fighting off another pout at the idea that Chubby mostly wanted me with him to fend off Mary Jo, I say, "No problem, bro... and hey, we don't even need to do all that shit we've been talking about. You wanna stay over there, it's fine with me. I'll watch TV and wait for Robby to come home tomorrow afternoon." Okay, so that was a pout; I tried fighting it off, but the pout won.
Chubby pulls the car over to the curb, saying, "You break my heart sometimes, Dylan... you want more than I have to give, and your happiness is so wicked important to me it hurts when I can't make you happy." I go, "Well, you go as far as you can and I'll come the rest of the way, no matter how far that is." Chubby squeezes behind my neck, muttering, "That actually sounds like some nobel thing... but, what the fuck's it mean, anyway?" I take a deep breath and say, "You'll find out," which makes him laugh in a goodnatured way, adding, "You don't know either, do ya?" I go, "Do so," and he asks, "We good, Dylan?" and I'm like, "Gold, dude... we're golden!" He mutters, "I like the sound of that too," and drops me off at the condo saying he'll call my cell or text me in an hour to update his ETA back here. It's just five in the afternoon so when he gets back we'll have plenty of time to do, whatever... maybe our old routine which Chubby sorta committed himself to doing with me. It's worth being used when I get everything I want in the end... and I am not a spoiled brat! Inside I lay on my bed anticipating our shaving ritual, especially the pubes... it feels so good after you're shaved. Then, if the past is any kind of indicator, some form of masturbation usually follows the shaving. Or, maybe I can even talk Chubby into some oral sex before he fucks me... a tad on the optimistic side perhaps, but one never knows until one tries. Yeah! That's my goal. I grab a coke from the refrigerator in the kitchen, then wander back to my room to daydream some more, thinking, "Another shower together, and then dinner at the restaurant. Hey, maybe mom or Tris can sneak us a rum and coke; they don't taste too awful. My cell phone beeps, Chubby must be done with that snob, Mary Jo, already. Good deal! Without checking my caller ID, "I flip open my cell phone, "Dude, ya done already?" and Willie quietly says, "No, um... I haven't even started yet, Dylan." He sounds nervous, or something.
to be continued....
Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com