DYLAN!
CHAPTER THIRTY
Getting off the bus, I expected to see Willie. He said he'd pick me up here, and there he is across the street, sitting in his convertible with the top down, smoking a cigarette. Oh, shit! He picked up the smoking habit from me. My bad!
What a cool-looking guy he is as he casually blew smoke rings into the humid, late afternoon air. I'd seen him do that before and wondered how he'd learn to do it. Willie didn't see me, so I watched him put the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, squinting his eye above the cigarette, and then he mussed his hair in the rearview mirror. Willie's hair was unruly now that the silly flattops had grown out.
He looked cute; his youthful appearance was fun to look at, and I had half a stiffy in my pants, knowing he was my boyfriend. I'd bet anything that most gay teen boys would love to have Willie as their boyfriend. Too bad, guys, he's mine. Pulling a Marlboro Light from my pack, I shouted at him, "Hey, stuck-up, got a light?" His head snapped around, always ready for a fight, but instead, his face lit up when he saw it was me! It's so nice to see how happy someone is to see you.
I strolled to his car, trying to be as cool as he is, then leaned on the passenger side door to quietly say, "You're the hottest looking boy sitting in a convertible with a grown-out flattop, smoking a cigarette that I've seen today." Willie grinned, leaned right over to grab the front of my T-shirt, and pulled me down to kiss me on the lips. People walking and driving by meant nothing to him. He held the kiss for maybe five seconds, with a lot of saliva and tongue. My boner was a little over six inches of hard flesh and blood by now.
Taking a deep breath, I said, "Love you," he muttered, "I know you do. C'mom, get in the car, I love you too." Almost in a trance, I got in and, flicking his cigarette butt over my head into the street; Willie did a wheelie away from the curb. God, he's fun to be with. We looked at each other, grinning and smirking, and I could tell he was as happy to see me as I was to see him. I feel so comfortable with Willie now; I'm totally relaxed around him, knowing everything's been taken care of. We occasionally have disagreements and bumps in the road, but most of my time with Willie is awesome. I was a bit dirty and sweaty after working all day, but that didn't worry me because Willie would have anticipated I'd be like this, and he'd already have figured out what to do about it, too.
We drove directly to his house and wandered, holding hands, down the brick path to the tennis and basketball courts near the pool. This was new, the hand-holding. Usually, he has his arm around my waist. Then, in a long-winded manner, he told me that he was sorry about how he acted on our last date. He described how it was so obvious to him now that I was the one he cared about. Not Charles, Larry, or anyone from that entire Prep school's gay crowd. They acted like such big deals mentoring him at prep school, but they were mostly interested in impressing themselves and each other, not Willie. He was like their abused mascot.
He said, "They treat me like shit, Dylan. I didn't have fun with them like I do with you. Sure, Larry and Carl fuck me fine, it feels great, but I liked the couple of times you fucked me much better. And I like fucking you better than anything. You're the one I want to be with, and I don't want to go to Maine, but I'll go this last time because I said I would, and they've made plans and all that, but this is definitely the last time. And I'm going with a different attitude. They won't like it one bit, but tough shit, I'm a new person thanks to you".
Everything Willie said was positive from my perspective. I loved hearing it; I have finally won the day, getting Willie to change his mind about Larry's dominant sex-buddy philosophy. Before today I thought I was losing out to that dumb-ass dominant philosophy, and I was giving in on some things, but only because it's harmless. I am okay with doing little silly things for Willie as long as the big dominant crap gets tossed out via our compromise. The biggest one to get tossed was that mind-numbing concept of training me to be submissive ... plueeeeze!
Anyway, he finally said, "Enough of me talking about me, Dylan. How about if you talk about me for a while!" Then he laughed at his self-deprecating joke, pulling me against him. We hugged and did a quick kiss before Willie asked, "Are you mad at me? You know, because of our last date."
I said, "I was a little bit angry, but like always, you won me over in the end. Being your boyfriend means a lot to me. I love it..." He blinked his eyes and bit his bottom lip, then mumbled, "Thanks, Dylan; you too."
We were at the swimming pool area, next to the basketball half-court. Willie, acting upbeat, said, "Let's shoot some hoops." I was up for that, and as we walked onto the basketball court, I thought about Willie's reaction to my comment that being his boyfriend was important to me. It reminded me that Willie can be very emotional. Little displays of affection from me can often get him choked up. I sometimes forget that he has spent his whole life kind of alone and on his own. No brothers or sisters, only casual grandparents' interaction, and no parental guidance at all. Since the first grade, he's been in boarding schools, and when on vacations from school, his globe-trotting parents are rarely at home. Willie's major influence comes from the gay students at Prep school, and he's had bad luck with that, too.
He wasn't thinking thoughts like that, though, he was dribbling and shooting the basketball. He's quite graceful on the basketball court, a pretty good ball handler and a very good shooter. That's not surprising considering his talents as a tennis player, he has excellent eye/hand coordination, and he's a good dancer, too. He plays basketball with a grin on his face, always looking at me.
We played two games of HORSE, and then Willie said, "Let's get naked, Dylan. No one comes down here." As I dropped my shorts and pulled my T-shirt over my head, I expected we'd be going in for a swim, but when we were both naked, Willie took my hand and led me to the same hammock; we had so much sexy fun in on our second date, or was it our third? After the basketball games, we were both sweaty, not just me.
Our bodies slipped against one another as Willie pulled me into him. We hugged and kissed, leaning back against the hammock. Willie's kisses are so sexy, and as we were rubbing our noses together, our tongues were out, smearing saliva on each other; my cock got so hard it felt stretched. I reached down and stroked it as Willie, catching his breath, mumbled, "Hop up on the hammock with me, Dylan," and as we awkwardly mounted the swaying hammock, Willie's long boner bounced against my belly and poked me in my side. I did a large inhale, thinking that his seven-plus inches of hard cock would soon be way up inside me. My body shuddered with anticipation as Willie positioned me on my back with my legs spread.
He murmured, "Perfect," and got between my legs on his knees, breathing in spurts. He grunted, "I love doing this more than anything in the world. Keep your legs spread, try to get your pussy up a little more for me." I pulled my legs back with a hand behind each thigh, the result was my ass pulling up off the bed of the hammock, and Willie muttered, "Oh yeah... that's good." He leaned forward and drooled a long string of clear bubbly saliva right on my asshole, hunched forward a little on his knees, lined up his boner with my hole, and humped his hard dick inside me, moaning, "Ooooooh... that feels good."
I scrunched up my face, absorbing the pain of that precum-for-lube entrance. He murmured, "Sorry," and inched forward, pushing his boner in all the way, and then stayed like that, biting his lower lip with his eyes closed, murmuring, "Mmm," and slowly, opening his eyes, he grinned at me, and did a dozen four-inch quick thrusts that had me imitating Willie by biting my lip and moaning, "Ooooooh, yeah, just. like that," breathing quick short breaths as he lengthened his thrusts, and sweating like mad, he fucked me steadily until I squealed, "I'm cuming! Ahhhh, ohhh," and cum shot up on my belly as I closed my sphincter ring and Willie unloaded his gooey sperm into my bowels, some running down both buttocks, drooling out around his cock.
He said nothing, his face very red, as he grunted with each shot of cum. My hole was slippery with it, and then he fell forward and we wrapped our arms around each other's sweaty bodies. The side of his face slid on the side of my face as our sweat combined, warm and slippery. From Willie's initial penetration to my climax was less than three minutes.
Getting comfortable, Willie and I squirmed around gently in each other's arms as the hammock swayed easily under our weight. It was such a great feeling having his cock inside me. Snuggling into Willie's embrace, it occurred to me how sorry I was for boys who can't appreciate the depth of sexual feelings being fucked well by another boy can generate inside you. It can't be described adequately, but getting fucked is surely my greatest sexual pleasure, and it's hard to imagine anything feeling better than the way Willie fucks me.
The few times I've been the one to do the fucking, I think, "Wow! This is the greatest, but that feeling only holds up until the next time a guy fucks me, and I learn all over again that that's the most intense sexual pleasure for me. My entire body tingles with my climax, my toes and fingers curl up tightly, and I shudder all over. Well, as I said, I can't articulate how wonderful it feels. I start looking forward to the next time as soon as it's over.
Hugging Willie's slim, sweaty body and feeling him kiss and lick the side of my face, I can't get enough of him, and when he begins making out with me, I feel his cock hardening and swelling inside my ass, my own cock follows his example, and I grow another boner, too. Willie fucks me so slowly and lusciously the second time around I almost get hypnotized by the rhythm of it, the sensuous feeling inside my ass and the urgency of Willie's sexual needs, and the need he has to hear me tell him how good it feels. For us two now, it's almost like a dance. "Oh my God, this feels so good, Dylan. Nothing feels as good as my cock inside your body. Mmmm, ahhh."
Then he quietly said, "On your stomach now, Dylan, and get your pussy up." I did that, and he slid his cock back up my ass, asking, "How's that feel?" I'm in ecstasy, murmuring, "Oh, god, yes, right there, Willie, faster. Ohhh, yeah, Willie, oh, Willie!" It was a methodical fucking that lasted maybe ten minutes, and when I had my second climax, it felt so fantastic I almost screamed. It was only a spurt or two of cum, but it felt like a geyser of cum. Willie continued fucking me for a few more minutes before he climaxed inside me for his second blast of the evening. His climax felt as if it were more than a spurt, and then he tied me up tightly in his arms and legs, his cock still inside me, and he gave me a hickey on the front side of my neck.
He sucked on my neck and licked the spot so long it went past the burning, itchy stage all the way to the numb stage. At one point, he whispered in my ear, "You're so perfect tonight, Dylan. It's exactly like I knew you'd be." Well, after he said that, I wasn't about to complain about how long it took him to give me that big hickey, but it sure was a beauty. I felt it with my fingertip.
Willie pulled his softened cock out of me, saying, "That's a good hickey right there, baby. Not too many guys could do a better one, but you're worth it. Then, "Oooh, my dick is so sore." I mumbled, "So is my asshole."
No one was home, so we stayed naked, and with each step we took toward his house, I felt Willie's cum drooling from my ass and slowly running down the inside of my thighs. I loved that it was his cum. We talked about us and how we were made for one another. I can't remember Willie being this relaxed and easy-going. When we met at Carl's party, Willie was sweet and shy. Then, later, in Sea Isle City, he was beginning to get aggressively dominant, following his idiot mentor's instructions. Now he's reverting back to the original Willie. The one I first knew, who I believe to be the real Willie.
Whatever. Right now, I'm enjoying this version of Willie. Sure, he still likes acting a little dominant in deciding when we have sex and in what form it takes, and he calls me baby or sweetheart, and he still calls my ass a pussy, but none of those things bother me anymore, and in fact, I kind of like it when he does those things. I've come to like them because it's all part of Willie's unique personality, not an important part at all, just a few little harmless quirks of his. And maybe it's weird, but I enjoy being in the Willie role when Robby and I are doing stuff together. With Robby, I'm the boss as much as Willie's the boss between us.
Inside the house, we got cold drinks, which we took outside so we could smoke while we drank them. Willie says, "I hate that you got me hooked on cigarettes, even though it looks cool smoking." I pretended to be shocked, "I got you hooked on something? Surely you jest! I do what you say." Willie laughed, "How can you say that with a straight face? You run the show, Dylan." I mutter, "Ha! That's a good one!"
A little later, we took a long shower together. I love Willie shampooing my hair and scrubbing my body with a rough washcloth, lots of soapy lather drooling down all over my body. Then I returned the favor, and it gave me a boner. Willie whispered in my ear, "You love all kinds of sexy activities, don't you?" I nod, and he strokes my boner, murmuring, "Turn around." As soon as I turn, the head of his cock is at my asshole thar hadn't closed up all the way yet. He's pushing firmly, and it slides in a few inches. Gasping at the pain, I go up on my toes.
He grunted, "I can only do a little Dylan; my cock is too tender to really fuck you hard." With that, he did a pretty good impression of fucking me hard. The hurt faded quickly, though, and it felt even hotter than normal because it was unexpected. Plus, we'd never done it in the shower, and that's especially surprising considering how many showers we take together. He got going pretty well, and I started pushing back with my ass trying to get his cock further up my rectum. That's how good it started feeling, sore ass or not.
I was blowing saliva sprays into the cascading shower water at how good each deep thrust of Willie's long cock felt. Sore cock or not, we both got caught up in the fuck, and he had me bent over after a while, me grabbing onto the shower door handle as Willie fucked me in a frenzy. He was groaning out as if in pain with each penetration, but he wouldn't or couldn't stop. I think I finally sprayed some drops of cum, at least it felt like I did, into the shower spray. Felt fantastic! The third fuck tonight, and it was still feeling way good.
I know Willie shot some cum up my ass because it came back out a few minutes later. He pulled out, half laughing and half moaning in pain, "Holy shit, Dylan. We need chaperones or something; I can't control myself around you." He was hurting but loving it too, "Ow, ow, ow," as water sprayed on the sore-looking, red head of his cock; it looked just like Dodger's cock that time in the half bath when Robby had called me to look at it. For some reason, Robby and Dodger thought I might have some remedy for a tender dick head. My advice to the lad was simple. I told him to stop playing with it, but I wasn't inclined to tell Willie that.
We finished our shower after that and lay together on his bed naked, drying off. Willie had his arm under my neck, holding me against him as he talked more about how he now saw the guys at Prep school differently than before this summer with me. He asked me very seriously, "Do you love me, Dylan? You're not just saying you do to make me feel good, are you?"
I thought about it briefly and said, "Yes, I really do love you, Willie. Well, let me be totally honest and say that I love you to the extent I know about love." He grinned and pulled my head over to kiss my forehead, mumbling, "You say something great and then qualify it, so it isn't as great, but I think I know what you're saying. We're two young gay kids; what do we know about anything, right? But, as far as we know, we love each other, right?"
Grinning, I nod, "Exactly!" He talked for another half hour; Willie likes to talk, and I like listening, so we are a good couple. Everything he talked about had to do with comparing what he used to think about a young gay relationship and our relationship. He said many things that assured me that Larry and the Prep school boys had lost their number one disciple. We'd bungled around a lot with our relationship this summer, but somehow, it seemed to be working out how I hoped it would. Of course, the better my relationship with Willie is, the harder my dilemma becomes because of how I feel about Robby Dickers.
Getting dressed in the expensive-looking clothes, Willie put out for me. He's looking at my work sneakers lying on the floor, muttering, "Those grass-stained Nikes won't look too good with what you've got on, so here, put these on," and he flipped me a pair of his Birkenstock Taupe Suede sandals that I'd seen him wear a few times on our dates. Sweet! I said, "Okay, but I'm only borrowing these sandals."
Shrugging, Willie got dressed in almost identical clothes. We're twins! For dinner, Willie took me, of all places, to Ken's Steak House. We both had prime ribs of beef, mashed potatoes, and the house salad, which was the same dinner Chubby and I had months ago. The big difference between Chubby's and my time here was that Willie didn't attempt to order beers, so we were saved from experiencing that embarrassment. Again, the dinner was excellent, and for dessert, I ordered coffee and white cake with white icing, which was the same thing Chub and I had.
Knowing I wouldn't see Willie until a week or two from tomorrow was disappointing. Still, I can't go to Maine even if I was invited. I work, which these guys don't need to do 'cause they're from rich families. Plus, the memory of Larry and Charles was disturbing and reinforced why I'm glad I'm not going to Maine. Carl fucks great, but I have two boyfriends now, so...
This entire date tonight had been fun, but I was surprised that we held hands at the table while waiting for dessert. I'd unconsciously taken hold of his hand when he'd help it out to me as we talked excitedly about our date in Sea Isle City during my Wildwood vacation. My face got bright red when the waitress plopped our dessert down on the table and said, "Here you go, sweeties." Then grinned, asking, "Which one of you is the girl, and which is the boy?" I tried to pull my hand away, but Willie anticipated that and held it tightly, saying, "That was insulting and no way to talk to customers, even if we were teenagers."
She muttered, "Whatever you say, teenager," and arrogantly walked off with her fat ass swaying from side to side. She couldn't care less that Willie had called her out. Her obnoxious behavior took the fun out of dessert. Willie saw me struggling to swallow a forkful of cake and said, "Let's get out of here." He left money on the check, and we left. Willie stopped at the reception desk and complained that our waitress had been rude and homophobic while serving us. He'd be complaining about it in writing to appropriate advocate groups. The lady at the desk frowned and looked around as she tried to follow what this kid, who appeared to be about fifteen, was talking about... and where his parents were. She looked back to where Willie and I had come from, but no adults were following.
Outside I burst out with a relieved laugh, and Willie was chuckling, too, saying, "That cunt! What can we do, though?" We got really going with that theme for a while; Willie said, "I hope that cunt enjoys the three-cent tip I left." and we worked that to death, too. A little later, Willie pulled into the same DQ that Chubby and I went to the night we ate at Ken's. That night with Chubby, I found myself in a fistfight with the tall dude who insulted me, so I looked suspiciously at the few tall kids I could see this evening; he wasn't one of them. There were the same milling groups of teens here this Friday night in August as there were the night Chubby and I were here in June.
I stayed in the car, and Willie got us cones that we ate as he drove the short distance to my condo. He didn't ask or hesitate tonight but instead just parked at the curb and kissed me like a lover's kiss, long and deep. Holding my head between both his hands, he got a little emotional, telling me again how I'd changed his life and how much he loved me. Then another long kiss, with the convertible top down.
Those things don't bother Willie; he doesn't think of them because he's been 'out' as gay in every respect since age twelve. Me, I'm in the fucking closet, and we're right in front of my house at twelve o'clock at night with street lights seemingly acting like high-powered spotlights. Nonetheless, I didn't pull away; it felt so good to be loved like this. When I'm with Willie, I don't care who knows I'm gay. Well, I mean, except for that waitress at Ken's, Chubby, the moms, and my neighbors on either side of our condo, plus anyone driving by that I go to high school with; and, who else?
I thought those thoughts while lying in bed. I was also wondering if it would be honorable to tell Willie about Robby and Robby about Willie, or if that would be stupid, making both guys feel bad, or what the fuck I should do?
I woke up Saturday morning ready for another day on the job. I felt rested, and my mind was at peace. Somehow, in my sleep, I'd resolved my dilemma. Willie and I have a mutual mature love together, one that developed over a few months, so it isn't a flash-in-the-pan sort of thing. We'd been on various dates interacting with many other gay and straight friends of Willie's, and we'd slept together a number of times. In our travels, we've run into several hairy situations, which we've managed to negotiate safely.
I feel fulfilled, comfortable, safe, and excited being in Willie's company, and it's him I want to get to know better and better. I think we share a rare form of young love. As for Robby and me, I'm pretty sure I love him; it's hard not to. He says he loves me all the time, too, but he began saying that before we even kissed, so we're like two thirteen or fourteen-year-old gay boys experimenting with gay sex, and that's hardly being in love. Also, we'll be going back to school, and I now know that Robby's gay; he'll be looking at other boys. Sure, he has a wicked crush on me, but how long will it be before he sees someone in high school that he gets all hot and bothered over?
At school, Robby travels in different circles than me, and we won't see each other. I won't see much of Willie either, but he and I are time-tested together, and Willie's no longer impressed by his gay prep school friends. He's committed to me, whereas Robby and I together seem scatterbrained in comparison. We sneak quick sex in my half bath or his pick-up, we make out like little kids in the locker room, and our entire relationship seems like it came out of nowhere. Willie and I are a solid couple, while Robby and I are ad hoc, spur-of-the-moment.
Robby had absolutely done a courageous, although recklessly stupid, thing by putting Joel's life in danger. He'd done it with my interest at heart, however, trying to protect me. He is a deliciously sexy, beautiful guy, but how temporary is his interest in me? When our senior year begins, no longer working together, will we go our separate ways? I'll be working at Super Stop and Shop after school, and Robby will be doing extra-curricular school activities that culminate in the spring with the high school baseball team.
I hope I'm not patting myself on the back too much by thinking that I've helped Robby's introduction to gay sex. I've never taken advantage of him, and I never would. From me, he's learning about teen gay sex in a safe environment with a harmless mentor, meaning me. I'm helping him gain confidence as well as experience. He did a huge favor for me, and I hope I've done some favors for him, too.
Lazily looking out the window on my ride to work, I thought about all this and then laughed at myself because I was giving myself a lot of credit. Damn, I sound like a dork. Sorry about that, but I'm doing the best I can. I've decided I won't tell Willie or Robby I want to change our relationship because this is a better way of handling it; letting things play out little by little for the best, whatever that turns out to be.
I sat back in my seat on the bus and enjoyed the beginnings of a boner. I usually get one on a bus. The boner made me think back to last night and Willie's long boner and how well we fit together, too, and not just when fucking, but with everything. I'm only an inch shorter than Willie, and when we're hugging, and he has his arms around my neck and my arms are around his back, and my chin fits under his jaw, nestled in against his neck, our bodies seem to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. He puts his leg in between mine, and I wrap my legs around his, and we sway some, like we're dancing to a slow romantic love song. Willie uses his leg between mine to put pressure on my cock and balls, helping me get hard.
We're coming up to my bus stop. Walking up the aisle, my boner poking out and pointing across my thigh to the left pocket of my shorts. I had my left hand in the pocket, trying to hold the boner flat as I walked, but it was still pretty obvious. I hear the chuckles from the regular guys I see daily, and as I get off the bus, two of the guys were gawking out the window at me as the bus pulled away. I grinned at them and gave them a friendly finger. Both of them returned the favor, and that made me laugh. We've never spoken, but it's as though we're friends.
I'd promised Robby I'd be here early enough that we'd have time to do a little making out in the old locker room, except he wasn't anywhere to be found, and I realized I hadn't seen the Dicker's pick-up parked in its normal spot when I came in. Guess they overslept, so I went to my locker and changed into my Dicker's Landscaping uniform. Damn! I really needed my coffee, especially this morning. Then, without really planning to do it, I felt like jumping up in the air and yelling, "YAHOOOOO!" because it was so cool being here without fear.
No fear of Joel, and no fear of Robby getting caught for maybe doing something to Joel's ride-on mower; no fear of anything. Controlling my urge to cheer for myself, I wandered back up through the locker room when Dick, one of the college guys, said, "Dylan, let's see it." I took my hat off to a chorus of boos because I hadn't gotten a haircut, and they wanted to make fun of my past too-short haircuts. The ones I'd gotten with Willie almost two months ago. Waving the hat, I'm mumbling, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, my fans."
Past the college guys, I had the temerity to scope out Joel's locker in the supervisor section. It was quiet in that section, but even so, I couldn't check inside Joel's locker because he had a combination lock on the door. I wondered if there might be anything in there that shouldn't be. It was still an unsolved mystery who had put that queer stuff in my locker at the beginning of the summer; it had to be Joel, right?
It felt so different today. I felt so free and easy without the tension of a threatening stare from Joel, or seeing him wiggling his index finger for
me to come to him, or smacking my face or the back of my head. God, I hated that so much. Sitting in front of my locker, waiting for Robby, I'm starting to wonder if I should be worried something happened: a car accident or something. Then there he was, hustling down the aisle, calling
out to me, "Sorry, Dylan, we had an accident this morning." They did have an accident. Robby says, "Yeah, but I got your coffee."
I followed him down to his locker. He was clearly agitated, muttering, "Saturday mornings at Dunkin' suck! Too many people are getting big orders of stuff for their whole families, and it's a Saturday ritual to take the little kids, too. God, what a pain in the ass." I took a sip of coffee and pretended to care about his rant. I was kind of amused that somebody besides me could get wicked frustrated within a normal slice of life. Robby pulled his Polo shirt over his head and continued with his tale of woe, "The freakin' Dunkin' parking lot is like a freeway, cars coming and going without
watching out for other cars, and I'm unfortunately the one driving us to work this morning."
The coffee is perfect with the proper amount of sugar and cream. I drink some, then, to show I care, ask, "How'd the accident happen?" He looks at me, "That's what I'm telling you. This little car had just drifted up to idle behind our pickup. I couldn't even see the fucking thing in the rearview mirror, couldn't see it even as I heard the crunch when my truck backed into it, and I felt the jolt." Taking another sip of my coffee, and with more concern in my voice this time, I say, "Nobody got hurt, I hope."
Robby stops getting dressed, gives me a strange stare, and then says, "No humans were hurt, but that little car was hurting. A scratch on the pick-up's back bumper is all we got, but they had to tow the little car out of there." I said, "Jeez, I really am sorry. That sucks." Robby takes a deep breath, steps into his work shorts, and says, "Yeah, my Mom is pissed at me. Have you ever heard of a Mini Cooper? They're like Volkswagens or something; that's what the car was. A Mini Cooper convertible."
I'd heard of them as they were becoming a more common sight on the highway. I started to say that to Robby, but he cut me off with, "There should be a law that requires those little cars to have tall antennae with balloons or something on top so people can see them. That little car was all crinkled up after being tapped by our truck." Hmm, that was an aspect of driving I hadn't spent much time thinking about, accidents.
Robby's car accident experience made me think about Willie's little sporty convertible. How safe is that? Also, Robby had deflected blame for the accident away from himself, which made me think that in our society, it's never anyone's fault, is it?
No time for making out. We hurried to get out to our work crew's pickup truck as soon as Robby had changed. Toby was driving with a new guy riding shotgun. I looked at him, and Robby explained that the stocky fellow was Joel's replacement. He's Harry Austin, a married man from the commercial lawn care side of the business. He was a fat, jovial character who was not nearly as funny as he thought he was. Harry would need to be really, really, really bad to make me wish for Joel's return!
Harry became quite annoying as the day went on, but I found myself laughing at his corny jokes anyway, mostly because he wasn't Joel. Damn it, I need to be more appreciative of Robby getting Joel out of my life. I looked up from my weed-whacking, and there was Robby with the leaf blower, concentrating on blowing grass clippings off the walkways. Again, I marveled at how special he is to look at. I got this feeling in my gut like I wanted to hug him so hard or do something special for him.
My feelings were swelling up again for him, and I wondered how I could have been so cavalier earlier this morning in dismissing Robby as just being a boyfriend on the side. That's bullshit! Robby's a great friend, and he's got a lot more going for him than I do, so I should be honored he's even interested in me. He's smarter, better looking, is a big man on campus, an excellent athlete, and an excellent student. So, why was I thinking I was a big shot this morning? A big shot doing Robbie a favor by having sex with him?
I tell myself: Get real, Dylan! Perhaps Willie has given me a big head, making me think I'm special. I know who I am, and I'm not a guy who will treat Robby badly. He looked up and caught me staring at him. Oh my God, what a smile he gave me. I stared back stupidly, and after he looked around mischievously and not spotting anyone looking at us, he blew me a kiss. My face got red, and Robby grinned at my blushing. No, I won't wind down with Robby. What the hell was I thinking? I'm in love with Robby just as much as I am with Willie, maybe more. Oh, brother! I thought I'd figured something out, but I didn't!
At noon break, Robby comes right over to stand a fraction of an inch from me to ask if we can eat lunch together. I say, "Of course! I want to eat
lunch together. He meant off by ourselves, though, which I didn't want to do. We had lunch with the group and then walked away to have a smoke. We walked silently for a minute, and then Robby said, "I need to drop Dodger off at one of his friend's houses, so I'll be alone tonight. Are you doing anything? Chubby works Saturday nights, so I was wondering, um..."
Willie's in Maine tonight, and Chubby's at the window washer boys' Saturday night meeting, so I'm alone, too. I mumble, "No, I've got nothing going on. Sure, let's get together." Robby mutters, "Awesome. What should we do?" Partially joking to see his reaction, I say, "How about a sleepover like we were twelve? I'll make hot chocolate, and we'll cook smores and make burping and farting sounds for shits and giggles!" Robby smiles, "Or, how about we fuck all night?"
I smiled big time now. "Ooh, that's a better idea. We can tell everyone we're doing a marathon computer game challenge." He nodded and asked, "What about your mom?" I explained that my mom works late at night and sleeps late in the morning. She never comes into my room, and he'll be gone before Mom is up and about in the morning. Robby's eyes shined as he murmured, "Omigod, this is so exciting!"
The day finished nicely; no bad things happened. Robby and I were laughing and upbeat in the back of the pick-up on the ride back to the
office after work. We were making fun of Harry Austin's terrible jokes and ribbing one of the younger Hispanic guys who everyone called Los Lonely Boy because he was always singing their hit song of ten years ago, "How Far Is Heaven." We were ribbing him about all the girlfriends he has, too. We were in great spirits because tonight should be monumental for Robby and me.
After a hot little make-out session in the old locker room, we planned for the Dickers to come to my place and we'd eat dinner. After that, Robby would drive Dodger to the party, and we'd start our party, Robby's and mine.
As I was leaving the building, I heard Robby telling his parents about this rocking hot video game I had and how he and I were doing an all-nighter
competition playing the game, and blab, blab, blab. Smiling, I hoped Robby hadn't learned how to lie that easily from me. Nearing the bus stop, I had that urge I'd been having more often lately to jump up and yell, "YES!!!" because things were going super in my life. I'll worry about my dilemma tomorrow or Monday at the latest.
At home, I showered and got dressed in cargo shorts and a sleeveless white T-shirt with the word "BALLS!" silk-screened in blue on the front. I did the best I could with my hair, which was getting long and raggedy. I put on the necklace and watch that Willie gave me, and my hoop earring, compliments of that Wildwood piercing salon and the Mohawk man. Damn, I looked pretty cool, even if I do say so myself. Sandals on my feet, I went outside to sit on the steps smoking, trying to blow smoke rings like Willie can do.
Robbie was right on time, tooting his horn as he parked the pick-up truck. Dodger, up the steps first, demanding, "Gimme a drag." I muttered, "You're too young." "So are you," and then he added, "You look so cool! If I didn't need to run the show at this party tonight, I'd stay here and do
you again. You know, like I did you in the pool that time. I KNOW you'd like that."
I gave him my 'Get serious!' look and muttered, "Whatever are you talking about now, little boy?" Robby came up the steps, mumbling, "Dodger, you need to be seen and not heard." Dodger ignored Robby and gave me the sexiest look while pretending to bite the fingernail on his index finger. I rolled my eyes, Dodger dropped a couple of F-bombs saying the party he was going to was no girlie sleep-over like Robby and I was doing blah, blah, blah.
Standing, I flicked my cigarette butt into the gutter, except it hit Dodger on the shoulder, and he said, "Hey!" Robby needed to call the captain of the high school baseball team because they were organizing a summer baseball camp a week before school started, and it was fast approaching. School daze was just around the corner, and we'll be seniors. WOW! It seemed like a short time ago; I was a scared little freshman.
While Robby was on the phone, Dodger and I found ourselves alone in the finished basement. He is an exact replica of Robby, except he's almost two years younger and has brown hair and brown eyes instead of blond and blue. Dodger asked, "Do you have a drink of something down here that I could have?" There was a case of bottled water on the washing machine, so I got him a bottle and twisted the cap off as he said, "Nobody knows I'm gay except you and Vinny De Marco."
Curious, I ask, "Who's Vinnie De Marco?" Dodger was very matter-of-fact, "Oh, he's my fuck buddy. Vinnie and I kind of mess around with some gay sex sometimes, like every chance we get. He's hot, not as hot as you, but pretty hot just the same." I shook my head because it's a shame we gay guys need to do all that pretending. Of course, I didn't know I was pretending until my gay coming-out experience with Carl.
Near the top of the stairs, I could hear Robby still talking on his cell phone, and then the doorbell rang. Robby had ordered a pizza, and it was here. He nodded at the money on a small table beside the door. I used some of Robby's money and some of my own to pay the pizza delivery boy, who was young, with a big winning smile that I had to smile back at. I wildly over-tip him. He did a cute thing with his eyes and said, "Thanks, dude. You rock!" and then wiggled his ass down the steps to his little double-parked pizza delivery van. I watched him until he got in and drove away. What a hottie!
I looked over and saw Robby smirk at me, still talking on the phone. He'd seen the exchange between Pizza Boy and me. Busted! I had to blurt out a laugh, shaking my head as if to deny my ogling. Dodger and I started in on the pizza, and Robbie soon finished his conversation and joined us. It was so sweet eating with the Dickers brothers as they're so hot to look at, and they're always smiling, their white teeth flashing through the chewed-up pizza, always just on the verge of laughter. We bumped into each other affectionately as we got up to get sodas or hot pepper flakes, and it all reminded me so much of Chubby's and my interactions.
There's such a connection between the four of us, and it must be more than just that we're gay because Chubby isn't gay, and Robby and Dodger don't realize that the other of them is gay. They are convinced that their brother is straight. That's so odd, it's funny. I'm not talking about that to either of them. Let them figure it out for themselves.
Whatever it was that attracted us to each other, I'm very grateful for it because life has been so good lately, and the Dickers are a big part of that. We screwed around, joking and insulting each other as we ate every drop of two large pizzas. We drank cokes and burped for laughs, acting younger than the pizza boy looked. Later, outside for a smoke, Dodger said, "Come on guys, you've gotta come to the beer party with me. You are my two favorite guys in the world, and it won't be as much fun without you there."
Robby shook his head, saying, "We don't know those guys, and you shouldn't be going to a beer party anyway! Jesus!" Dodger does a pretend pout, saying, " See that! Robby and I used to do everything together, and now you broke us up, Dylan." He was laughing when he said it, but maybe there was a touch of truth to what he said.
Robby and Dodger did everything together, just like Chubby and I used to do everything together. Hey, life has changed, and now, none of us do everything together, but it's still cool when we can be together. Robby more or less said the same thing to Dodger, and I could see the affection between them. Amazingly, they don't realize each other is gay.
I went along as Robby drove Dodger to his party. Right in front of the party house, with who knows who was watching, the brothers did their quick kiss on the lips goodbye, and when Robby pulled away from the curb, he said, "Dodger is the best little brother ever. Guys complain about their little brothers, but I got lucky with mine. I mutter, "Yeah, Dodger rocks!"
Robby mutters, "So do you, Dylan! We're going to have the hottest, best time tonight. You're the greatest friend anyone ever had and the sexiest, too!" His face was so animated, and I watched him blush at his comments. I muttered, "You're the most beautiful guy I've ever seen. I love you, too." As Robbie's face approached the sun's temperature, my eyes teared up because I get overly emotional sometimes, just like Willie does. Well, hell, not only Willie; I'd seen Chubby get that way, too, and even Robby.
Robby's right, though; we will have the hottest time tonight...
To be continued...
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